TO MARKET, TO MARKET

How Dubai’s only farmer’s market made Arva Ahmed fall in love with cast-iron cooking

There are many weekend family-friendly markets across parks and other outdoor venues in Dubai. But let’s be clear: There is only one farmer’s market in the city. A market where you cannot have your eggplants, cucumbers and whatever else bagged up directly by the farmers growing them does not qualify as a farmer’s market. Hence, the only market that makes the cut is the one that pitches its stalls (mostly) each weekend in the Bay Avenue Park in Business Bay.

And while none of the farmers are going to give me a free bunch of bright radishes for saying it, I love this market above all others.

Yael Mejia, the retired founder of Baker & Spice in Dubai, pioneered The Farmers Market on the Terrace back in 2010. Yael is a lady who breathes the fire of tough love. On the few occasions that I would stumble into her presence, she would pierce me with a look of deep disapproval through her stern spectacles and scold me about not frequenting the market. At the time, I was a combination of ignorant, indifferent and sceptical around the concept of ‘local’ and ‘organic’ produce. All I knew was

Cast-iron skillet-roasted vegetables paired with crusty bread and fresh cheese from the market is go-to lunch during the season. And it feels good

that these labels suddenly became trendy and helped a seemingly ordinary bag of potatoes command a hefty premium over the ones sold at Al Madina supermarket downstairs. I wouldn’t buy it.

Three things have changed my relationship with the market. The first was that I met some

influential thinkers that were not at the market because it was the fad of the day, but because of a deep belief in why one must buy organic and local where possible. Independent thought leaders like Laura Allais-Maré, the founder of Slow Food Dubai, and Sally Prosser, one of the city’s most credible food bloggers at mycustardpie.com, built awareness through their actions, their writing and the conversations they have had with people looking to learn about the market movement – made more real by a handful of local farms that threw their gates open for site visits, showing how they invest in growing organically rather than using chemicals for short-term gains.

The second thing that happened was life. Cancers and other fatal diseases were no longer things that were happening to ‘other people’. It has been a scary few years, and while science might still be catching up, you know you cannot be any worse off by eating food free of chemicals whenever that option is available.

I am no saint of healthy eating – my love for eating all kinds of food is painfully public. But on those few occasions that I do cook at home and have control over what is going in, I want to give my health a small, fighting chance.

The third was a Lodge cast iron skillet gifted by a friend three years ago. Shiyam may never have realised how he changed my approach to the farmer’s market. Typically, I would visit the market with a menu in mind and get frustrated because all the ingredients I needed would not be available. My mental menu would make the farmer’s market look small and limiting.

With a cast iron skillet in hand, I was suddenly exploring the possibility of ditching a planned menu and going with whatever was available. Kohlrabi, orange peppers, baby potatoes, broccoli, butternut squash and garlic could all be roughly hacked up, drizzled with oil and tossed into the skillet with some sage, parsley, or whatever herb enticed my nostrils at the market that morning. Rather than labouring over the stove, I was throwing my ‘vegetable roast’ into the oven, sometimes with Turkish sujuk if I had any lying around, and walking away to live the rest of my life. Fifteen minutes before the dish was done, I would splash in grape or apple juice to brighten up the vegetal juices in the pan.

It’s hard for me to dissect why cooking with cast iron has been so transformative, but could be that most cast-iron skillet recipes I came across stayed honest to the ingredients – which really should be your motto if you’re buying from the farmer’s market. Roasted vegetables paired with crusty bread and fresh cheese from the market is go-to lunch during the season. And it feels good afterwards.

As my cast-iron family grew and my attitude to the market changed, my interactions with the people at the market have changed too. What is meant to be a 30-minute Friday morning trip to Bay Avenue inevitably becomes a two-andhalf-hour affair of running into old friends and being introduced to their friends and, of course, chatting with the farmers. Since 2010 the number of farmers and variety of produce at the market has increased. And the prices ‘feel’ lower – either because they really are or because my appreciation of their value has grown.

But what I love most is that unlike a supermarket, fellow shoppers talk to you. I feel part of a community. Thankfully, summer is gone and the market is back. So if you’re reading this column this Friday morning, then imagine Yael – who is now retired but has left a strong legacy behind in Dubai – and her steely stare. Grab a cloth bag and go to market, the only farmer’s market that we have in Dubai.