There is such brazen provocation being offered, and such shameless culinary carrying on taking place, at the Saturday Temple Bar Market, that it's a wonder it is permitted in a Christian capital. Early Saturday morning you stroll in to a space which is so cosy it feels as though it was designed for an artisan's market, and within a minute your head is spinning with the promise of the pleasures to come: Baba Ghanoush, Mesclun, Clonakilty pudding rolls, peach juice, tomato, pepper and pork brochettes, Jalapeno en Escabeche, sun-dried tomato and ricotta bread, burritos, Moroccan merguez, fresh Corleggy cheese and Drumeel Farm venison.
If you are a food junkie, then the Temple Bar market is the opium den in heaven. Rarely has so much been offered to so many in such a small space.
The secret of the market's success, I think, lies in the fact that so many of the foods sold by the producers are complementary to each other and allow you to concoct delicious dishes effortlessly. You shop, you rush home, then you cook and eat.
For example, if you want something simple for the Saturday lunch, head to Frank Hederman's stall, near to the corner at the walkway entrance from Eustace Street, and buy a few big handfuls of smoked mussels. Perfectly smoked by the man himself, they are then cured in olive oil, sunflower oil and white wine vinegar (and I suspect a few other things which Frank Hederman wisely refuses to divulge).
Close by, from Nicole Blum and Jonathan Carr's stall you can buy a big bag of splendid mesclun salad mix: rocket; mizuna; red mustard; curly cress; beet greens; blossoms of borage and wild pansy. Pop around the other side of the central set of stalls and get some fresh pasta from Karen and Paul Coleman of Planet Pasta.
Take them home and, while the tagliatelle is cooking, dust off the leaves and dress them with good olive oil and lemon juice - a vinaigrette would mask some of their distinctive and diverse flavours. When the pasta is cooked, drain and drop it into a large bowl. Throw in the smoked mussels with their juices, then add an extra dollop of olive oil. Open a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc.
Call everyone to the table, fill their glasses, then watch them swoon. Bring in the salad and enjoy everyone enthusing over the brilliant purple of the borage, the dance of colours of the wild pansies and the delicate filigree of the mizuna. But don't tell them that the preparation time amounted to a whole five minutes.
This is what the Temple Bar market can do. Touring it, you get a rush of ideas about mixing and matching foods. If Nicole and Jonathan have lovely beets, then you need only walk over to Seamus Sheridan's stall to buy some goat's cheese and you can do Paul and Jeanne Rankin's recipe - from Gourmet Ireland 1 - for baked goat's cheese with roast beetroot.
If Denis Healy has a bag of his baby potatoes - named "Denis and Hilary's Babies" - then it is back to Seamus Sheridan for some gorgonzola and it is the day to do Bernadette O'Shea's pizza with baby roast potatoes, gorgonzola and sauteed onions. Or you might buy your beets here, and make a gorgeous beetroot and coconut ragout, a recipe we concocted one evening and which is featured right.
With the sun-dried peppers from the Real Olive Co, we can make a supper dish of risotto with sun-dried peppers, spring onions and basil. With the radishes from Teresa Kennedy, why not put together a Lettercollum House Radish Tzatziki? It's just the thing to go with some lamb from Pat Cremin's Drumeel Farm.
And if the day is fine, then snap up some pork brochettes from Olivier and Yseult at the On The Pig's Back stall, walk a few paces and snap up some orange and fennel sausages from Ed Hick (grabbing a grilled sausage to munch on), and don't forget to pick up some little finger courgettes. Cart them all home, light the barbecue, open a beer, nibble an olive or 12 as you grill them, and say softly to yourself, "Thank heaven it's Saturday!"
If the day is fine, you might say: let's have a picnic! So, from Anne Rossiter's stall, buy some nori maki sushi, and a few slices of polenta, lemon and almond cake, and some tabbouleh. From the Gallic Kitchen stall get some tomato, basil and mozzarella quiches, and maybe a few burritos, which demand that you get some salsa from Gus and Theresa Hernandez at the Sabores de Mexico stall. A bag or two of real fudge from Brighid at The Wabbit Co, maybe a few choice chocs from Helena at Chez Emily, a slice of the fine Dunbarra Goat's cheese, and off you go to the beach.
This is only the veritable tip of the iceberg with the Temple Bar market. Now that basil is in abundance, buy a bagful and make the recipe for basil and caper sauce we featured last week (get the capers from the Real Olive stall). Or buy purble basil, which makes the best pesto or basil oil.
If you plan to entertain on Saturday or Sunday, then cut down on the work by buying smoked salmon from Frank Hederman, terrines from On The Pig's Back, cheeses from Sheridan's (don't miss the incredible aged Durrus which Mr Sheridan matures and sells: it's the best I have tasted), some salad leaves from Denis Healy (especially redina, a triplered variety), then you have only to prepare a main course. If you feel like the exotic, then go for the stalls selling Indian spices and pulses and grains, Mexican tacos and salsas, five-year-old pickled garlic, spanokopitta and baklava, sun-dried tomato pesto, hand-made pasta made from free-range eggs and durum flour, ciabatta, you name it.
But there is an extra element which makes all of this glorious food special: the passionate belief of the stall-holders in what they make and sell. "I'm going to convert Ireland to real jam-making," says Joss O'Neill, who makes all the jams, marmalades and preserves for the Subh stall.
"99.9 per cent of my stuff goes to Organic Foods, so I come up here for the crack, I really missed not selling direct to people," says Denis Healy.
"A lot of things sold as fudge are not fudge," says Brighid Goulet-Diskin of The Wabbit Company. "It must be buttery but also crumbly, and not a soft caramel. Mine is completely handmade, and we are a real cottage company: I work from a cottage."
"We bring the freshly baked supplies down four times during the day on the bike from Francis Street," says Sarah Webb of the Gallic Kitchen. "It's all picked last night, and that's no word of a lie," Teresa Kavanagh says of the Garristown Farm produce. "I look after my venison from conception to consumer," says Pat Cremin. "We make the salsas the proper way, the way they make them in Mexico," says Theresa Hernandez of Sabores de Mexico.
Talk to Miriam Griffith who makes and sells Olvi Oils and you get a torrent of ideas: "I use the Manoucher bread, and I put on black olive paste with mozzarella cheese and roasted peppers. It's also really good with goat's cheese, sun-dried tomato pesto and toasted pine nuts."
Nicole Blum and Jonathan Carr offer you a little Kelvedon Wonder pea and say "Isn't that sweetness itself!"
"We use no additives or preservatives," says Helena Hemeryck of the lovely Chez Emily chocolates, while Richard and Carolina Brennan are just too busy brewing up fresh juices to talk.