Being in event planning and production, I'm used to working in non-traditional surroundings (Holding a microphone while sitting at Joan Rivers' feet as she's being interviewed? Stumbling over road cases at the Avalon Hollywood while setting up the Jonas Brothers' green room? Pacing the corridors of MoMA, waiting for Secret Service to finish their sweep before we can get back to setting up our party? Check, check, and check). But stepping behind bins of okra and onions in the Port Authority Bus Terminal on a recent Thursday wasn't just another day on the job.
Great Performances' Katchkie Farm is one of the founding participants in the new Greenmarket at the Port Authority Bus Terminal. We're there every Thursday with a bounty of organic produce, artisanal products, and prepared foods, bringing a little taste of upstate to the Big Apple.
As I knotted my apron (no farm stand is complete without aproned staff), I surveyed our offerings: the deep green of the kale, the tomatillos and their playful husks, the rustic twists of the carrots. And the tomatoes! Our table was brightened by basket upon basket of sunny yellow tomatoes. The cut samples of sumptuous red tomatoes tantalized with their juiciness. And no one could walk past without stopping to gawk at our heirlooms - hulking, lumpy, corpulent, the gastronomic epitome of jolie-laide that this was all thoughtfully cultivated and harvested by our indefatigable Farmer Bob, I couldn't wait to help customers make their selections.
Our table buzzed with activity, from regulars making their purchases with experienced efficiency to people discovering us for the first time, tracing their fingers along the bins as they thoughtfully contemplated each item. Residents welcomed us to the neighborhood, commuters made plans on what to pick up the following week. People were excited about our produce, where it came from, and how it tasted. No one left our table without something, even if it was just a smile. The afternoon went by in a vibrant blur:
"Two bunches of turnips, half a pound of okra, 2 heads of garlic, a bunch of greens, 2 peppers, one bunch of leeks. Oh, and a jar of Thunder Pickles!"
"The beet chips are all gone?!? Again?!?"
"Now I can't wait to make dinner."
Once we packed up the farm stand, I found myself invigorated with a grounded sense of place. The recent media chatter about locavorism, farm to table, and sustainable eating has become overwhelming noise, but my brief time at our farm stand attenuated all the babble. The extreme gimmicks and doomsday predictions fell away as we invited people to join us in celebrating food grown with care and respect. I love that the essence of my job is to create enriching and joyful experiences. That Thursday reminded me that at the heart of those experiences is the simple act of one person connecting with another (and if it's over an heirloom tomato, all the better!)
