This is the sixth edition of Foodthink’s story call for the ‘Eat Something Good’ column, and this time the theme is ‘wet markets’. It is somewhat surprising that in an age where everything seems to be accelerating, we still received so many shared experiences from readers regarding wet markets.
Compared to previous themes such as ‘takeaways’, ‘plastic’, and ‘digital side dishes’, the emotional tone of this edition feels more positive and expansive. Within it, we can see the meticulous and localised observations many readers have of their daily lives. Whether in big cities or small towns, at home or abroad, from the north to the south, people’s lives are intertwined with wet markets in various ways. We even heard from a reader who grew up in a wet market, sharing her perspective on these spaces.
Some believe wet markets will become the next space to experience the ’20-minute theory’, while others still view them as ‘dirty, chaotic, and dilapidated’. Old and new perspectives overlap, yet neither seems able to fully capture the entire wet market experience. Instead, the wet market dwells in some corner of the city, interwoven with the heavy burden of making a living, breathing in the very essence of life.
Wet Markets, Supermarkets, and E-commerce
How does everyone buy their groceries?
Which channel do people prefer for their grocery shopping today? There is no standard answer; it depends on the pace of different people’s lives, or even the different scenarios in one person’s daily routine, as well as the spatial and infrastructural layout of the cities themselves.@A-Ba (Female, Gen Y, Beijing)
Visiting wet markets and cooking is now my way of reclaiming order in my life, though at first, I did it simply to survive. I used to be a frugal, mouse-like international student; my family spent a lot to send me abroad, so I cooked for myself as much as possible to get by. Since returning home, I’ve kept that habit of home cooking. I usually do one big shop a week, buying meat, staples, vegetables, seasonal fruit, and restocking on spring onions, ginger, and garlic. If I suddenly fancy a particular dish, I’ll check e-commerce platforms a day before or on the day to see if they have stock. I rarely go to supermarkets; I feel that the produce in Beijing’s supermarkets is bland—the chicken doesn’t taste like chicken, and the fish doesn’t taste like fish. I’m moving house recently; everything about the new neighbourhood is great, except there’s no wet market.
◉ The Nongguangli wet market in Beijing, a regular spot for A-Ba. Photo: A-Ba@Nan Wan (Female, Gen Z, Tokyo)
I’m currently studying in Tokyo. I know there are places like Shin-Okubo and Kameido that are similar to the wholesale vegetable markets back home, where prices are cheaper than in supermarkets. However, because they are far from where I live and I pass several supermarkets and convenience stores on my way home, I usually buy my groceries there.@ray
I used to order takeaways all the time, but recently I’ve fallen in love with cooking. Yet, I’ve found that I still can’t escape ‘takeaways’ in the broader sense; fresh-food e-commerce platforms like Meituan Xiaoxiang and JD 7Fresh are so convenient, with deliveries arriving within 20 minutes of ordering. But I’m not just making excuses—wet markets are genuinely scarce in Beijing. The nearest one to my home is about a 4-kilometre walk.◉ A sorter at a 7Fresh warehouse in Beijing climbing to find stock. Behind the convenience of ‘delivery in as little as 30 minutes’ offered by fresh-food e-commerce lies the cruel reality of sorters who ‘walk 30,000 steps a day for 30 pence per item’. Photo: He Siqi@Juzi (Female, Wuzhou, born in the 90s)
I live and work in Wuxi, where there aren’t many wet markets. It takes several metro stops to get to one from where I live, so I usually use e-commerce platforms (Dingdong Maicai, Xiaoxiang Supermarket) or pop into nearby supermarkets (Hema, Aldi). However, my hometown, Wuzhou, has plenty of wet markets. Because it’s a smaller city, they aren’t far apart, and I used to visit them almost daily. The nearest one was only five or six hundred metres away—just a five-minute walk.
