Over the weekend, I took a trip out east to Myakka so I could check out the Old Miakka Farmers Market—a new-ish market that I'd heard great things about and had been meaning to get to for a few months. So in spite of the 90-degree-plus temps, I jumped in my car, grabbed my beloved Kilenso flat white from Perq Coffee Bar, and enjoyed every single second of the 30-ish minute drive and my time in Myakka.
Now, don't get me wrong: I am a girl who likes living in an urban area. I enjoy the amenities that city life offers; I love living five minutes away from my office, the beach, the grocery store and Sarasota's wonderful downtown shops and restaurants. That said, there is something so incredibly mind-clearing and spirit-lifting about driving away from all of that—about making the transition from buildings and parking lots to, well, cows and farmland. Heading out to Myakka, this transition is incredibly apparent: As soon as you get past the junction for the interstate, the landscape begins to change, and before you know it you're on a two-lane road, feeling like you're hours away from city life—even if it's really only a few minutes.
So needless to say, I was in a great mood when I got to the market, which was a bit sparsely populated thanks to the heat, but which was still incredibly enjoyable. I got some organic produce, a dozen farm-fresh eggs and a lecture on how I should make sure to use the whole egg—not just the whites—because it's good for me from a lovely couple, as well as some local honey and a crunchy homemade peanut-butter-and-honey mixture that is mind-blowingly good on top of whole wheat toast from Loren at Myakka Gold. Yum. (Side note: It is apparently my goal to try every honey made in Sarasota.) There was a Mexican food vendor making icy treats and empanadas, too, that I'm looking forward to trying next time.
I also made friends with the two adorable goats you see below, as well as Mr. Darcy the Turkey, and made sure to snap some shots of the Old Miakka Methodist Church (est. 1886), where the market is held, the quaint Old Miakka Cemetery and the Old Miakka Schoolhouse. I love Old Florida.
P.S. I am not sure why Myakka the city/area is spelled that way and the market, schoolhouse and church are spelled "Miakka"—the copy editor in me is cringing!—but that's how it is; I promise I'm not just spelling things randomly.