New Amsterdam Market

In a little less than three weeks I will have my first garlic sale event at New Amsterdam Market. I've never been, so I've been image searching the market to get a sense for the space, tables, and overall aesthetics of the market. I think the pictures give a good sense of the atmosphere. Don't laugh, either, it is that kind of creation. Robert LaValva, the architect of the market, has insisted on designing a sense of place so that all the tables, signage, and what-have-you are identical no matter what the vendor is selling. It's as if the civic space/marketplace has become the product, not only the venue, and the local producer/vendors participate in his work. I get that and I think Hudson Clove's aesthetic sensibility fits well into his scheme as far as I can see from my Google image search.

Now I will make some low-rise pine wood crates to cradle the different varieties of garlic and shallots and maybe a two tier pine tower to display garlic bundles. Should saffron come into play, at a later market, I will need to devise a system for packaging and selling the threads. Maybe you can tell me how much saffron is enough saffron in a package? Marie, ideas?

Finally, you should know that New Amsterdam Market and it's environs are under threat of corporate development. Please read this article in Serious Eats, as it tells you all about it and why New Amsterdam Market is worth saving. The horror of the American suburb is its utter homogeneity, its total fear. Every new mall and false village filled with the same franchises dulls our collective senses. Fearful people who dream of opening new businesses but have little new ideas or the stomachs for risk -they open a franchise. Risk-taking residents try the new Potbelly sandwich instead of Subway. High end or low end, it's all the same, and I hope ingenuity can withstand the forces of homogeneity this time around.