Market Day in St. Pete

 

Saturday, February 18, 2012 – Market Day in St. Petersburg

St. Pete prides itself on its year-round sunshine.  Shortly before 7 this morning, I glimpsed some light peeking around the shade at the eastern window.  Optimistically, I pushed the shade aside and was surprised to see the sky still gray.  I shouldn’t complain, though.  All those lovely palm and banyan trees and tropical flowers need some water.  Otherwise, it would look like a desert here. 

Today is Saturday, and that means the Saturday Market, a major St. Petersburg event held weekly from October through April.  All the locals have raved about it, and we’re going, no matter what the weather is.  The top floors of the high-rise condos were still shrouded in morning mist, but the sun was struggling mightily to break through the clouds when we made our way down First Street shortly before 10 a.m.  We followed the crowds two short blocks to the parking lot of the Al Lang Stadium, pausing briefly to allow a swarm of bicyclists in official-looking jerseys and helmets to swing around the corner.   

 We could actually hear and smell the marketplace before we set foot on the grounds of the parking lot.  The market had been underway for about an hour and it was already jammed.  Elliott was pushing Winnie (his walker), and we had to weave our way past giant dogs on leashes, babies in strollers, and pedestrians of every description.  There appeared to be several members of the yachting community present (judging from their tee-shirts).  In fact, one of the hotel guests mentioned that there’s some kind of regatta this weekend.  I guess that explains all the beer we’ve been seeing.  

There was the usual assortment of produce, food, and crafts, plus live entertainment.  Some of the more unusual offerings included eucalyptus oil (for pain relief), pickles, pet treats, and beautiful cedar furniture.  You could get a massage right there in the market, for a dollar per minute.  I almost bought a colorful patchwork and appliquéd shirt from Nepal – or was it Tibet?  It was really hard to walk past Pappardelle’s forty varieties of pasta without getting a couple of pounds to bring home.  It seemed like everything imaginable was available in the market.   Want a shot of wheat grass?  A plumeria to plant in your garden?  You’ve come to the right place!  Much to Elliott’s relief, I didn’t make any purchases – that is, until we got to the food vendors.  This section of the marketplace was a mouthwatering mélange of aromas.  Whatever your culinary desire, you’d be able to satisfy it here:  from knishes to crepes to Cuban sandwiches.  Taste of Ethiopia rubbed shoulders with the Belgian Waffle stand and Curry in a Hurry.  I tried a tasty sample of African Groundnut Stew at Spice Routes, and looked longingly at the South American arepas.  In fact, the sheer number of choices created a dilemma.  There was no way I could possibly eat everything I wanted to try.  After making a thorough tour of the area, I worked my way back to Empanada World.  It wasn’t just an ordinary empanada I bought.  This one was stuffed with spinach, artichokes, and hearts of palm.  Meanwhile, Elliott got into the line at the creperie.  We were lucky enough to find a table and two empty chairs so we could sit down to enjoy our morning snack.  The empanada was delicious, and sweet Elliott shared his luscious strawberry jam filled crepe with me.  

We needed a break from the market if we were to recover our appetites, so we retreated a couple of blocks to Kahwa Coffee Roasters.  It was easy to pass an hour sipping a latte and reading my Kindle.  By then, it was past noontime, the sky was blue overhead, and I could justify going back to the market for lunch.  I gladly stood for several minutes in the sunshine while I waited for my midday Thai feast:  A tingling red curry spiced stir-fry of tofu and green beans, accompanied by grilled eggplant, brown Jasmine rice, and cucumber salad.  I’m glad, however, that I brought it back and consumed it in the comfort of our hotel room, where a box of tissues was close at hand.   

 

I took advantage of Elliott’s afternoon rest time to visit the nearby Morean Arts Center, Glass Studio, and Hot Shop.  The downtown arts center displays work of local artists in a large gallery and offers classes and workshops in various media for adults and children.  I was especially interested in seeing the adjacent Glass Studio and its Hot Shop where glass artists give demonstrations on a regular schedule.  Even the powerful fans couldn’t keep the temperature cool in the aptly named Hot Shop.  I was sweating as I sat on the bleachers and watched two glass artisans work non-stop for over half an hour to create a single blown glass vase.  Now I understand why hand-blown glass objects are so costly.  I wasn’t in the market for glass art, but it was interesting to see the pieces that were for sale.  Most were blown glass items, and many looked Chihuly-inspired.  Only a few of the pieces were fused and slumped glass similar to the two pieces I made when I took a workshop at the Workhouse Arts Center in Lorton last year. 

I tried to walk in the shade when I left the arts center since it honestly felt like summer.  On the way back, I remembered to stop by the Schakolad Chocolate Factory on Central Avenue.  From the handmade treats in their display case, I chose a dark chocolate raspberry truffle, a dark chocolate mocha truffle, a dark chocolate hazelnut truffle, a dark chocolate covered marzipan, and a dark chocolate covered Graham cracker – all as a surprise for Elliott.  Mmmmm.   I didn’t want the chocolate to melt, so I hurried back to the hotel.  

By the time we went out in search of dinner, the sun was low, the temperatures had dipped, and there was a light, cooling breeze.  With the long weekend and the regatta going on, there were plenty of people walking around and lots of cars on the streets.  I led Elliott up Central Avenue to a Greek taverna I’d noticed earlier in the day.  It was so noisy inside the restaurant that we decided to dine al fresco.  We could still hear the Greek music, but we could also carry on a conversation.  We started off with an order of taramasalata and pita.  I adore the delicate pink color and creamy, silky texture of the fish roe spread.   After that, I could barely eat half of my blackened mahi-mahi with roasted red peppers, orzo with feta, and grilled vegetables.  About halfway through our meal, the music abruptly changed.  Right away, I recognized the rhythm that accompanies belly dancing.  (I took a few belly dancing classes in my younger days.)  Sure enough, a belly dancer was swiveling her way through the packed restaurant, and several patrons had joined in.  She even brought her performance out onto the sidewalk just as we were leaving.  

On our way back to the hotel, for the first time, we noticed a real city vibe.  The tall buildings were beautifully illuminated against the night sky, and there was a certain energy in the air.  It wasn’t quite Times Square, but St. Pete was clearly in a festive mood – colorful neon lights, music and laughter spilling out of bars and restaurants, crowded sidewalks.  As far as dress goes, it ranged from ultra-casual (shorts and tee-shirts) to formal attire.  A few people actually looked like escapees from a wedding reception.  We may have trouble getting to sleep tonight with all the revelry going on outside, but it’s fun to be part of it.