Eight pounds for a single heirloom tomato has, somehow, become a normal Saturday transaction

I went to my local farmers market this weekend intending to buy vegetables for the week. I came home with a single heirloom tomato, a small crisis of confidence, and eight pounds less in my account, which feels, on reflection, like a poor exchange rate.

A Market of Contradictions

The stallholder described the tomato, genuinely, as having “notes of stone fruit,” which is a lot of pressure to put on a tomato before nine in the morning. I ate it later that day. It tasted, overwhelmingly, of tomato. A very nice tomato, admittedly, but I remain unconvinced of the stone fruit situation.

Elsewhere at the market, a man was selling individual sourdough rolls for the price of a small pizza, and a woman was doing brisk business in what she called “artisanal ice,” which, as far as I could tell, was simply ice, cubed slightly more thoughtfully than usual.

Why I Keep Going Back

Despite the prices, and my own repeated vows to simply go to the supermarket like a sensible adult, I keep returning, mostly for the specific pleasure of eavesdropping on North London’s finest overhearing themselves discuss courgette provenance at volume.

The London Prat has covered similarly eyebrow-raising farmers market pricing across North London in recent months.

Londonist ran a lovely piece on the city’s best markets, several of which I now approach with considerably more financial caution.

Next week: whether it is possible to leave with change from a twenty. I remain, cautiously, optimistic.

More from me: Lowri Griffiths, prat.uk. Further reading: MyLondon.

SOURCE: https://bohiney.com