Road trips and letting the pasta drive

We took a road trip to St. Louis last weekend. This was supposed to be a nice, chatty post about the wonderful, underrated city where I grew up and some of its unexpected delights. But things are suddenly hectic at Blue Kitchen. So today I’m just going to focus on its farmers market and one of the delights we discovered there.

Soulard Farmers Market is one of the oldest farmers markets in America and the oldest west of the Mississippi River. It’s been in continuous operation since 1838.

It’s also one of the most colorful farmers markets around. That, as much as the cheap produce to be had, made it part of more Saturdays than not when we lived there and a required stop anytime we visit now. Not manufactured colorfulness like mimes and face painters, either—I’m talking white-haired old ladies sucking down cold cans of Busch beer while doing their weekly shopping at 10 in the morning.

Besides local produce and not so local stuff [I'm assuming the bananas and kiwis I saw weren't locally grown], you’ll find plants and cut flowers for sale; baked goods [both artisanal and otherwise]; an excellent spice shop; fresh meat; live rabbits, ducks and chickens waiting to become fresh meat; and a pet shop where live animals await a decidedly happier fate. We were happy to learn this visit that the pet shop serves as a kind of no-kill shelter. The kittens and puppies they sell aren’t from pet factories or puppy mills—they take in unwanted litters from people in the neighborhood. And they seem to do a land office business.

There are also purveyors of T-shirts; incense; sunglasses; “art” on mirrors, velvet and other, um, interesting surfaces; tiny doughnuts pumped out and fried by an ingenious little machine that not only cooks and flips them before your eyes, but also lures a steady stream of customers—and last Saturday, at least, a genius of a salesman/showman on par with Ron Popeil and Ed McMahon—Ken Baker. His demonstration of the Super-Shammy, his own invention, bordered on performance art. We bought some. If he had a website, I’d even provide a link here. But he only does business through a P.O. box in Fort Smith, Arkansas, and on QVC and the Home Shopping Network.

A non-Wednesday bonus post: Art and food

My friend Carolyn in St. Louis [she would correct me and say, "Eureka!"] found this great story on the NPR website about two grocery store chains hiring artists. It was so good, I had to share it.

Marshall McLuhan once said, “Ads are the cave art of the twentieth century.” Some people probably thought he was calling advertising people [of which I'm one] Neanderthals. But I understood his point. Those wonderful cave paintings, mostly of herds of running animals, weren’t the prehistoric equivalent of sofa-sized paintings to decorate the home. They served a very practical purpose: To ensure the success of the hunt. The otherwise well-preserved paintings are pockmarked, probably by attacks with spears and other weapons as part of some kind of good luck ritual. And the artists stenciled handprints onto the animals’ necks and other control points, probably intended to give them control over their prey.

I frequently shop at Trader Joe’s and, on occasion, at Whole Foods. I’ve always noticed the fun and often funny hand-drawn signage in the stores—kind of cave art for the twenty-first century, designed to ensure the enjoyment of our hunt. And I’ve wondered about its creation. I’m delighted to learn that these two smart chains find it worth their while to hire artists for each store.

The photo is by the artist, Katie Lanciano, and is from NPR’s site. I trust neither will mind me using it to publicize their story.