You may have noticed that I love basket-bursting, banquet-spread descriptions of food.  However, while meals can be sumptuously presented, market stalls collapsing under the weight of their rampant verdure are harder to find.  So, imagine the joy of walking around this market which Louis Golding found near his hotel in Istanbul in the 1950s.  I’m only sorry for the chickens. 

Pale green leeks as large as truncheons; purple cabbages unveiling bosoms more luscious than roses; orange carrots diminishing owards their jade green tops; artichokes like green begonias; cauliflowers spuming like water amongst rocks; glowing globes of apple-sized radishes; sliced ivory pumpkins baring peach-coloured midriffs; anemones stuck coyly between baskets of courgettes resting on beds of cabbage leaves; painted eggs clustered like clumps of scarlet roe; plump chickens hanging, their heads wrapped in electric blue paper …

Source: Louis Golding, Good-bye to Ithaca (London: Hutchinson, 1955), p. 34

Photo credit: ulleo and FreePhotos at pixabay