Stores aren't open very late in Adelaide (at least traditionally). Saturday is shopping day, so I set out to see the Central Market (eat your heart out Henry E. Butt). Real produce. Real people. Wow.
Do your best Green Grocer impression: "Apples, fresh; oranges, fresh; tomatoes, fresh. Every-ting here, fresh."
"Honey, I shrank the chickens...and here they are called poussins. I think I would bread them & deep fry them in the Fry Daddy and eat them whole watching a DVD..."
They call peppers "capsicums" here. Oh, yum, how I love thee red bell pepper...
Hey Sally! Here are the magic taoist bells from your CD. They even sell this things here. I don't quite capture it in these photos, but man, this place was PACKED. Arses to elbows as it were... moms, dads, grammas, strollers (they call them something else here...). The little food cart you would push around if you lived in San Francisco and walk to the grocery store is called a "trolley" and people use them. This place is going on my regular visit list. Tres excelent.
There's also a cafe here called "Zedz." The last letter of the alphabet (z) is not "zee," it's "zed" and he's not dead in Adelaide, he's been drinking tooo much capuccino. It's ubiquitous and reeally goood. Keep your eyes open for this letter, Sally!
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