I Always Visit Farmers Markets When I Travel — Here’s Why

Every Saturday morning, I head to my local Southern California farmers market, armed with sturdy reusable bags and a flexible shopping list. I eagerly await the fragrant aroma of fresh basil, the buttery richness of the best California-grown avocados, and the surprise of various fruits as the seasons change. Of course, I would be remiss not to mention I am also fond of purchasing crisp heads of butter lettuce while bantering about college football and buying fresh stracciatella cheese and sun-dried tomatoes while conversing about life in Italian.

When I travel, I crave this same personal connection — of exploring and sampling local, seasonal produce while meeting the growers and makers themselves — and so I immediately seek out the best farmers markets to visit in the area.

As I plan my trip, I set aside a couple of hours to slowly meander the curated rows of canopy tents with their wide swath of fresh produce, homemade goods, and specialty prepared food and drinks. To me, it’s just as integral, if not more so, to explore a city’s landmarks as it is to trace the pace of local life by visiting its farmers markets.

As I chat with the proprietors, I ask for their advice on which tomatoes are most flavorful and which variety of figs they recommend at a given time. They always answer honestly, with great pride in their products. Lingering to speak with these friendly vendors, I come to realize how vital it is to forge a connection with those who are growing and making what you consume.

My sisters and I always make a beeline for the local raw honey booth — it’s such a treat to take home an edible memory of our trip, especially after having met the beekeepers themselves and learning about the best varieties and their flavor profiles. Last spring, at a farmers market in Savannah’s Forsyth Park, we wandered beneath the towering oak trees dripping with Spanish moss and found the beautiful surroundings only amplified the quality of the raw wildflower honey we got to sample.

On our mutual friend’s wedding weekend in Oklahoma City, my friend and I wanted to have a relaxing morning outdoors before the sweltering summer heat arrived, so we spent an hour at a nearby farmers market. We sampled herbed sourdough bread, cinnamon-infused honey, and a microgreen pesto from producers eager to share a taste of the fruits of their labor. I flew home with a loaf of sun-dried tomato and mozzarella sourdough bread and containers of raw honey (in my checked bag).

While visiting Austin for a summertime trip, I bagged some of the juiciest, sweetest Fredericksburg peaches, which I never would have tasted had I visited outside of stone fruit season. After sampling a whole peach, my family and I decided to buy a handful of these fruits to enjoy back in our room. From there, we weaved in and out of the rows of the farmers market, stopping by booths with items like hibiscus-infused wildflower honey, tallow-fried corn tortilla chips, and brilliantly colored flower bouquets.

When I am seeking a meaningful souvenir for a friend or a keepsake for myself from a trip, I always start at a farmers market. This is precisely how I found my luxurious tropical-scented tallow lotion candle in San Diego’s Little Italy, fruit-forward loose leaf tea blends in Nashville, and tequila-infused salt from Salt Lake City. In this way, I can better share a piece of my travels with a friend back home.

On a recent vacation to Italy, I strolled the aisles of the covered stalls in Florence’s Mercato di Sant’Ambrogio and reminisced with my twin sister about our weekly visits there while we studied abroad. We shared laughter with vendors and wandered around in renewed amazement as we shopped for the finest produce, cured meats, and cheeses, savoring this indoor/outdoor market’s familiar sense of home and unrivaled quality goods.

Walking through the stalls filled with ripe pears, grape clusters, sweet nectarines, and the final glimpses of summer tomatoes, we experienced an integral part of the city’s culture that often goes unseen by visitors.

At farmers markets across America — and the world — we can share our common humanity. Each time, I walk away with a richer understanding of the destination I am visiting and gratitude for the farmers and cultivators who make this wholesome experience possible.