Recently the New York Times ran a small story about Europe’s reversal of a ban on selling “ugly” produce. At the time I laughed at the bizarreness of this ruling. I did the same two weekends ago as I stood on line at the Phoenixville Farmers’ Market, a knobbly parsnip clutched in my right hand. Years of hanging out at farmers’ markets and of intermittently and unsuccessfully growing my own vegetables have taught me that beautiful does not mean better. In fact, in most instances the pretty produce found at grocery stores is downright bland. Granted, every now and then my farmer’s market purchases might yield a crooked carrot or dirt still clinging to my microgreens. Yet, because of the wealth of good, seasonal products and opportunity to support local and increasingly biodynamic farmers, it remains my preferred place for produce. Thanks to the luxury of travel and of dividing my time between city and suburban life, I have a long list of favorite markets at which I shop. In New York I go to the place that anyone who has ever lived in or around the city seems to know, Union Square’s Greenmarket. Greenmarket has …