Letters: Farmers market connects me with humble farmers and delicious food

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It is so easy to forget these humble farmers and others like them when I walk into a mega grocery store.

Her lips are sunburned-chapped, her face browned by the wind. And although her nails are lined with the dirt of the fields, her hair is streaked by the sun to shades of honey that any fancy hair salon would envy.Bringing their weekly harvest to the local farmers market, this woman and her husband have laid out their meager produce: a small stack of sweet corn, a basket of heirloom beans, a few jars of maple syrup and a handful of tomatoes.

For despite all their hardships — the late spring snows, the summer droughts, the short season — these local farmers toil not only to provide us with their scrumptious real food, but the fruits of their spirit as well.I have been reading with interest and dismay the opinion pieces concerning the subminimum tipped wage and the One Fair Wage campaign. I have been a server for three years in a long-standing, family-owned restaurant.

I fear that if this measure passes, it would hurt a lot of people — the people Mayor Brandon Johnson thinks he is going to help. Servers would quit their jobs from making only half as much, guests would get terrible service with the absence of incentive and employers would be forced to put a service charge on the bill to cover additional payroll expenses. Guests would not likely tip more.

 

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