The Ultimate Wet Market Guide (Unfinished Edition)
Below are some wonderful wet markets in different cities recommended by our readers. See if there are any places you recognise! If you have any hidden gems to recommend, please leave a comment!@Juzi (Female, Wuzhou, born in the 90s)
I recommend the Yijing Market in my hometown of Wuzhou; it’s full of that wonderful, bustling atmosphere. From fruit, fresh vegetables, meat, and seafood to deli items, dried goods, and everyday staples like oil and salt… they have everything. It’s incredibly lively every morning. My mother ran a grocery stall in the market, so I spent my childhood wandering through the aisles. To me, going to a proper wet market is the only way to shop for groceries that feels right.
◉ Yijing Market on the morning of 28 November. Photo: Juzi’s mother@Anubis (Female, Hangzhou, born in the 90s)
I’m currently living in the rural northwest of Yuhang District, Hangzhou. There is a wet market in the town centre; I recommend the Pingyao Farmers’ Market and Huanghu Farmers’ Market. They are usually livelier on weekends with plenty of street vendors. It’s about a 20-minute cycle from my place.
@Yiwanchu (Female, Kunming, born in the 90s)
I recommend Fengdeng Farmers’ Market. They have delicious pickled garlic and vegetables, and some stalls sell home-grown mint, chillies, and fish mint—just sitting there on the windowsills.
@Liudazhuo (Female, Deyang, born in the 90s)
I’m in Guanghan, Sichuan. If you’re visiting the area, I highly recommend the Weituotang Wet Market, whichever is closest to you. It used to be a temple. Inside, you’ll find professional vendors alongside farmers and gardening enthusiasts selling what they’ve grown. Beyond the basic fruit and veg, everything from rice, flour, and oil to various seasonings is available. Occasionally, you’ll find people selling herbs, both dried and fresh. Sometimes there are flowers, or other curiosities. In short, it’s more than enough for all your daily needs!@Sunjiaxian (Male, Shenzhen, born in the 90s)
I’ve visited wet markets in many places, such as Shaxi in Dali, Duyun in Guizhou, and Mangshi. There aren’t that many wet markets in Shenzhen, but finding one that’s pleasant to browse isn’t too difficult. If you live near Taoyuan Xuefu Road in Nanshan, I recommend Dabanqiao—it’s only five minutes from my house. You can find seafood, roasted meats, and vegetables from various regions.
◉ Agricultural produce including lotus root, mushrooms, lettuce, and corn sold at a market in Duyun, Guizhou. Photo: Sunjiaxian@Fei (Female, Guangzhou, born in the 80s)
Every district in Guangzhou has its own unique markets. I’d like to highlight Shayuan Market, located in the western part of Haizhu District. It’s composed of three sections, including the Shayuan Agricultural and Side Products Market, with over 1,000 shops and stalls. The variety of goods is dazzling and the prices are affordable—for example, Beibei pumpkins at 10 yuan for 2kg or Zhanjiang oysters at 7 yuan each. It allows visitors to experience the quintessential Guangzhou characteristic of “ping, liang, zheng”—great value, high quality, and authentic.
◉ Shayuan Agricultural and Side Products Market, Haizhu District, Guangzhou. Image source: Yiding, Suyuan, Guo Yuan@Nanxiangzi (Female, Beijing, born in the 70s)
Living in Beijing, there are quite a few wet markets. Near Xixiaokou, to the north is the Sanqi Baihui Wet Market, which has an incredible variety of produce and a great fish and meat hall to explore. To the south is the Yongtai General Wet Market, which offers fresh vegetables as well as specialty cooked meats and a highly-regarded soy product shop. To the southwest is the Qinghe Wet Market, which is also well-stocked. These markets are all close to home—generally a 10 to 20-minute ride on an electric scooter.
@Yejiang
I once heard that temples have served as the centres of faith and community activity in Tainan since ancient times, and markets selling fresh produce and general goods gradually sprouted up around them. Shuixian Palace is a popular “Instagrammable” wet market that still retains the traditional look of Tainan’s old markets. Taiwan’s seafood is incredibly abundant, so you’ll see many stalls selling fish and seafood products, many of which make their own fish paste and fish balls on the spot. Under the gaze of the goddess Shuixian, I bought a few delicious fish balls. The squid balls were absolutely amazing—springy, juicy, and the best I’ve ever had in my life.
