Linni Eats L.A.: Hollywood Farmer's Market

LIt’s a situation college students are all too familiar with—drowning in a pool of junk food and empty coffee cups, going on your 50th consecutive hour of not leaving the dorms. It’s finals, and it’s always the same. But it doesn’t have to be. Next Sunday, before getting bogged down by books, stop by the Hollywood Farmer’s Market on Sunset and Ivar, a stimulation for all five senses.


The rainbow of Swiss chard and free smells of freshness are unavoidable, and no money is required to get the full sensory experience. They allow liberal testing of nearly all products, and will even give things away for free if you strike up a conversation with the vendors. This isn’t difficult, as they are all extremely friendly and happy to discuss their products. I asked one man what his heirloom tomatoes tasted like and he handed me a whole one, which I proceeded to eat like an apple. Bargaining is also an option—my last purchase was sugar snap peas and when I told them I only had one dollar left, they gave me a bag at half price.


If the ample samples of persimmons, tangerines and grapes do not satisfy your sweet tooth, head on over to the kettle corn stand. The vendor simply dips a folded newspaper into his giant vat of popped goodness and pours out however many warm kernels your two hands can hold. Next door, there is a table with at least a dozen open containers filled with Indian concoctions that range from mango lassi to red lentil curry, and they let you try all of them. Across from him, you’ll find the Mediterranean man, who has homemade pita in both fried and fresh-baked varieties, and countless open offerings of hummus, tabouli and baba ganouj. This area of the market also features other prepared foods, such as fresh tamales, corn on the cob, and a vegan spaghetti that was nothing to brag about.

To get a little fat in your diet, stop by one of the cheese or nut tables. One woman offered cheese curds in many varieties, but I found the plain fresh curds to be the best. California farms some of the country’s best pistachios, and one vendor offered them with different flavors—my favorite was the lemon zinger. The bakery stands featured great alternatives to your everyday white bread—one man sold gluten-free muffins and banana-chocolate brownies, while another offered yeast, wheat, and sugar-free sourdough bread.


Bluegrass bands play intermittently between tents, keeping spirits high in a sea of people literally stopping to smell the roses. I spent plenty of time at one spice booth, holding fresh thyme, lavender and lemon verbena to my nose. A woman was selling birds of paradise nearby, which she advertised to me as a great dorm flower that will last two weeks without much work. One man asked me to describe the difference between his yellow, orange and red carrots so that he would have a better idea of what to tell customers who made that inquiry—we decided the red was spicy, the yellow was bitter and the orange was sweet.


I entered the market with high hopes and a five-dollar bill in my pocket. I left with one pound of sugar snap peas, two heirloom tomatoes, one Satsuma orange, two sourdough olive rolls (one with orange peel and thyme), a sunflower, and a full brunch under my proverbial belt. Not only did I feel energized and productive, but I felt empowered knowing that those snap peas would be a guilt-free way to mindlessly munch while pounding out a 10-page research paper.