One night in July, my friend Gabri started waxing poetic about summer fruit.  It’s sweetness, color, all of it.  I chimed in, even though he hadn’t directed the conversation towards me:  “I know, isn’t it great?  My favorite thing is walking into Gelson’s and–”  He finished my sentence.  The gist of which is that we both go into our own Gelson’s (we live in different parts of town) produce section, ask what the freshest fruit is, and the guy there will grab an amazing fuzzy peach, slice it just so, and offer you more than a fair sample to taste.  Oh, my God, some of us will gather around, sampling our quarter-to-half peach, then grab a paper bag to stock up.  Is that why we love this neighborhood market so much?  Or is it because it harkens back to a simpler, smaller, safer, slower, time?  Probably.

I love old-fashioned, small markets.  I was about to leave for my two-week holiday in August to a small town in Quebec when my friend Lynne asked me if there’s a small market there.  I thought I was the only one obsessed with them.  I love to photograph small markets or drive by slowly just to take them in.

I miss the one I grew up a block from in Beverly Hills – Haig’s Market — at the corner of Bedford & Olympic.  Owned by Eddie and Bea.  Each day after school I would stop there, right after dropping my books off at home.  Ha, drop off my books!  I barely went to school. I went to Haig’s market much more.  (Later on, when I moved out of my mother’s house — the second I turned 18 — Bea and Eddie kept a signed headshot of me on their wall of fame, with other locals like Michael Lembeck.)  During that period of time I had an addiction to their fresh Kaiser rolls.  I would bring one home every single day and glob butter onto it.  I’m not even sure why it was so compelling since Kaiser rolls are rather dry, but it was my of-the-moment-heroin. (more…)