◉ A vendor making fish balls. Photo: Yejiang
The Wet Market as the “Local Neighbourhood”
Wet markets are inherently local; using food as a medium, they weave together the people of a neighbourhood, breathing in and out the vitality of a city. They hold not just food, but emotion. These emotions are sometimes crystallised as memories of the past, and other times they flow through new relationships. In short, while the wet market may be far from flawless, compared to supermarkets and fresh-food e-commerce platforms, it is a place where genuine human connection is far more likely to happen.◉ In a wet market, the intensity of communication requires the most direct means of expression: spoken language and body language. Photography: Orange Mum@Renso (Female, post-90s, Chiang Mai)
I live in Chiang Mai, and I’ve met half of my friends at the wet market. Local residents here are mostly kind and unassuming. When buying vegetables, I often don’t recognise the various types of leafy greens that all look like generic greenery, so I ask them what they are; before long, we become acquainted. I jokingly call the Chiang Mai wet markets my Thai language classrooms.
Chiang Mai has permanent wet markets, as well as ‘pop-up’ markets that only appear on Mondays or at the start of the month. I look forward to those early-month markets every time. One grandmother makes delicious egg yolk pastries, and another auntie grows incredibly fresh fruit and vegetables and produces high-quality honey; she even showed me her beehives and farm. In short, going to the wet market is a necessity for survival, but also a necessity for socialising.
@Fei (Female, post-80s, Guangzhou)
A pork stall I used to frequent moved away; there was no note from the owner, so I left disappointed. The next time I visited, I felt that such a good stall couldn’t possibly have closed for good. I wandered over to a newly opened one to try my luck, and from a distance, I spotted the familiar silhouette of the owner! I rushed forward to greet them, and as it happened, they had just been talking about me, worrying that I wouldn’t be able to find them. A heart’s yearning always finds its echo!◉ The Dongshan Meat and Vegetable Market in Guangzhou, which Fei frequently visits. Photography: FifiTung@A-Piao (Female, post-90s, Beijing)
There was a stall owner who sold only tomatoes. I bought from him every single time; he remembered me and would give me a discount. Those were the most delicious tomatoes I’ve ever eaten. Later, when I bought the same variety at other markets, none tasted as good as his, and I’ve never forgotten them.
There is also a more painful memory. Last winter, I bought some very sweet and delicious white strawberries at the market. I went through a lot of effort to add the owner on WeChat via a transfer note, as I wanted to buy some for my grandfather, who was fighting cancer. But the next day, before I had even finished packing my luggage to go home for the New Year, my mother called to say that my grandfather had passed away suddenly. I rushed home for the funeral, and in the end, I never did get those white strawberries. Even now, it remains a deep regret.
@Yejiang (Female, Heilongjiang)
I love browsing the early morning markets! As a child, I had to wake up early even in winter; at six in the morning, I’d be dragged out of bed to go to the morning market with my grandparents. Wrapped in a thick quilted jacket and double-layered quilted trousers, I’d head out looking like a little round ball. There were piles of ‘freshly picked garden veg this morning’, carts full of maize, Chinese cabbage, and potatoes, and hot-fried peanuts, melon seeds, and walnut kernels, as well as stalls selling flowers and bonsai. When I was little and curious, I would talk to the chickens and pigeons in their cages, only to be tugged back by my grandmother, who’d say, ‘Look how dirty they are!’◉ An early morning market in Daqing, Heilongjiang (in authentic Northeastern dialect, the ‘market’ in ‘morning market’ must be pronounced with an ‘er’ sound). Photography: Yejiang@Singharaja
I visited many wet markets this year; the most recent was an old market in Chengdu during a trip back home this summer. The alleys were narrow, the stalls crowded, and the air was a heady mix of spices, cooked food, and damp earth—the kind of place I’ve known since I was a child. I wasn’t in any rush to buy groceries; I just wanted to wander and look around, listening to the cries of the vendors and watching people haggle. For me, a wet market is a microcosm of daily social life, where one can feel the city’s true pulse: an elderly person scraping together spare change for a few spring onions, a vendor chatting with a regular while peeling bamboo shoots; life is reaffirmed in these fragmented sounds.@road
Compared to permanent wet markets, I feel a deeper connection to the grand fairs held before the Lunar New Year. I’ve always loved the concept of the ‘fair’—a place where people meet with their respective needs, wealth, and wisdom; where they haggle and tussle, trading when they agree and parting ways when they don’t, without coercion or sycophancy. Because the New Year is approaching, everyone is a little less calculating and a little more tolerant. The fair is precisely such a place for ‘out with the old, in with the new’.
