So Much More than Peas and Carrots
Each Saturday from mid-June to early October, I’m filled with a genuine sense of urgency to get down to the Aspen Saturday Market. This eager feeling rivals that of the rush to make first tracks on a powder day, aka the “powder panic.” Only instead of fresh turns, the summer version is more of a “produce panic”—a determination to get the freshest produce and artisan delicacies to be savored throughout the week.
Apparently, I’m not alone, as I’ll often have to posture somewhat aggressively to get the best-looking radishes, tomatoes, and pastries before other Saturday morning shoppers swoop in like menacing magpies to grab them right out from under my nose. Just like powder snow on Ajax, the most sought-after products—peaches, corn, farm-fresh eggs, and chilies—get claimed quickly.
To me, though, Aspen’s farmers’ market is so much more than just fruits and vegetables. In the beating heart of downtown, it’s a weekly pop-up community gathering space for stimulating conversation, robust debate with aspiring (or expiring) local political candidates, a place to gossip and reconnect with friends and acquaintances. There are countless dogs and even baby farm animals (far too cute to eat), people of all shapes and sizes, locals and tourists alike. You’ll find books, clothing, art, jewelry, bicycles, and a tantalizing food court marked by plumes of grill smoke.
From blocks away, the festival-like atmosphere draws you in. The Aspen Saturday Market is a kaleidoscope of sights, smells, and sounds—the mouthwatering scent of kettle corn, acoustic guitar strums of beloved local musicians, the feeling of hot pavement underfoot, adorable bleats of baby goats, incessant conversation and laughter, interesting outfits, and vibrantly colored produce and fresh-cut flowers framed by the blue Colorado sky.
When the highly anticipated summer bursts onto the scene in Colorado, the brief growing season provides a bounty of produce for us to feast on, seemingly all at once. The peak is intense, and the FOMO (fear of missing out) is palpable. The market gives Aspen an almost European feel, as you catch glimpses of lovers arm in arm, or an elegant lady on a townie bicycle riding away with fresh produce, flowers, and a baguette sticking out of her basket. One of my favorite uniquely Aspen memories is galumphing through the farmers’ market wearing ski boots after skiing Ajax in June.
The lively, ornate displays of fruits and vegetables are an edible testament to all the hard work and care required to be a farmer. The prices, which compared to the grocery stores can seem exorbitant, are a real representation of the actual cost of food on a more human, less corporate scale. That’s one of the primary reasons I like to go and support our robust community of local farmers. The farmers are the real heroes and backbone of the market—some traveling from considerable distances around Colorado to Aspen, along with other farmers’ markets on the regional circuit.
One of my favorite things to do in the summer is start the day with an early mountain bike ride, then finish at the Saturday Market for lunch at the food court, culminating with a victory lap stroll through the vendors’ gauntlet. In true Aspen fashion, you never know whom you’re going to run into. I often find the opportunity to trade cooking ideas and gardening tips with farmers and other shoppers who like to get their hands dirty.
Just as corn snow is a harbinger of the ski season coming to an end, the corn harvest of fall, along with the smoky smell of roasting chilies, ushers in a bittersweet change of season. The days get shorter, the mornings are crisp, the nights cooler, and once again farmers start the laborious, primordial process of preparing the beds and fields for winter.
I always make a point to go to the first and last farmers’ markets of the year as culinary and social bookends to the bountiful, coveted summers in Aspen. See you at the Saturday Market!
