There are two things people generally think of when you mention Seattle (unless they’re grunge rockers): the Space Needle & Pike Place market. I’ve not been to the former, but I finally got round to the latter.
Well, I had been before—went the day after my interview in June; but, aside from being cold & wet, it was absolutely crammed with tourists. They were getting off coaches in swarms. You couldn’t move without bumping into someone. & I don’t do well in crowds.
However, a colleague who goes to the market regularly to buy vegetables recommended that I try earlier than late morning. Plus, these days, not so many coach tours.
Turns out that, when you can move around, PP is actually worth the time.
Of course, it being December, not all the smells associated with an open market.
(The ones I’ve been to in France, Germany & Italy are total sensory experiences. Walk past the fruit stalls & your money practically flies out of your wallet because you can’t resist the scent of really ripe peaches & berries & melons. Even the fish aisles entice you with the smell of absolutely fresh varieties. The food—asparagus to tuna—is all arranged in meticulous patterns. & there’s a melodious cacophony of exchanges between the vendors & customers is more connective tissue. You’re sorely tempted to touch, but of course it’s not the done thing.)
Still—a visit to a town market is about the best entertainment going. & Pike Place actually does a good job of carrying on the tradition—if you can avoid the tourons.
The vendors arrange their wares beautifully—clearly you aren’t supposed to touch & disturb the display. (One merchant even put out a sign to that effect.)
The fungi were equally artistic.
Then there was the seafood.
Now, one of the mongers clearly has a sense of humor: this monkfish was hanging out of the display. If you got up close to it, one of the staff pulled the tail end at the back of the stall & bellowed at you. (I have no idea how that works; but I wasn’t the only visitor to jump out of the way.)
I did actually make a purchase—some strange-looking broccoli:
It’s called Romanesco broccoli. At $5 per, I probably won’t be buying it again—it doesn’t taste nearly as good as broccolini.
But I will be back to the market.
BTW—I took a stroll around the downtown area before leaving. I have to say that Seattle seems to have a much higher percentage of panhandlers than I’ve encountered in other urban downtowns. But here’s a variant for the season: a derelict Santa, who intended to make some money by posing for pix with your kids.
Well, I had been before—went the day after my interview in June; but, aside from being cold & wet, it was absolutely crammed with tourists. They were getting off coaches in swarms. You couldn’t move without bumping into someone. & I don’t do well in crowds.
However, a colleague who goes to the market regularly to buy vegetables recommended that I try earlier than late morning. Plus, these days, not so many coach tours.
Turns out that, when you can move around, PP is actually worth the time.
Of course, it being December, not all the smells associated with an open market.
(The ones I’ve been to in France, Germany & Italy are total sensory experiences. Walk past the fruit stalls & your money practically flies out of your wallet because you can’t resist the scent of really ripe peaches & berries & melons. Even the fish aisles entice you with the smell of absolutely fresh varieties. The food—asparagus to tuna—is all arranged in meticulous patterns. & there’s a melodious cacophony of exchanges between the vendors & customers is more connective tissue. You’re sorely tempted to touch, but of course it’s not the done thing.)
Still—a visit to a town market is about the best entertainment going. & Pike Place actually does a good job of carrying on the tradition—if you can avoid the tourons.
The vendors arrange their wares beautifully—clearly you aren’t supposed to touch & disturb the display. (One merchant even put out a sign to that effect.)
The fungi were equally artistic.
Then there was the seafood.
Now, one of the mongers clearly has a sense of humor: this monkfish was hanging out of the display. If you got up close to it, one of the staff pulled the tail end at the back of the stall & bellowed at you. (I have no idea how that works; but I wasn’t the only visitor to jump out of the way.)
I did actually make a purchase—some strange-looking broccoli:
It’s called Romanesco broccoli. At $5 per, I probably won’t be buying it again—it doesn’t taste nearly as good as broccolini.
But I will be back to the market.
BTW—I took a stroll around the downtown area before leaving. I have to say that Seattle seems to have a much higher percentage of panhandlers than I’ve encountered in other urban downtowns. But here’s a variant for the season: a derelict Santa, who intended to make some money by posing for pix with your kids.
Frankly, I wouldn’t let anyone I cared about close enough to this guy to breathe the same air; he was definitely what my mom would have declared to be unhygienic. But I suppose it’s better than the outright cadging for coins.
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