◉ Chestnuts being stir-fried at a pre-New Year fair in Shenyang. Photo: road@Ling
When I moved to Singapore with my mother for two weeks, she rarely went out, appearing largely uninterested in her surroundings. The only place that made her eyes light up and for which she proactively asked to go was the Pasar (a transliteration of the Malay word for market), the local wet market. Only here could she regain her usual dexterity in shopping: sifting through piles of vegetables for ages, chatting about daily life with vendors of her own age, and instinctively bargaining. Even after items were weighed and bagged, she might casually toss another handful of coriander onto the scales (currently, my mother is still tempering this with her status as a foreigner, refraining from telling the vendor, “count this coriander as a little extra”, as she usually would).
The produce in the Pasar is imported from Malaysia, Indonesia, and China in plastic bags; it lacks a certain earthiness and locality, and is ultimately a different experience from the early markets back home where farmers sell their own crops. Yet, the Pasar still provides a daily web where food is the warp and human connection is the weft; shoppers and vendors alike build their lives through touch, a keen eye, and the art of haggling.
◉ Ling’s mother expertly selecting vegetables. Photo: Ling@溜达卓 (Female, Post-90s, Deyang)
I bring my own bags when I go shopping to reduce the use of plastic. Whenever a vendor asks me why, I don’t say it’s for environmental protection (as that feels too detached from their daily lives); I just say I’m helping them save a plastic bag. The vendors are always pleased, and occasionally they’ll even throw in some spring onions!@桔子 (Female, Wuzhou, Post-90s)
Since I was a child, I’ve helped my mother mind our shop in the market. We sold a huge variety of things—beyond oil, salt, soy sauce, and vinegar, we had all sorts of loose ingredients. There were multiple brands for every category; there was so much that I couldn’t even count it all in a day. Consequently, the little shop was always bustling; people would usually come to buy condiments after they’d finished their main grocery shopping, carrying bags full of produce.
◉ Juzi’s family seasoning shop. Photo: Juzi’s motherDuring the New Year, I always help out at the shop. Customers don’t just buy things and leave; they ask all sorts of questions: “What kind of flour should I use for this type of pastry?” “What dishes can I make with soybean paste?” “Are your century eggs good? Have you tried them?” And so on. I usually just brace myself and answer: “Our century eggs are definitely good!” Then an old lady would retort: “Hmph, of course you’d say that about your own. Have you actually eaten them or not?” “I… my mum has.” I’m really not good with words. In the end, my mother always saves the day; she’s incredible and can answer everything fluently, including how to make various pastries and clearly explaining the pros and cons of different brands of seasonings.
To have a successful business in a wet market, you need more than just sincerity; your products have to be top-notch. Because wet markets rely on repeat customers—if they buy something, take it home, and find it delicious, they will naturally return. I love this process of sincere human interaction, and I always enjoy the time I spend helping at the shop during the New Year.
Wet Market Survival Guide
After reading this “Wet Market Survival Guide” written by a few seasoned veterans, even a complete novice might feel confident enough to give it a go and discover the joy of visiting a wet market!@丁丁 (Female, Post-80s, Xi’an)
My tip for wet markets is to walk around once first, compare, and then choose the items that are relatively fresh and reasonably priced. Avoid vegetables that have been sprayed with water; for spinach, usually those with short stems and thick leaves are better, while for baby Chinese cabbage or Napa cabbage, look for those that are loose and have slightly yellowing leaves.
