The Waldenbuch Farmer's Market

I wish I had a picture, but I feel like I stand out enough... I don't need these vendors thinking I'm that cooky American again! So words will have to do.

The Farmer's Market comes every Tuesday throughout the year. Rain, snow, freezing winter it's here. Right behind the boys' bus stop, up the hill from me. Just a walk. Yesterday I bought eggs, chicken and a bounty of vegetables and fruits. I would have bought more but I was an hour early and not everyone was even set up yet. The produce guy is patient while I practice my German and he likes to practice his English with me.

When I got home I noticed that the package of chicken had a sticker with the family name and location of the farm: Waldenbuch. Here. Right here. Now that's a short line from farm to table. Same thing for the eggs and the winter vegetables.

I can say one thing: the Germans have done their agriculture right. Small villages separated by rolling hills of farmland. The farms feed the villages they are next to. How simple is that? What has the industrialization of food improved upon over this model? Nothing, that's what. Except maybe the increased need for preservatives, hormones, and antibiotics, increased oversight by bloated government agencies, and an overabundance of food (and waste).

It's clear to me that part of the reason that housing is so much smaller, closer spaced, and has more floors than US housing is that it preserves the vast green space so the farmers down the road can support the houses and the families that live there.

And that was the best chicken I've ever had. And my eggs are so orange, they are the color of the sun. No grocery store egg can even compete.

Oh, and I got some kick-ass boots today. Of these, I have a picture.