<p style="text-align: center;"><img class="aligncenter" style="border: 0pt none;" src="http://images.instagram.com/media/2011/07/18/b8a2bdc5773d444ea6ad44361053a323_7.jpg" alt="mixed colour carrots" width="450" height="450" /></p>

<p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">image by craven maven using <a href="http://instagr.am/p/H9CBE/">instagram</a></span></p>

One nice thing about being back home from a trip is settling back into routines that one finds dear. I truly believe that everyone should spend their Sunday mornings at the Farmer's Market. There is something incredibly cathartic about getting your hands on fruits, veggies and herbs that have not too long been pulled out of the ground or plucked from the boughs of trees within a close radius of where you lay your head. 

Having a completely empty fridge I soon found that my arms were teeming with leafy greens, golden beets, the friendliest looking yukon gold potatoes i've ever seen and heirloom tomatoes. The aroma that emanates from the market stands is phenomenal - and a sad reminder of how lacklustre, odourless and insipid many