It being the Sunday after Thanksgiving, we did not need a lot of food, and the farmers did not expect a lot of customers. (The Hollywood Christmas Parade doesn't help – it goes along Hollywood Blvd. at 5 p.m. but roads are blocked off at 11 a.m., making getting to the Market difficult. Fortunately we were in and out before 8:15 a.m., so we had no troubles.)
After doing our shopping, we always stop at the newsstand on Cahuenga near Hollywood Blvd. to buy the Sunday New York Times. Over the years, the cashiers have entertained us with stories of overnight police activity and crazy party-ers. We often navigate people leaving clubs (scantily-dressed, blinking in the morning light, waiting for their ubers) as we make our way to the market wearing flannel and carrying cloth shopping bags. This morning, as I stood in line waiting to pay for the paper, the young hipster in front of me grabbed it and insisted on paying for it. I resisted, but the cashier indicated he just wanted to end the transaction with this addled party-er who couldn't say which cigarettes he wanted because he was so busy talking (talking!) on his phone. So I thanked the nice young man, took my paper, and went on my way. He wished me a good night. I wished him one too.
Just another Sunday morning in Hollywood.
Here's what we bought at the market:
1 red butter lettuce; 4 bunches of scallions; 1 bunch cilantro; 1 bunch radishes; 1 celeriac; 1/4 lb each of cremini, shiitake and oyster mushrooms; 5 cameo apples; 2 anjou pears; 2 bartlett pears; 1 dozen eggs; green beans; 1 bunch red russian kale; 13 oranges; 1 bunch parsnips.
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