@阿猹 (Female, Post-90s, Beijing)
Be clear about what you want; otherwise, you’ll be nudged by the vendor into buying things you have no interest in just because they say it’s “delicious”. Be strict about the weight; and when picking vegetables, act naturally—don’t just delicately pinch them because you’re afraid of getting dirt on your fingers, as that makes you look like a complete novice. Give them some feedback, such as “a friend recommended I come here” or “Auntie told me your XX is delicious, I’ll take some”. This makes some vendors feel that you “get” them, and they’ll give you the freshest produce or share a better way to cook a certain vegetable.
◉ To a wet market novice, everything might just look like a sea of green, but to a seasoned pro, different vegetables have their own unique shapes, textures, and flavours. Photo: A Ta@Fei (Female, born in the 80s, Guangzhou)
If you’re visiting a market for the first time, look for where the crowds are gathering, or simply follow the local elders. Also, keep an eye out for the freshest, best produce, which stallholders usually place in prominent positions. As for vegetables, consider local and seasonal varieties; as the saying goes, “eat in season”—choose ingredients that align with the solar terms.@Liuda Zhuo (Female, born in the 90s, Deyang)
I usually try to buy from farmers who grow their own produce, because I know how hard the work is. Especially with seasonal leafy greens—you can get a huge bunch for very little money, but the physical effort, labour, and time invested behind it are immense. My advice is to stick to fruit and vegetables grown locally or in the surrounding area; they’ll taste better and the prices are fairer, whereas produce from elsewhere tends to be more expensive. So, when buying from a vendor, always ask where the produce comes from.◉ Many farmers often set up stalls on the periphery of the wet market to sell their own homegrown vegetables and fruit. Photo: Ye Jiang@Vivek (Female, born in the 70s, Dali)
Actually, you don’t need any special tactics; vendors want to deal with people who know their stuff. When they encounter someone confused yet argumentative and nitpicky, they can tell they’re just pretending to be a seasoned shopper.@Ju Zi (Female, born in the 90s, Wuzhou)
Once you enter the market, don’t be intimidated. Chat and mingle with the vendors; if someone is rude, just move on, but if you hit it off with someone, buy from them. If you’re worried about being ripped off, you can check the current market prices online beforehand—for example, compare them with prices on a supermarket mini-app—or ask several different stalls to compare freshness and price. At least then you’ll have a ballpark figure in mind.
As for picking produce, you can check the bottom cross-section of vegetables; if it’s moist, it’s fresh, but if it’s dried out and discoloured, it’s likely past its prime. If you’re picking tomatoes, look for those with six leaves; they’re slightly sweeter and juicier than those with five. Of course, the best way is simply to ask the vendor—they’re usually more than happy to show you how to pick the best ones.
◉ A vendor and a customer chatting. Photo: Yu Yang
Hidden Delicacies in the Wet Market
Unlike supermarkets, wet markets are often deeply intertwined with local culinary culture. When travelling to a city for a food tour, never overlook the hidden gems found in the wet markets. If your hometown has some incredible local specialties, feel free to name them in the comments!@イイϵ( ‘Θ’ )϶
If you visit a market in Yunnan, you must try the sliced cold beef from the Hui vendors—whether with dipping sauce or salt and pepper, it’s simply superb!
@Ye Jiang
I love breakfast at the morning market the most! There are baked naan, sliced savoury pancakes, tofu pudding, small wontons, and egg burgers. There’s always a massive queue for the deep-fried dough sticks; I’d buy a couple and sit under the canopy with a cup of soy milk… It’s still like that now, but I just can’t wake up that early anymore.
◉ Golden corn cakes. Photo: Ye Jiang@Anubis (Female, born in the 90s, Hangzhou)
At the Huanghu Farmers’ Market, there’s a stall run by an auntie who sells various homemade semi-prepared foods. Besides the usual steamed buns and rice cakes, her other offerings change frequently—fish balls, meat pies, steamed pork with rice flour, and more. Every time I visit the market, I have to see what she’s made that day.
