Friends of mine outside of New Zealand are often incredulous about many of the facts of NZ life. Stubbies-and-jandals, $18 organic chickens, small children allowed to go 20 paces away from their parents without supervision.  The most denial-inducing of them all is when I tell them that, if NZ was a country, it would be a morning person, and Wellington is a morning city. But it is true. If you are out at 9 AM on a Sunday morning with reasonable weather, you are challenged to select from the many open venues while dodging hordes of joggers and the masses of shoppers  trotting to Wellington’s farmer’s markets.

The Victoria Street farmer’s market takes the palm for bohemian edginess, with its right-out-of-the-packhouse veggie crates and its proximity to Aro Valley. Nobody goes there without their green eco-bag clenched firmly in hand. But this weekend I was charmed by the City Market.

To show you why, the Gusty Gourmet has a detailed foodie post with plenty of pictures. But wait, there’s more. For all the locavore gourmet artisanal hoo-hah, about half of the food is grocery-store priced (though it’s hit the media this weekend that grocery store prices are often high). At City Market, $5 gets you a lot of fresh shiny olives, or two French Bakery baguettes, or a sushi-special box, or an artisanal meat pie. Martin Bosley was at his table this past Sunday, and he was very sweet when I foodie-fangirled him.

After my market visit, I realized that the winter coat I had on was paved in cat hair, and had been the entire time I went through the market, being treated graciously by the stall holders.

Kudos to them all for not treating me like an insane cat lady, and to the Chaffers Wharf space owners for being willing to try different things with their expensive piece of real estate until something stuck. The food bazaar energy that was in the old Wakefield Markets is still floating around and wants to be somewhere. City Market is one manifestation.

Tags:   downtown · foodNo Comments