Farmers Market. Farmer’s Market. Farmers’ Market.
Whatever the correct plural/possessive form is, it’s surprisingly similar to a Minnesotan (sub any other state, probably) farmers market.
The one we went to just outside of Taradale was mostly held in a big barn because it’s winter (60 degrees and sunny, but okay).
Just like any other farmers market, you have your giant vegetables,
Your weird vegetables,
And, of course, your squid ink pasta.
You have your delicious sauces and relish,
Your lamb and venison,
Your “poultry items,”
And your creamed honey.
The whole thing was wonderful and it had enough granola selling, sandal-wearing people to make this Uptowner feel right at home.