@Tianle, Beijing
The market in Songyu has a great sewing shop, and the Nongguangli market has delicious shaobing. Whenever I go to the China Film Archive in Baizivan, I’ll stop by the large market next door to buy things like baked buns, braised goose, or sausages. They’re all made by the owners themselves, who possess a sense of professional pride and a relaxed air that you just don’t find in chain store employees—and the taste is excellent. The newly opened Teochew restaurant in the Wudaokou Farmers’ Market is delicious too!
◉ Welcome to the Wudaokou Farmers’ Market in Beijing, a place filled with delicious food. Photo: Yu Yang@Sun Jia Xian (Male, born in the 90s, Shenzhen)
When it comes to wet market delicacies in Guangdong, it has to be the roasted meats. I can get them at the market near my house—freshly roasted chicken every day for just 60 yuan a bird, and it tastes better than the roast chicken from any nearby restaurant.
◉Siu Mei: the joy Cantonese people simply cannot give up! Image source: Foodthink@Meizi Qing (Female, born in the 90s, Anshun)
The braised pork near the 303 Hospital market in Pingba District, and the roast duck at the old agricultural market in Pingba.
@Nan Xiang Zi (Female, born in the 70s, Beijing)
The braised pig’s head meat and original-flavour tofu at Yongtai General Market. The young man selling the pig’s head always wraps the meat in greaseproof paper; I really love this old-school, eco-friendly packaging.
@Ju Zi (Female, born in the 90s, Wuzhou)
The hand-shredded chicken, white cut chicken, roast duck, char siu, and roasted pork belly at Wuzhou’s Yijing Market—all authentic Cantonese flavours (I’m drooling just writing this…).
◉The large piece in the middle is roasted pork belly; to use the terms of ‘internet-famous’ foods, it’s basically crispy pork belly, haha. Photo: Ju Zi’s mother
What do wet markets look like abroad?
Since the last century, the spontaneous markets formed by farmers and urban residents in many countries have been replaced by standardised supermarket chains in the process of modernisation. This process first took place in the UK and subsequently spread across the world. So, do wet markets still exist abroad? And what are they like?@Ling
I’ve been in Singapore for two weeks. Just across the footbridge from our estate are two supermarket chains, FairPrice Finest and CS Fresh, but after one visit, my mother refused to go back. Instead, she is happy to brave the equatorial sun and walk 20 minutes to visit the pasar. The first time we went, I carried my daughter, who is not yet two, through the damp aisles between stalls. The elderly women selling vegetables clung to us like hungry tigers, showering the little girl with every sweet word imaginable. They even got into an argument over whether or not to give her chocolate, which nearly triggered my social anxiety on the spot.◉A fruit stall in the pasar. Photo: Ling
For an elderly woman from a small fifth-tier city in China, the pasar combines three elements that make her feel at home: the wet market, the language, and the human touch. To prove how great the pasar is, my mother tasked me with comparing the prices of every carton of eggs and every luffa with those in the supermarket. After some unit conversions, I concluded that the prices were much of a muchness. My mother remained unconvinced: ‘Look how fresh the eggs at the pasar are! I’ve raised chickens, so I know that only fresh eggs are hard to peel after boiling. Who knows how long the supermarket ones have been sitting in cold storage!’
◉Pumpkins imported to Singapore from Australia. Photo: Ling@Jingjing
In Granada, Spain, besides the city centre markets which cater to tourists and restaurants, some districts have their own wet markets. They have fixed opening hours and are relatively more expensive than budget supermarkets, but the ingredients are fresh and abundant.
