Thanks to my brother’s timely intervention, I no longer had to worry that the only further dining I’d enjoy in Venice would depend on my ability to wrest popcorn away from the pigeons in Piazza San Marco, so I headed to Mercati di Rialto, the open-air food market near the Rialto Bridge.
I love old, independent markets. Given the choice between spending a morning at Barcelona’s Museu Picasso or its magnificent Boqueria market, which traces its history back 800 years, I’d instantly opt for the market. Lexington Market in Baltimore, Reading Terminal Market in Philadelphia, Great Market Hall in Budapest—can’t get enough of them. I never went to the legendary Les Halles in Paris, since it was demolished before my time, but I’m nostalgic for it nonetheless. Nostalgic for an experience I never had.
This is another area where DC is lacking. We have the small Eastern Market, and the once-a-week Farmers’ Markets that pop up various places around town, but nothing comparable to the classics.
This is what we’re missing: