Meet Me at Third & Fairfax
When we asked one of our culinary professors where to go in Los Angeles for a real food experience, she didn’t name a restaurant. She said, “Go to the Farmers Market at Third and Fairfax.” So we did.
We Came Hungry
We arrived with empty stomachs and no real plan, which turned out to be exactly the right way to do it. The market isn’t something you check off a list. It’s a maze of stalls, counters, and little kitchens, and the fun is in getting a little lost.
Within five minutes we were stopping every few steps. Someone was carving meat off a skewer. Someone else was stacking fruit we couldn’t name. It smelled like grilled meat, sugar, and coffee all at once.
A Dairy Farm, an Oil Field, and a Few Farm Trucks
Long before there was a market here, this land was a dairy farm. Arthur Fremont Gilmore bought it in the 1880s, and while his family was drilling for water, they struck oil instead. The cows gave way to oil rigs, and the Gilmore Oil Company was born.
Then, in the middle of the Great Depression, two men named Fred Beck and Roger Dahlhjelm brought A.F.’s son, Earl Gilmore, what they called “an idea”: let local farmers sell their harvest right here on the corner. In July 1934, eighteen trucks pulled onto the empty lot, paid 50 cents a day, and sold produce straight off the tailgate to neighborhood families.
The Market That Told the Truth
It caught on fast. By that October, vendors were already moving into permanent stalls, and the founders threw the first Fall Festival to celebrate. Fred Beck even wrote a daily newspaper column about the market, and he was famously honest. One day he told readers the tomatoes were third-rate and not worth their money.
Hollywood found the market soon after. Gossip columnists reported celebrity sightings, and the stars came to shop and eat like everyone else. The clock tower went up in 1948, and in 1991 the city named the market a Historic-Cultural Monument. Walt Disney is even said to have sketched early ideas for Disneyland while sitting on the market’s patio.
Crates, Chalkboards, and Saucer Peaches
The produce stalls are where the market’s farm-truck roots still show. Wooden crates of Kent mangoes, deep purple plums, and sweet potatoes stretched down the aisle, with prices chalked on little boards.
The saucer peaches stopped us. They’re flat, like someone gently pressed them, and they’re so sweet and low in acid that they’re one of my favorite fruits to hand a kid who says they “don’t like peaches.”
“Please Don’t Push Me, I’m Delicate”
A few steps over, another stand looked like a geography lesson. Hairy red rambutan, kumquats, figs, cherimoya cradled in foam nets, Asian pears, jujubes, and cactus pears all lined up together.
My favorite detail was a handwritten sign on the dragon fruit begging shoppers not to push it because it’s delicate. That’s the kind of thing that makes a market feel human. It also made us want to bring home one fruit we’d never cooked with, which is a habit I’d recommend to anyone.
Ask Your Butcher Anything
Huntington Meats has the kind of case that makes you want to cook dinner immediately. Skirt steak laid out in long ribbons, thick Spencer steaks, tomahawks, and ground beef in several blends.
If you’ve never heard of a Spencer steak, it’s simply a boneless ribeye, a name you’ll mostly hear on the West Coast. This is exactly why I love shopping at a real butcher counter. You can ask what a cut is, how to cook it, and what to buy if you’re feeding a family on a budget, and you’ll get a real answer.
A quick tip we always share with our students: when you buy whole fish, look at the eyes. Clear, bright, and full means fresh. Cloudy and sunken means keep walking.
A Little Trip to France
Walking into Monsieur Marcel felt like stepping into a French market. The jam wall alone could keep you busy for an hour, with marmalades, curds, fruit preserves, and chutneys from France, England, and right here at home.
Their seafood counter had escargot already stuffed with garlic and herb butter, seasoned New Orleans shrimp, and herring fillets resting in oil. It was a good reminder that “gourmet” doesn’t have to mean fussy. Most of it is just good ingredients, prepared with care.
Carved Right Off the Skewer
For lunch we followed the smoke to Pampas Grill, a Brazilian churrascaria. The cooks carve the meat straight off long skewers onto your plate, and you pay by weight, so you can try a little of several things.
Watching the knife work was half the fun. That dark, crackly crust only comes from slow roasting over high heat, with salt doing most of the seasoning.
Our plate came with sweet fried plantains, marinated beets, and a salad with hearts of palm. Around every corner was something else we wanted to try, from Trejo’s Tacos to a whole case of empanadas filled with everything from Filipino chicken to a Cuban. We may need a second trip.
Old-Fashioned and Made Right There
No trip to the market is complete without Bennett’s. They’ve been scooping since 1963 and still make their own old-fashioned ice cream. The red-and-white counter, the vintage soda signs, and the shakes and floats on the menu feel like a step back in time.
There’s a little sign behind the counter that says life is short, so lick fast. In the Southern California heat, that’s good advice.
We left with full bellies, a few treats for the road, and a notebook full of ideas. More than anything, we left reminded of why markets matter. They connect you to the people who grow, cut, bake, and cook your food, and every stall is a chance to ask a question and learn something.
A big thank you to our culinary professor for pointing us here. She was right.
Shop Like a Chef
Walk the whole market once before you buy anything, so you can see what looks best today.
Ask the vendor, “What’s really good right now?” Then ask how they like to cook it.
Bring home one fruit or vegetable you’ve never cooked with, and figure it out together in the kitchen.