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Crowds, an ethnic stew. A melange of spices, fresh produce and the smoke of meat over flame compose the sensory refrain. Exhaust notes from creeping cars prowling for perfect parking and bright chatter are the grace notes. The River Market transforms itself on weekends. It evokes the spirit and tradition of the bazaar; the center of social life and commerce in more rustic places. The rough and simple way of living that depends upon a more direct connection between food and people than we are used to. Prowling between peeling wooden benches filled with flats of ripe fruit and vegetables and hearing the lilt of different tongues adds just the right accent to a Saturday. It’s a reminder that despite living in the heart of the U.S., the world will still come to us, if we let it.

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Laugh(ing)