Farmer's Markets = Community?

So James McWilliams is on the freakonomics blog this week questioning the community-building value, as well as the carbon-footprint-reduction, of farmer's markets. He explains that, for him, the market is no different from the supermarket in social interaction, but he likes the superior product he receives (interestingly, he does not go into whether the very fact of superior product makes the market a worthier shopping choice - even though that would seem obviously a factor to me). However, he buys from the farmer (or usually their rep) without chit-chat or stopping for anything so silly as community building. I'm guessing he's a New Yorker.

OK, I will admit I'm also not the greatest at getting to know all the vendors at my farmer's markets. In Berkeley, they were all teens & college students, people who basically seemed to do it because it was hip, and didn't seem all that interested in connection, nor necessarily very knowledgeable about their product (I didn't often attend the Saturday market - too huge - which is the one the foodie writers go to; maybe their experience is different. Then again, if I were giving Michael Pollan his weekly produce, I'd probably step up my game a bit). However, down here in So Cali, I have attempted to connect and occasionally been successful. There was the Lebanese bread lady in South Pas, who I talked with at length during that country's war a few years back. And the two old men who bring their citrus; they became close with a friend of mine. And in So Pas, there is a huge contingent of families that meet each week on the grassy area, parents chatting and children running amok. I think that little market really does foster a community; then again, it's in a town that is famous for being Mayberry-like, even though it's 10 mi from Downtown Los Angeles.

Actually that does make me wonder if the community atmosphere at farmer's markets is more a result of an already-present community that is built through small-town values like regular human interaction. My parents, who live in a smallish city in Iowa (it's big for Iowa, but it's still Iowa), know most of their market vendors by name, as well as a whole lot more info about them than I know about some of my closer colleagues. Then again, they know this info about the woman who serves their coffee at the local shop, too. It's part of living in a small enough community that the teen bagging your groceries probably goes to your kids' high school, or the lady who cuts your hair goes to your church. Well, their town isn't that small, but you can see how the community might have already been built before the market came to town.

So maybe McWilliams has a point: maybe city folk are trying to foster something that isn't really possible for them, because it's not already part of what they value. In larger cities it's not really possible - nor wise - to be friendly with every person you meet on the street. But we share the blame, it's not just because we might be chatting up a pedophile who's hiding in the anonymity of the city. We like the anonymity too; we like not having to talk to neighbors. It means you're not accountable to anyone. It means you can eat alone, when you want to, and eat whatever you like without being judged.

Maybe the solution isn't at the farmer's market. Maybe it's not even at the dinner table. Maybe it's in changing attitudes first. Or maybe you can change the attitudes by getting people together to buy or cook or consume food.

What do you think? Do you feel a sense of community at your farmer's market? How well do you know your vendors? Do you see your neighbors there - and take the time to interact?