I first started going to the farmers' market when I was young and single and didn't pay much attention to my diet.

The Union Square Greenmarket was on my walk home from work, and at the end of the day there was one farmer who used to lump a bunch of his unsold produce into dollar bags. He would holler out: "Only one dollar! Dollar a bag! Buy one for your brother, your sister, your lover!"

I bought the stuff because the guy cracked me up. Plus it was cheap and convenient. I was only a few years out of college and didn't give much thought as to where my food was coming from or how it was grown. But I could taste the difference between his produce and that from the shelves at The Food Emporium.

Things changed when I tried to get pregnant and realized that maybe I could be healthier. I wasn't about to give up my peanut-butter-cup habit (still haven't!), but I started to incorporate more organic foods and locally grown foods in my diet. It took me a while, though, to really learn how to shop at the farmers' market.

I used to show up with an entire menu plan only to find that half of what I was looking for was out of season. (Although I give myself credit for being not as clueless as the man I overheard the other day--he was looking for oranges at the Union Square Greenmarket. In New York City.)

I would steer clear of the unfamiliar, like kohlrabi and ramps, and stick to the organic fruits and veggies suggested by the Dirty Dozen list.

Over time, I started to get into a new rhythm. I left my list at home and tried to be inspired by what I saw, or I would check listings of local harvests online to get an idea of what would be in season before coming up with a plan.

I also started to recognize the farmers and chat with them. They would let me know when the tomatoes would be at their sweet, juicy best so I could figure on gazpacho that week.

I started buying meat, eggs, and milk from the market--and bread and butter, too. Sometimes the eggs have been laid just that morning, and the milk comes from the cow to me in about a day. Oh, and fresh ice cream, too. Yum.

I discovered that I didn't need to shop only at the stands that advertised themselves as organic. Some farmers told me they couldn't afford certification, but they followed organic principles on their farms. Others explained to me why they might have to spray their crops, but did so as minimally as possible (apples are an example of this).

Farmers also help me figure out how to prepare unfamiliar items, such as the fact that I could prepare bright, lime-green romanesco the same way that I prepared regular broccoli. This is pretty crucial since my two-year-old son Alden is very involved in what we buy at the market, largely because he will pick something up when I'm not looking and take a bite out of it. Yikes. The farmers are very nice about it, but I feel compelled to buy it.

For some reason, Alden, who is otherwise constantly in motion, will become strangely attached to an item at the market. He once spent fifteen minutes at a stand that sold varieties of eggplants--long, skinny Japanese ones; white eggplants; electric-purple eggplants; and lovely, striated, fairy-tale eggplants.

Lately it has been hard to tear him away from the pumpkins.

Sometimes Alden will just point at something that catches his eye and say, "That. That."

Which is how we ended up making purple cauliflower soup the other day. It wouldn't have been my first choice, but it turned out to be quite pretty--and tasty too. I'll share the recipe with you in my next post--all about cold weather soups.

Image: Patty Jen Arndt