Bushels of bargains
As food costs soar, shoppers flock to gritty Haymarket
At the Belmont Farmer's Market, tidy white tents shelter arugula, organic basil, and locally grown tomatoes, attracting shoppers who have become as suspicious of hard-traveled produce as they are guilt-ridden over their own carbon footprints.
It's a very different atmosphere at Haymarket in Boston, however, where shoppers are happy to snatch up inexpensive tomatoes, regardless of their origin. At roughly 175 years old, the market that bills itself as the nation's largest, year-round, open-air marketplace hangs on as improbably as an overripe avocado - not only surviving, but now even flourishing as spiraling food costs make Haymarket's bargain-basement prices ever more attractive.
"It wasn't until gas prices and everything shot up that I started to take a look," said Billy Patterson, 34, a Wrentham father who works downtown and who carried his Whole Foods bag while shopping yesterday. "I get cherries down here for $2 a pound. I was at Whole Foods: $7 a pound."
Muslim women in colorful head scarves, girls in flip-flops and tank tops, men in suits and ties, Asian women in baseball caps - they come by the hundreds on Fridays and Saturdays, jostling for space, dodging strollers and shopping carts and the occasional stepped-on apricot. They come despite the gritty conditions and spotty sanitary standards. City inspectors last week cited all but two vendors for health violations.
But with food costs skyrocketing, Haymarket's prices are hard to resist. Shoppers flock here, playing the odds on every pineapple, wondering whether it will last a week or a day.
"They have good prices, but you have to be careful," said Kelly Hanns, 23, of the Back Bay. "You may get seven apples for $1, but two or three of them might not be the best."
Crusty old Haymarket defies modern trends in favor of hard-learned customs. As in: You have no right to choose your own mango. The guy with the cigarette dangling out of his mouth will decide which one you get.
Likewise, you will receive dubious comfort about your tomato's country of origin. Ask a vendor whether his wares are safe from the recent salmonella scare and he shrugs and points to his boss, who points to a disheveled pile of empty boxes on the street. "Canada," asserts the first.
The city is supposed to inspect Haymarket stands every year but had not done so until the Globe inquired about records last week. Then city inspectors descended on the market and failed 30 of the 32 outdoor vendors - mostly for minor violations such as failing to cover food or to keep it more than 6 inches off the ground.
Six indoor vendors who sell meat, seafood, and other perishable goods - and are considered more risky - had been cited for various violations in previous inspections. They passed follow-up inspections.
Merchants who fail follow-up inspections may see their licenses suspended temporarily or be called in for administrative hearings.
City health inspectors cited Peter Renda's produce stand last week because someone was smoking while selling food. But others apparently hadn't gotten the word: A few hours later, vendors operating at least three other carts puffed away. One merchant let his cigarette dangle from his lips while he placed lemons on a display with one hand and gripped dollar bills with the other.
"Look at him," said Colman Herman, a Dorchester consumer activist who accompanied a reporter on a tour of Haymarket. "Absolutely no sense that he's doing something strange. And nobody cares. Here, it's like a part of the ambience."
Unlike the region's new farmer's markets - 26 opened in Massachusetts just this year - Haymarket features no farmers. The guys hawking watermelons buy their merchandise when it lands at the sprawling New England Produce Center in Chelsea. The vendors, once predominantly Italian, have given way to Cambodians, Egyptians, Moroccans, and Lebanese.
The vendors are famous for their impatience with customers who handle the produce or waffle in their decision-making.
"What are you doing? Put it down!" Robert Consolo bellowed at a woman who had second thoughts about her peaches. "I can't change it?" she asked. "You already changed five of them!" Consolo shouted.
A moment later, he told another woman who lingered after buying strawberries to move along. "Yeah, hurry up," he barked.
But customers can overlook a lot when a quart of strawberries costs $1, though they might see the fruit sweating in their plastic containers under the harsh morning sun.
Haymarket's Old World ways face plenty of competition these days, not only from organic farmer's markets in the suburbs but also from nearby City Hall Plaza and Copley Square, where farmer's markets have sprouted. The city is embarking on a plan to expand a market district, possibly over the new Rose Fitzgerald Kennedy Greenway, and invite in more goods. But the Haymarket vendors say they are not threatened.
"It's a different clientele," said Ottavio Gallotto, president of the Haymarket Pushcart Association. "We're looking to sell stuff 2 to 3 pounds to a dollar. They're looking to sell stuff $2 to $3 a pound."
Still, Haymarket got a little greener this spring, when the city began composting food waste and recycling cardboard boxes.
And while the city would like to clean up Haymarket, vendors bristle at the idea of it becoming like everyplace else.
"We're still trying to keep things at a reasonable price down there," Gallotto said. "You don't want everything to be Faneuil Hall and Newbury Street. The whole world can't afford to spend those prices."
Stephanie Ebbert can be reached at ebbert@globe.com. 