@mundum
On a business trip to Thailand this year, I found the wet markets to be an absolute paradise for introverts, with markets of all sizes catering to different budgets. Or Tor Kor is probably the most ‘high-end’ wet market I’ve visited in Thailand. I’d read some reviews saying it was the cleanest and most expensive market in Bangkok. It was true—it really was clean, and the fruit was indeed expensive; perhaps you’re paying for the experience. There were plenty of local specialty fruits—wax apples, sugar apples, mangoes, papayas, guavas, coconut, pomelos, baby pineapples—yet the vendor was focused on recommending imported cherries to me…
◉A typical Thursday. Perhaps the echoes of a shooting incident from a few months ago still linger, as there were few customers even at half-past eight. Seafood trolleys wove through the chatting vendors; the durians hadn’t been cracked open for display yet. Photo: mundum@Miantuan
I currently live in Europe. In the small Spanish town where I reside, there are street markets every Saturday and Sunday that wrap up around 2 pm, after which street-cleaning vehicles tidy up the area. You have to register to set up a stall here; I’ve seen officials checking the permits of each vendor. Here, you can buy fresh seasonal fruit and vegetables, as well as various pickled preserves, and even bedsheets, blankets, clothes, shoes, and accessories—true street-market finds. The produce here is not only fresher and tastier than in the supermarkets and greengrocers, but also cheaper.
@Ye
Around last Christmas, while travelling in Florida, we stumbled upon a wet market south of Tampa. It was the peak of the Florida citrus season, and oranges, tangerines, and grapefruits were piled high at the entrance stalls. Even from a distance, I could feel a high-saturation wave of orange heat, radiating from the tip of my nose all the way to my brain. Stepping into the market was like Sun Wukong falling into the Peach Garden: cocoa, guava, canistel, milk fruit, sapodilla, starfruit, sugar apple, plantain… a whole genealogy of tropical fruits unfolded before me. Florida is a passionate, flamboyant place, and you can glimpse a bit of that just by visiting its wet markets.
◉If you smell and taste carefully, you will discover a wonderful ‘kinship’ between tropical fruits. Even when the flavours differ, there is always a common aromatic thread that strikes the senses. Photography: Ye
Visiting a Farmers’ Market
A ‘farmers’ market’ is a place where producers bring their own local ingredients into the city to set up collective stalls, and residents come to browse and buy produce directly from the growers. Therefore, unlike a typical wet market, a farmers’ market places greater emphasis on the direct connection between the farming producers and the consumers.@Anubis (Female, Hangzhou, born in the 90s)
There are many wet markets in my hometown of Rizhao, Shandong, but I highly recommend the village fairs; the markets in the larger villages are incredibly lively. In my village, there are four market days every ten days, following the lunar calendar. Additionally, a morning market forms on the pavement of one of the streets every single day. The fruit and vegetables at the fair are all local varieties: sweet-and-sour cherries and grapes, tomatoes that actually taste like tomatoes and cucumbers that taste like cucumbers… The farmers also take great pride in introducing their produce.@Bingman
Footfall at the market near my home has dropped sharply since the pandemic. One day, a page for the ‘Beijing Organic Farmers’ Market’ popped up on Xiaohongshu, and it was a revelation! For someone like me, who feels they haven’t truly ‘bought’ vegetables unless they have picked them personally, the market was a godsend. From the perspective of Traditional Chinese Medicine, one should eat local, seasonal produce. Those living vegetables, still clinging to the soil, have not been abused by chemicals; they have embraced the sunlight and played in the wind and rain, and have been kissed by the hands of the farming friends I know.
◉At the Beijing Organic Farmers’ Market, small-scale local ecological farmers and artisanal workshops producing additive-free ingredients sell their products directly to consumers. Photography: Yan Qiange@Fei (Female, born in the 80s, Guangzhou)
I rarely visit farmers’ markets, but recently, a vendor who drove all the way from Nansha to set up a stall in Liwan allowed me to buy some incredibly fresh Machong bananas and lemons!
@Adelaide
After starting work in Jinan, I noticed that some of the organic or “green” produce found in large supermarkets isn’t any cheaper than what you find at the organic farmers’ markets in Beijing, yet I have no way of verifying the production environment behind the labels. One could say that for ecological farmers, a stable connection with consumers is more precious than fleeting, localised profits. They don’t deliberately “package” their produce as the conventional food system does; instead, they candidly describe the growth and management of each crop, including those planting experiments that were relative failures.
