In the dappling shade of a London planetree, between challa slices and lulo jam, the pull of  community underlined every transaction. As today was my first day, I was shadowing Adam, of  Goodgrow, and while I learned a lot about the products (and will likely be haunted by the  memory of the lulo-maracuyá and mango-maracuyá jams (bestsellers for a very good reason)),  the thing that really stood out to me was how deeply personable Adam's style of engagement  with both clients and other vendors was. Whether approaching new customers, delivering the  information and story behind the brand, or continuing conversations with repeat clients, his  interactions felt less like someone trying to sell something, and more like someone who is  in community, and happens to represent a great product with great people and practices  behind it.  

I highlight this because it's relatively easy to sell something that's as sensorily good as  these jams; the first jam I tried was the lulo-maracuyá, which Adam told me tasted "a bit  like a pineapple and a lemon," but was in fact its own entirely separate and annoyingly  delicious flavor that skipped over my tongue's surface like a bright drop of rain; one  person tried some mango-maracuyá and her eyes flew wide open as the flavor made her "feel  like [she] ate an entire mango" from her childhood in Thailand. She ended up picking it up  while making plans to return when the lulo-maracuyá is back in stock. What's substantially  harder, but more important, what I saw Adam doing that I know makes a difference, was taking  the time to talk to people and (re)connect without any outcome necessarily being sought.

 In previous roles, I've had the importance of relationship building stressed, but always  within the context of securing a sale. This is a benefit of market operations, and what I  believe is essential to the future sustainability of both industry and life is an emphasis  on relationships for their own sake, and on community as a state of being. While this might  result in the same behavior of money and goods being exchanged, shifting the focus of  maintaining a web of harmonious relationships from acquiring financial capital to acquiring  and maintaining social capital allows for innovation that also makes sure everyone  participating is secured and taken care of.  

What I think matters the most within the system underlining interactions with both market  shoppers and vendors is the fact that there's a consistent push and pull of past experiences  with new appearances that results in an ecosystem that is adaptable, productive, and a mix  of quality staples and novel experiences. Today's market focused on jams, but Goodgrow  partners with artisanal producers from around the world to deliver high quality, natural  products that satisfy the desire for different, new things among other consistent products.  This communal nature has also led to Goodgrow's presence at 111th st and Manhattan Ave.

Adam told me at one point that he was inspired to start selling in the Morningside Park  market following a series of conversations with another vendor, Rich, of Lovers Rock Sea  Moss, and after trying the jam sold by Helena, of Artesanales Helenita in Cali, Colombia,  among other products. In addition to providing samples and the story to people passing by,  Adam also gives some to the daughters of Charles, of Harlem Book Company, and suggests to  another customer that the jam would work well in a cheeseboard from Melissa at McGrath  Cheese Company, while dreaming of doubles from Trini Treats Queens. "This market is so  good," he confided, "but then you end up spending all the money you made." His laughter was  palpable, and frankly I could see the same result happening to me.  

I believe that's the whole point of community, though. At some level, it's about providing a  good and service for people, and using the proceeds of that to acquire goods and services  from them. The money ebbs and flows, but I believe that with each exchange, especially those  in person, it deposits more communal "silt" that bonds a group into a more resilient whole  that can provide aid in less formalized ways, which is, in turn, what community is all  about. It can also, it seems, bring some pretty amazing jam from the Andes to the Hudson.

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