Sunday was very fruitful. I had plans with Andrew to hit up two westside farmers’ markets to compare their offerings–a showdown of west LA breakfast foods, flowers, juices, and other shit.

Also Andrew heard a rumor there’s a man on the Promenade who will make a bust of you, so naturally we were also planning on doing that.

First we hit up the MarVista Farmers’ Market off of Venice. Good thing we found it despite this misleading sign:

Andrew knew all the vendors cause I’m pretty sure they’re used to him stealing all the cheese sandwiches and housing all the pastries. This gem of a man overheard Andrew praising the muffins and hollered out, “You know ’bout my muffin!”

Andrew? Is this true? Do you know about this man’s muffin?? Do tell.

We started trolling the market for breakfast.

First stop, fresh squeezed OJ.

We bumped into a couple of Andrew’s friends and I bullied them into letting me photograph their veggie and beef/olive empanadas from this place:

We found a vegan vendor who sold things like mac ‘n’ cheese and lasagna but I was more in the mood for a breakfast burrito or something to that effect. Andrew didn’t shy away from sampling the food that was out, much like the food didn’t shy away from not moving itself out of the cup that housed it. Get in the hole, food! Are you too good for your hole?!

Then, while Andrew was stealing samples, I wandered over to these Oaxacans to get some horchata. They had a bunch of other mystical agua frescas that I probably should have tried in the interest of diversity.

Around this time I overheard a mom say to her son, “you need to open up your mouth and put some respect in it.” I don’t know if that’s the new, “I’m gonna wash your mouth out with soap,” but someone needs to tell mommy she sounds like Lil’ Kim.

Next Andrew got some french toast that confusingly looked more like French pancake, but whatevs…

In the interest of fairness in reporting, they only charged him $5 since apparently this was smaller than their normal French toast.

At this point I had some oj, some horchata and a bite of vegan salad in my tummy and I was trying not to act mad about how hungry I was in front of Andrew who is conveniently not vegan and can sample cheese long into the night. Ew.

On to the Santa Monica Farmer’s Market. You know, the one that’s on Saturdays.

whoops.

So….no showdown this time. Instead we headed to Huckleberry to grab some lunch.

I’ll tell you all about it tomorrow since I’m pretty sure this post combined with the cucumber pic below is enough stimulation for one day.