One of my favorite rituals takes place on Sunday mornings in my tranquil little suburb of Menlo Park here in California.  We have a lovely once-a-week outdoor farmers' market abounding with stalls filled with fresh vegetables, fruit, and greens galore, plus specialty items: nuts and nut butters; dates; chicken, duck, and quail eggs; fresh flowers; flash-frozen grass-fed beef; fresh breads; and quiches, cakes, and cookies from an outstanding artisan baker — not to mention the bounty from our fisherman, who takes his boat out from Half Moon Bay at the end of the week and brings us fresh salmon, sole, halibut, and crab in season. There's always live music at one end of the row of vendors' stalls, whether jazz or folk or ethnic.  And as there's a large church nearby, many people come to the market after services dressed in their Sunday best, adding to the colorful and festive atmosphere of our beloved farmers' market. Until...(Read Full Article)