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It was back in 1994 when I first stumbled upon the Portland Farmer’s Market one Saturday morning in the parking lot of the Alber’s Mill Office Building.  Back then, the Farmer’s Market was made up of a very passionate and delightfully disorganized small group of local growers who brought their garden products into the city each week. 

David, who is the cook in our family, was thrilled to find fresh, flavorful and locally grown produce.  He insisted that we arrive early in the morning each week so that he could scout the produce for sale before the opening bell.

When the Market Master rang the sheep’s bell, he would rush to buy his favorite picks before they were sold out.  I loved watching the chaos of the market opening.  Generally from a safe distance and while eating a freshly baked pastry from the market.  My reward for getting up so early on a Saturday would be the marvelous dinner that David would prepare.   Each weekend was a culinary adventure of seasonal produce.  I must confess that B.D. (before David) my idea of a great meal came from the frozen food section of Fred Meyer. 

One momentous morning while David was filling his basket with vegetables, I noticed something new among the market booths.  Displayed next to the fresh basil in the booth of David’s favorite mushroom forager were flowers.  Beautiful garden flowers and fresh herbs made up into lovely tussie mussie bouquets.  “How much are these bouquets?” I asked the farmer.  “Oh, those flowers?” he replied.  “I don’t know.” He scratched his head.  “My wife made those and told me that I had to bring them.   You want to buy them?” he questioned.  

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