I didn’t choose the basic life. The basic life chose me. Growing up in a small Northern Michigan resort town, my palette got refined at a young age. I grew to love the slow, small town life where getting buzzed on farm-fresh cider was more common than going to a club. I’m accepting of that.
So, with much power comes much responsibility, which is why I’m tackling the hard issues that were thrust in my direction without my solicitation. Without further adieu, let’s sort some shit out.
I was hoping for someone to address an issue I’m having. This Sunday I went to my first farmers market and it was a transcendent experience.
I don’t mean to get sidetracked here, I’m sure you’re busy, but I need to tell you what I bought. Fresh cider from a 300-acre farm in PA that was bottled in a 1-gallon container that didn’t even have a label on it! No label! You’ve gotta respect that attitude, this farm knew their cider game was so strong they didn’t need a label. And they were right. Did my friends and I spike the hell out of that cider with some bourbon, get a nice fire going in the fire pit and turn up for several hours when we got home? Yes. My friends and I also had falafel wraps while listening to live music, bought apples for an apple pie, fresh pasta and sauce from an artisanal pasta maker and homemade snacks for my dog! If there was a Buzzfeed article about my experience it would have been “Ten Reasons the Farmers Market is Everything this Fall.”
But there was one problem…it wasn’t brunch. All the artisanal cheeses, fruit and kombucha couldn’t distract me from the fact that somewhere there was a pitcher of mimosas I wasn’t drinking.
I spent entirely too much time yesterday trying to figure out why I couldn’t stop thinking about brunch even though I was having a great time at the farmers market. Is it because I’ve been brunch’ing for so long it’s ingrained in me that it’s what I should be doing on Sunday? Am I the only one who feels conflicted between the farmers market and brunch? Is there a way to balance the two since both only happen on Sunday?
Chanakya (noted Indian teacher, philosopher, economist, jurist and royal advisor) once said, “Before you start some work, always ask yourself three questions – Why am I doing it, What the results might be and will I be successful. Only when you think deeply and find satisfactory answers to these questions, go ahead.”
Attending a brunch is entirely different than attending a farmer’s market, but that doesn’t mean that taking one path is more advisable than the other which is why we must dissect each tradition and get to their cores by using Chanakya’s methodology.
“Why am I doing it?”
First, brunch. If you’re brunching, you probably went out the night before, are feeling especially lazy, or are just a socialite trying to be seen (What’s good, Dallas?). When you go to brunch, you go with the intention of shampooing the hair of the dog and eating a high-calorie meal that you’re too slothful to cook for yourself on a Sunday morning. You’re not trying to get out and be active. You’re trying to sit at a table, shoot the shit, and be accepted as a functioning member of society.
Conversely, if you’re hitting up a farmer’s market, you’re looking for an adventure that’s going to require further action once the day is over. Whether you’re heading to an actual farm or getting after the Union Square Greenmarket, you’re committing to a day. Yeah, you’re going to indulge on the premises. But chances are, you’re probably walking out of there with a hemp bag full of kale, rhubarb, and some grass-fed meat that’s going to go bad in your refrigerator because you ended up Postmating Sunday night when you got too sucked into Pitch Perfect 2. You’re also probably an upstart lifestyle blogger that’s thirsty for content, so you’ll be VSCO’ing the shit out of your photos come Sunday afternoon when coming off that cider buzz.
“What will the results be?”
Coming out of brunch, you’re going to be feeling the effects of the discounted mimosas. I’m talking head buzz, indigestion, and the inherent need for a mid-afternoon nap that culminates in you waking up in time for kick-off of the late NFL slate. Hell, you probably need that nap after the weekend you just had, so revel in all its glory.
If you’re casually rocking out a farmer’s market, you’re going to find yourself with some responsibilities on your hands. Whether you’re intending to make a “family” dinner for you and all your friends, we all know those vegetables aren’t going to sauté themselves, so you better have a recipe on deck or you’ll be scraping veggie sludge out of your fridge come Thursday when you’re making room for those weekend Pumpkin beers.
“Will I be successful?”
Is your intention to delay your hangover? Do you want that post-Crabcake Eggs Bennie nap? Are you trying to spend $45 on a meal that would normally cost $12 at home because you want to geotag Eater’s most popular new breakfast spot? Then get your brunch on, homie. Hold your head high and your Salty Dog even higher.
Do you have a game plan for the broccoli, nettles, watercress, and maple syrup that you just overspent on? When you’re coasting off that spiked coffee buzz, are you really going to want to mastermind a meal fit for Instagram? Or nah? I’m not doubting your abilities, but you need to ask yourself whether or not it’s worth it. You don’t want the death of fresh Japanese turnips on your conscience.
The moral of the story is simple: do whatever you’re doing intentionally. Be the champion of your own life and you’ll never question yourself, whether you’re at brunch or a farmer’s market. .
Got a question? Email firstname.lastname@example.org and I’ll attempt to either solve all of life’s problems or lead you to a life where you spend every Sunday questioning your existence.
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