Opening day at the Ferry Building on the last Saturday in April, when the Ferry Plaza farmers set up their tent city of food stalls in the arcades and the plaza behind the building, created a real estate miracle in the stagnated economy of this city. Thousands and thousands of people poured in and around the painstakingly restored historic structure, people who had never set food in a farmers market before, people who has been dreading the move for months, people who were curious and excited about the move, people who happened to be strolling down the Embarcadero after being disgorged from a monumental cruise ship on Pier 35; people who heard about the event from a live KGO broadcast. What had been a cold, cavernous space hidden behind construction barriers seemingly for years, came alive in a way no one could have imagined. When the farmers piled their tables with brilliantly colorful beets and irises and sweet peas and artichokes; and the bread booths and honey stands and cheese tables poured forth their cornucopia; everyone there understood that this spot, on the edge of the bay at the apex of Market street where ferry boats and street cars and BART converge, had the potential to be the most exciting central market of the 21st century.

By the end of the day, all the mired lease deals for the interior nave of the building moved forward; all the letters of intent were hastily signed. The tenants for the interior space that the Ferry Building developers had been so assiduously courting--Hog Island Oyster Company, Doug Biederbeck's MarketBar, McEvoy Olive Oil, Scharffen Berger Chocolate, Acme Bread, Cowgirl Creamery and Artisan Cheese, Chinatown's Imperial Tea Court, among many others--saw the light. This central market could work. People would come. This is what it would feel like.

It has been five weeks since the opening and amazingly enough, the excitement still mounts. The farmers who set up their tents and tables outdoors and under the arcades on Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday, are untypically effusive about how much produce they're moving. They're seeing many new faces; many of their tables are shopped bare by the end of the market. Anxiety over the move from the former site on a parking lot at Embarcadero at Green lifted as more and more flats of Blenheim apricots and Seascape strawberries disappeared. The inconvenience of off-loading trucks onto tables set up along the Embarcadero faded away when there was nothing left to haul back at the end of the day.

But not everyone is ecstatic about the move. A lot of loyal shoppers who have almost religiously supported the market for eight years, feel lost in the crowds and exhausted by the new configuration. The layout of the stalls spreads out into the north and south sections of arcades on the Embarcadero and onto the plaza in the back of the building. Distances are long. And the amenity of sitting and socializing in a little cafe across the street from the old market location has yet to be replicated in the Ferry Building, though a grass roots movement by some of the market's more high profile regulars is afoot to lease a space that looks out to the bay and the market plaza for a new cafe.

Parking is another hot button issue. With validation at the market information booth, 60 cars can park for $2 an hour on Saturdays on Pier 1/2 and at a 130 stall lot across the Embarcadero at Washington. Parking at a multi story 400 car structure on Howard and Steuart is currently free on Saturday with a voucher from the info booth, but will cost a flat $3 for all day. Of course shoppers can always luck into one of the 700 metered spaces on the streets near the Ferry Building, including 50 choice spots freshly metered right across the Embarcadero. Some of these street spaces have two hour meters, some, one hour, some, thirty minutes. The hope of the Ferry Building planners is to get the DPT to ease up on Saturdays during the market when the area has been pretty empty anyway.

Since all parking options and indeed, the market layout itself, neccesitates more walking, those who have too much to carry can park their bags and baskets at the Veggie Valet on the north arcade and pick them up at a loading zone.

Maybe the biggest complaint from the old timers is about the vibe of the new market. At the Green street location, the market had a coherent circular traffic pattern. A judcious shopper could start at one point and circle the market twice, hitting every stall, first on one side of the lane, and then on the other. Though it got very crowded, shoppers could easily exit onto a street to walk back to the car, or step out of the fray at one end, for a rest on the lawn. Also, there was an informal center to the market, an area by the information booth near the hot food stalls and in sight of the cafe across the street. Regulars always ran into people they knew. The Saturday market became a town square, a weekly gathering of the like-minded, who knew exactly how early they had to arrive to secure a Hoffman chicken or a bunch of parrot tulips.

The traffic flow of the new market obviously is a work in progress. On opening day, the area by the breakfast stands and ACME bread booth, quickly termed the mosh pit by workers at the booths, was so packed that people entering the area feared they might never get out. Immediate adjustments were made the next Saturday, and traffic flow at each subsequent market has improved. But the layout of the new market is still confusing. It took me, a regular shopper for the past ten years, a full five weeks to figure out where my favorite stalls are located now. There seems to be no rhyme or reason to the arrangment. Plus, I have to cover at least four times the ground if I want to survey the whole market, taste all the cherries or stone fruit or carrots to decide which to buy, and then walk back to purchase. (I buy cases for my restaurant.) It's exhausting, especially when the crowds are thick.

However, I too breathe a sigh of relief at the success of the new, more central location. Though I miss the intimacy and manageability of the old market I am happy about increased sales for the farmers (none of whom I see driving to the city in Hummers), and for the broader outreach of this farmers market.

The Ferry Plaza Farmers Market, once almost a north end San Francisco club, has become an inclusive market with a much wider customer base. This means that more people are exposed to the products and principles of small family farmers who practice sustainable agriculture. Most urbanites have no idea where their food comes from or how its produced--and don't care until some environmental or health crisis throws its provenance into the public consciousness. Most people are only vaguely aware that northern California has become a center for a type of farming that sustains the earth, produces the tastiest and most nutritious food and creates a cutting edge variety of products that inspires both professional and home cooks. Yet, the day to day existence of these small, sustainable farms continues to be a struggle. Venues like the Ferry Plaza Farmers Market keep these endangered operations in business. Conversely, with the four-day-a-week farmers' market there, the refurbished Ferry Building actually could turn into a central market in the tradition of great urban markets around the world. Already the environs of this historic building provide a showplace for the best of our local bounty.

Ferry Plaza Farmers Market hours:

• Saturday 8 a.m. to 1:30 p.m.
  Tuesday 10:30 a.m. to 2:30 p.m.
  Thursday 3 to 7 p.m.
  Sunday Garden Market 8 a.m. to 2 p.m.
• Read more about the San Francisco Farmer's Market.

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