If nothing else, plan your trip to SLO to include Thursday evening. The Thursday Farmers Market experience is an integral part of SLO life and not to be missed. This gala weekly festivity began in 1983 for a combination of reasons, including an effort to discourage cruising Higuera and downtown merchants’ worries about competition from a newly opened shopping mall. What developed was beyond mosts’ wildest expectations – and goes way beyond the selling of produce. Blocked off to traffic by 5pm, Higuera Street undergoes its weekly transformation. Veggies, berries, blooms, and more are sold by local farmers and gardeners at booths bursting with color. Produce looks as if it was picked just minutes ago, and almost as quickly, is bought up by eager customers. Mounds of large artichokes, boxes of bright red tomatoes, artistically arranged piles of spinach, lettuce, brassicas, and beets make me wistful for the days we had two refrigerators.
Smoke wafts down Higuera Street. But no fire engine sirens wail, and no buildings are burning. It’s from many massive pit barbecues along the length of Higuera, stoking up their fires to tantalize us with carnivorous fare. Though difficult, refrain from scarfing down the first delectable rib or kabob you see. There’s a wide selection, and you’ll burn off a few more calories walking Higuera debating and deciding. For our appetizer, Bob and I shared a giant turkey leg from SLO Brewing Company’s barbecue pit. We felt like Neanderthals gingerly tearing steaming meat off bone, trying not to burn our fingers. Curbside dining (literally – there are no tables or chairs) was challenging but delicious. We were glad we knew the location of the nearest semi-public restroom (downstairs at Cisco’s) to wash grease and barbecue grime off our hands and faces. Alternatively, a pocketful of wet wipes would’ve been helpful. McLintocks Saloon’s army of oak pit barbecuers puts on the best show. They grill cuts with precision, efficiently, and lots of hollering and fun. McLintock’s was our choice for dinner.
Music and dancing on the streets enlivens the atmosphere more. At least three scheduled performances highlight bigger intersections, but impromptu musicians and performers set up anywhere, with small or larger crowds gathering. My favorite, an indigenous Andean band, wasn’t there this time; in their stead was a troupe of belly dancers. A solo keyboardist and singing guitar player and drummers rounded out scheduled entertainment. A purple-shirted modern-dance troupe, Variable Velocity, danced and mimed among the crowds.
Beyond edibles, booths of all persuasions line the street, from $5 massages, face-painting, and political parties to handcrafted items, you have an interesting array of items, services, and ideas to peruse and consider. For people-watchers, it’s loads of fun observing how they handle ingesting their messy barbecued meats. The old "Wrath of God" guy with (badly) dyed black hair and sign warning sinners of impending doom is always there. A well-fed homeless guy advertises his homelessness and asks for help sandwiched between a sign. A word to dog-lovers: no canines allowed.