Farmers' market like no other

Of course California's farmers' markets are fabulous, even in March, when you wouldn't think much is growing. Last week, I went to a very large market in San Rafael, just over the Golden Gate Bridge, and after an amazingly thin and crisp slice of pizza cooked in a wood-fueled beehive oven -- the vendor brought it to the market hitched to his pick-up -- we bought every vegetable in sight and simmered them later in soup.

We found a stand of Afghanis selling stuffed flat breads with yogurt-garlic sauce, another very spicy tomato sauce, an eggplant spread, and other toppings. They gave samples, we swooned, and bought everything they sold.

If you happen to stop at the San Rafael market one Sunday morning and meet those vendors, try their breads and sauces with soft-cooked eggs. That became our breakfast every morning in the bungalow where we were staying in San Francisco.

Add a mandarin (we know them as clementines and ours come from Spain, not nearly as juicy as these little Cal babies), yogurt from Jersey cows, and you, too, can climb the hills for hours each day with energy to spare.