◉ A visitor at the Beijing Organic Farmers’ Market selects vegetables grown by Ms Chen Yanhong, a farmer from Shunyi, Beijing. Photo: Adelaide@Zhang Xiaomao (Founder of the Chengdu Life Market)
One day every month, small and medium-sized farm owners from different parts of Sichuan carry freshly harvested grains, melons, and fruits to a certain corner of the city, rain or shine, to take part in the Chengdu Life Market and sell the rewards of their seasonal hard work. The feeling is completely different from ordering and receiving goods online; the market provides an opportunity for face-to-face human interaction. Beyond consumers meeting vendors, the vendors themselves need this monthly gathering. Going it alone is lonely; they need to build a system of mutual support. (Excerpted from “YOU Chengdu”‘s “Grab Your Bamboo Basket and Plate, Let’s Go to the Market”)
◉ Sun Wenxiang, one of the vendors at the Chengdu Life Market. The local heirloom “Red-beaked Glutinous Rice” he preserves with his family has been included in the International Slow Food movement’s “Ark of Taste”. Sun Wenxiang has also been featured in the book *Disappearing Foods* as a protector of rice varieties. Photo: Zhang Xiaomao
The Future of Wet Markets
Compared to the past, what has changed in today’s wet markets? What impact have these changes had? Faced with the pressure from supermarkets and e-commerce, how should they develop in the future to protect their space for survival?@Octopus (Female, born in the 80s, Osaka)
Let me talk about the changes in the wet markets of my small hometown! Firstly, the management of the markets has become increasingly standardised. Secondly, the produce being sold has changed: it used to be people from villages around the city bringing their own crops to sell; now, it’s more often wholesalers buying from large-scale farms to sell in the market. While transportation has improved and the variety of vegetables has increased, the distinct flavour of the vegetables has grown fainter.@Meiziqing (Female, born in the 90s, Anshun)
Things have changed. Although they used to be dirty, chaotic, and poorly maintained—my memory of wet markets is of floors always covered in a thin layer of slush that were never clean—they were full of human warmth. There were always a few stalls where the produce was cheap, delicious, clean, and trustworthy. If a family member mentioned a specific stall, you could find it instantly. Today’s wet markets have been renovated into uniform layouts with stalls paved in the same white porcelain tiles. They look clean, but footfall has plummeted; people simply don’t enjoy browsing the markets anymore.@A-Ba (Female, born in the 90s, Beijing)
They’re cleaner than when I was a child, but most people now are sellers of vegetables rather than the producers. When I was little, there was often a group of silent elderly people in the corners of the market; they weren’t very good at sales, but their chives had red roots, and although their aubergines and cucumbers were crooked, they were all seasonal produce from the fields. Now, sometimes when I ask a stall owner how to cook a certain vegetable, they actually know less than I do.@Vivek (Female, born in the 70s, Dali)
There are more and more restrictions on stalls; open-air fairs have turned into indoor stalls, and the commercial feel is becoming stronger. There are more vegetable vendors, fewer farmers, and more and more farmers selling or renting out their land!@Zhong Shuru
In my view, simply proclaiming the humanistic value of wet markets is not enough. Ultimately, a wet market is a place for buying and selling vegetables. The key to sustainable development is how to attract young people to these markets and how to make the markets adapt to the pace of urban renewal.
During my research, I found many wet markets innovating within their core business. For instance, to keep up with the pace of young people’s lives, the Lingnan Group in Guangzhou plans to sell pre-cut, semi-prepared meal kits in its markets. Consumers can buy them and cook them quickly at home, allowing young people who want to cook but lack time to satisfy their urge to stir-fry. Technological upgrades are also a trend. Hangzhou is building various “Smart Wet Markets”; within a clean, tidy, and bright new environment, they have integrated elements such as QR codes for produce traceability, face-recognition payments, 30-minute home delivery for online orders, and even livestream shopping.
As long as there are people who love buying fresh produce and cooking, and as long as city managers adopt an inclusive approach to the governance of wet markets, we have every reason to believe that wet markets will continue to exist in the future, and they will become even more diverse and exciting.
◉ The damp floor before renovation. Photo: Zhong Shuru◉ After renovation, the floor is clean and dry, and the shopping experience has greatly improved. Photo: Zhong Shuru