Market of Small Miracles

The market came alive long before I arrived. I walked through clouds of herbs and laughter, filling my basket without a plan — just following color and scent.

One woman’s olives came from her brother’s grove; another’s figs were picked before dawn. Every ingredient carried a story. That night, when we cooked, it felt like we were tasting their lives — bright, human, real.

Come hungry for connection. Leave with flavor that tells a story.