The Last Before The First Frost. Then, There Are Grapes.
It’s Officially Over
Eating My Way Through the Saturday Farmers’ Market
Final Entry: Cherry Tomatoes and the End of the Run
Looking back on this summer’s Saturday market mornings, the bounty, discoveries, and small rituals, it feels like flipping through a photo album of better days. Early in the season, I walked the stalls with anticipation, a camera slung over my shoulder, a notebook in hand, ready for anything that might inspire a recipe or dinner idea.
I remember thinking: This will be the summer of flavor.
And it was.
These cherry tomatoes, gifted from a backyard garden just after the first frost, taste like the final page of a chapter. Sweet, firm, sun-kissed. The kind of tomato that doesn’t apologize for being small because it knows it’s unforgettable. The kind that reminds you why you got up early every Saturday to wander between stalls in the first place.
The market is closed now, taking away a part of my week that made food feel like more than just eating. Grocery stores will try to fill the gap, but they’ll fail.
Because it wasn’t just about buying ingredients; it was about discovering them, encountering something unexpected, and letting that experience shape the rest of the day. A cheese I hadn’t tried before could turn dinner into an impromptu tasting session. A basket of tiny cucumbers meant cold pickles for lunch the next day. A perfectly ripe melon? That became breakfast, lunch, and a late-night snack.
Every week was a small revelation: that good food doesn’t have to be complicated, it just has to be real. I didn’t cook fancy, but I cooked with intention, freshness, and ingredients that asked for very little, a drizzle, a toss, a bit of time, to become something memorable. The kind of meals that don’t just feed you but leave you in a better mood.
And that’s what I’ll miss most. The joy of not knowing what you’ll find, and then making something that tastes like summer itself.
But before I give in to winter’s compromises, I’m holding onto three moments from the season, Snapshots of Saturdays that made this series worth writing.
Flashback #1 - Opening Day Optimism
“This is where the summer begins.”
I wrote that after the first market with cool morning air, half-filled stalls, but already the scent of bread and basil warming the sidewalk. I bought a bag of new potatoes still speckled with dirt, a bunch of greens that wilted on the way home from pure excitement, and strawberries so fragrant they made the whole car smell like pie. I didn’t have a plan. I didn’t need one. That Saturday was about potential and trusting the food to lead the way.
Flashback #2 — The Pecan Pie and the Mid-Season Curveball
Mid-July hit like a fever dream. I was in a rhythm: tomatoes on toast, peaches sliced over ricotta, fresh herbs like confetti on everything. Then I saw the Ohio Pies table. I hadn’t planned on dessert, but their pecan pie derailed the day and earned a full entry of its own. I remember writing:
“This pie wasn’t part of the plan. But it made the plan irrelevant.”
It was a reminder that the market isn’t a grocery list. It’s an invitation. And sometimes, it invites you to change your mind.
Flashback #3 — Tomatoes on the Edge of Goodbye
Late August brought that anxious energy. The kind that hints something’s about to end. The produce was still arriving, but it had an edge: tomatoes overripe if you blinked, corn beginning to toughen, greens bolting. I wrote about the pressure to get everything while it was still good.
“Every pint of tomatoes feels like a countdown.”
That week, I bought twice as much, maybe three times, as I needed. I didn’t care. I was hoarding summer while I still could.
Now, with this last bowl of cherry tomatoes, everything feels complete. The camera is finding other subjects. The notebook has more recipes than I’ve actually cooked. But the memories are vivid. They taste like sunshine, bread, stone fruit, and long, aimless walks.
The market’s closed, but the season’s not forgotten.
See you next summer.
The Green Grape Report
Food Review by Gary Gardiner
Kroger - Maxtown and Schrock
Brand – Kroger-branded clamshell
Price – $3.99 for a three-pound package
PLU Code – NA
The Review
I bought green grapes today. Twice.
First was a $1.99 a pound bag with just a little over a pound of grapes. The weight was 11.7 grams. The average size was 37x26mm, making these the largest grapes of the year. Sugar was 21.5%, near perfect sweetness.
The second green grapes i bought were in a three-pound clamshell for $3.99 with an electronic coupon, making each pound less than $1.34. However, when I weighed the 48-ounce clamshell, it weighed 52.25 ounces, meaning there were more than the three pounds expected. I did a quick count on the possible extra green grapes, and that meant I was getting eight extra grapes for my discounted purchase, even more if the purple and black grapes were important.
The very firm and moist green grapes in the clamshell measured at 8.8 grams, were 27x25mm, and 20.5% sugar.
The black grapes were not as firm as the green grapes but just as juicy, weighing 6.6 grams, 30x20mm, and 20.5% sugar.
The purple grapes excelled at being firm and juicy, although being the smallest in the clamshell, weighing 5.4 grams and having dimensions of 23x19mm. However, their sugar content was 26.5%, the highest of any grape this season.
I’m not a fan of the black grapes. It’s probably from my nostalgic connection to green grapes, and that they aren’t as crisp as either of the other choices.
All three varieties are on sale at Kroger until Tuesday for $1.99 a pound. Go for the green first, then the purple, then the black.
The Westerville News is a reader-supported publication by Gary Gardiner, a lifelong journalist who believes hyper-local reporting is the future of news. This publication focuses exclusively on Westerville—its local news, influence on Central Ohio, and how surrounding areas shape the community.
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