My Day in Hippie Heaven

I’ve mentioned before the less-than-hospitable attitude of the Viennese…which is really something inherent in living in a big city, but it certainly proves true more often than not.  The Viennese, on the whole, are quick to judge and quicker to let you know about it.  So, I've been shocked to my toes that I've met a native Austrian whom I consider a friend.  Not only is she a fantastically fun person who is busting my Viennese prejudice, but she has also successfully made my year; she asked her grandmother where one could find produce sourced from ‘local’ farms…and took me to a market that nearly brought me to tears of joy. 

I suppose it's important to understand that before we moved to Vienna, I was sourcing nearly all of the ingredients for our meals from local farmers…and as anyone who lives this way can tell you, fresh local food measures beyond any other physical treasure man can find. Or maybe this is just me...yeah...Anyway, I assumed before we came here that Europeans would be more forward-thinking than the big-agriculture cult that is so difficult to avoid in the US. But what I found here was a great deal of widely available organic food that is expensive, mass produced and poor in quality.  It was frustrating, but I figured it was my only option. 

Enter: the delightful tight-kept secret of the market off of the Viktor-Adler Market, as related by my friend’s grandmother. 

So it was that on one gorgeously sunny morning, two friends and I discovered this treasure.  I nearly cried as we perused the stalls of beautiful green things that had been freshly pulled from the ground. The stalls crowded the little lane and overflowed with gorgeous produce and eggs.  The sellers, shouting out across the crowd: “Spinat!! Frische Spinat!!”, letting you know without a doubt what they had for sale.  We made our rounds and I weighed down my arms with as much produce as I dared carry home.  In the end, I spent nothing but coins…I never pulled out a paper bill to pay for the produce that would’ve ended up costing at least Fifty Euros at the Naschmarkt. 

Heaven.  Absolute dirt-worshiping-hippie heaven. 

We took the kids to the playground and even peeled off our coats at one point to soak up the sun…After a long, cold, bland-tasting winter, this day stands out as an indisputable Godsend.  My body craves sunlight, fresh food and direct contact with the dirt like an addict.  Eventually the day had to end.  We had to carry that joyful burden home, the girls covered in sand and dirt, with fresh scrapes and bruises to prove the greatness of the day.   

As soon as my bags hit the kitchen counter, I sautéed an entire skillet of fresh tomatoes, mushrooms and veritable heaps of spinach...and devoured it on the spot. This, my friends, is better than all the fine wine, the ornate palaces or grand balls in the world. Hippie heaven.