Buford Market Review

Next time you visit Atlanta, or even more so if you happen to live anywhere close, forget the hackneyed Coca-Cola Museum, the CNN center, or any of the other heavily visited attractions in “Peachtree-Opolis.” If you have never been to Buford Highway Farmers Market, it’s time you either grab your partner, your cooking club, or the whole family, to enjoy a tour of the world, all through foods, produce, spices, and a plethora of items otherwise available only in the most alien of latitudes. 

Since finding any address with properly-apped smart phones requires no acumen anymore, it was absolutely no hassle finding the store’s location despite the sheer size of the city.  The parking lot was shopping mall-sized, so finding a convenient spot was easy despite the looming weekend. Another point in favor was an elevated sentry post in the middle of the parking lot which adds to the overall safety of the place.  In Atlanta, after all, is not unusual to get your car get broken into.  To make matters worse, this southern metropolis suffers from one of the highest motor vehicle theft rates in the nation!

The first striking element once inside Buford Market was:  the endless amounts of fresh greens in the extensive produce section. More than likely, you might have never seen or tasted most of these heads, leaves, or bundles yet.  But whether you want to make Korean ssams, steam fractal looking Romanesco, or buy long coriander for a tangy home-made soup, you are guaranteed to score at Buford’s. In short, all the exotic greens imaginable, along with their miniature and oversized relatives are available here, and kept crisp thanks to a system of cold droplet irrigation, which guarantees not only lush hues of green, but also, a real wallop once on the dish.





Peppers and more peppers

If you are into peppers, the numerous bins overflowing with amazing varieties of sweet—or very hot ones— are not only a spectacle to sniff, but also to contemplate.  If you think one pepper smells fantastic, imagine the aroma of industrial quantities all in one place. Furthermore, their different sizes, along with an intense colorful palette might give one the sensation of sudden autumn.  Large boodles of conspicuous hues resemble more a postcard than a supermarket.  These pasilla, gueros, habaneros, jalapenos, serranos, and poblano peppers—among others—could easily provide an enthralling muse for that art student jonesing to break in his new water colors.  For me, it was an unexpected bonus: a magnificent art exhibition in a highly unlikely venue.


Furthermore, one of the surprisingly fresh items available at the store was: huge green coconuts as if just twisted off the palm tree!  If you have tried Thai cooking in the past, I am sure you purchased the coconut milk in a can. Did you know, however, that by cutting the nut in half, and by straining its insides, you can get the milk from scratch? You would certainly get a better coconut taste, with no additives or preservatives.  For those of you into fitness, open a hole and poke it with a straw; suck on one of the most nutritive beverages without added sugar, or the need for aluminum! Similarly, Bread Fruit, Soursop, Guineps, and many other rare tropical goodies were featured.  Meanwhile, nostalgic flashbacks of my childhood were inevitable as I reminisced climbing the very trees which prolifically engender these same austral delights.

Heading over to the seafood section, eels, octopuses, different sized mollusks, and odd looking fish were all laid out in abundance.  Please take into account inhabitants from different islands, shorelines, and sweet water features have preference for “other” critter.  Even if you are tempted to snatch a morbidly sized lobster from a pool “crawling” with crustaceans, someone from Israel might avoid touching it with an elongated tool despite Thermidor enticements.  Another thing worth mentioning is that the seafood operation was so alive and thriving, that I must have counted, at least, 20-30 people handling, washing, and fileting the myriad of fascinating catch.  And even though Buford Market— along with its satellite stores—is probably a prominent food retail employer, judging by the colossal size of the operation, the seafood department was probably understaffed.

The national menu of the United States has been heavily influenced for quite some time by Mexican entrees in its many regional presentations. By now, just about everyone should know that a tortilla is round, and that Pico de Gallo albeit mal pronounced, provides your burrito with an unexplainable twist. Lately, other Latin American dishes are also crossing over into the mainstream.  Peruvian cuisine, for example, is making a notorious impact in places such as New York, Los Angeles, and Miami. Furthermore, adult numbing beverages such as Mojitos, Pisco Sours, and Caipirinhas have also found a niche in today’s more cosmopolitan populations.

So should you want to further your exploration of the Americas like a crazy Genoese sailor, aim for the Indies and disembark upon Buford’s Latino corridors.  In terms that you can understand, labeled neatly by country, choose amongst a deluge of beans that each country, or nation, calls its own.  Tortillas also are not all the same make and model either. Corn tortillas, dark corn tortillas, huge tortillas, flower tortillas, tortilla chips etc., are all awaiting their lucky patron. Cheeses, sour creams, and other less known dairy, once again, from most— if not all—Latin American countries are now achievable in this superb extravaganza of ethnic  Latino whims . Adding to the excitement, numerous samples of Mexican sausages, chips, and spreads, were being offered throughout the store, all of them exquisite. As an active member of the Hispanic community, let’s motion to hand Buford’s owner the keys to the entire Central American isthmus and the South American sub-continent. There is no better way of preserving our cultures and traditions than through the quintessential flavor of our foods!

On the opposite side of the market, something unusual piqued my interest. The fact I was not mutually intelligible with the labels of products anymore instilled in me some discomfiture.  After looking very carefully at the unfamiliar characters I then realized it was all in Cyrillic! A whole massive section of the building was packed with supplies and foodstuffs from Eastern Europe i.e., Russia, Armenia, Kazakhstan, Moldova, Tajikistan, Ukraine—well, you get the idea.  Miraculously, I was able to identify caviar. In addition, I suspected that the clear liquid inside many an exclusive bottle was probably vodka.  For the rest of the products, however, not only I was unable to read the labels, but it was impossible for me to determine their legitimate gastronomical purpose. The section was tended by Eastern European personnel as evidenced in their distinct parlance and brogue.

The very same thing could be said about the Asian section.  It was monstrously diverse. For Koreans, Japanese, and the Chinese are all extremely different from each other—language, and food wise. The same can be said about the Southern Asian countries. Their tastes, divergences and dialects are not necessarily something they share.  Get ready to find products in Tagalog (Philippino), an arsenal of specialty noodles, and unanticipated and unknown oriental finger food.

In addition to the Italian, Spanish, and French sections, which were all well represented, the Scandinavian section provided the expected knake brot, Lutefisk, and Liquorish. Something I did not expect to find in the desserts section was the infamous dammsugare (vacuum cleaner), a decadent vessel made from Marzipan, stuffed with left over cake, and bathed in superfluous chocolate icing.  There was much more to write home about in the oversized pastry bins. Baklava, Tiramisu, Tres Leches anyone?

Lastly, within the premises, the staff was quite international.  Many of the ladies offering the samples were Mexican.  In the seafood section, I noticed Caribbean accents in both English and Spanish. The accent of girls in the eastern European could be a sign of recent migratory status, while the dot on the forehead’s cashier told me she could be Indian or Pakistani.  It is logical to say that a great percentage of Buford’s clientele is international as well. As I traversed the multiple aisles I was able to identify Argentinians, Castilians, and customers with heavily African accented English.  Needless to say then, that a remarkable sense of oneness and internationality is there to experience all under one roof at Buford Highway Farmers Market.