Robert Sietsema

Farmers' markets are a bit like inebriation: They have a way of amplifying the best and worst parts of one's personality, of shaving away pleasantries to reveal a certain hard nut of truth about human nature. And they're also like an open-air subway car, particularly on Saturdays around noon. As such, there are many, many opportunities for bad and/or clueless behavior among shoppers crowded together in the common pursuit of produce. And so we at Fork in the Road have compiled a guide to Greenmarket etiquette, one that we hope will go some ways toward preventing certain lapses in common sense and courtesy, not to mention physical altercations.

Please refrain from paying for your $3.85 worth of onions with a $50 or $100 bill.

Or anything over a $20, really. We were in line behind someone who did this last week, and watched the poor farmer dig through two different cash boxes for the necessary change while his customer stood by impassively, oblivious to both the distress she was causing and the utter hatred of everyone standing in line behind her. Go to Starbucks, or Barnes & Noble, or any of the big corporate stores bordering Union Square, and ask the cashier to break that $100 bill that's just been burning a hole in your wallet. You're buying onions that are priced at 75 cents per pound, not an embossed dog collar at the Vuitton flagship store.

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This is your future, Brooklyn.

Oh, Brooklyn. We stood by you as your chocolatiers congratulated themselves on their "childlike curiosity." We had your back when the owner of your new-wave soda fountain described the mise en place required for making an egg cream. We even stuck around when your best-known artisanal butcher proudly proclaimed that his new hamburger stand on Rockaway Beach, Queens, was "by Brooklyn, for Brooklyn." But now you're going to be home to a store dedicated entirely to "high-end mayonnaise," and we're not sure we can go along for your ride any longer.

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Essex Street Market

Though the Essex Street Market faces a somewhat uncertain future at the corner of Essex and Delancey streets, there are some positive developments taking place between its 71-year-old walls.

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Stephanie B./Yelp

The culinary gentrification of the San Gennaro Festival isn't the only change to befall Little Italy this month: Ray's Pizza, the oldest (and first) Ray's in the city, will likely end its 52 years at 27 Prince Street after the festival wraps up on September 25.

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Rebecca Marx

So it's once again Friday afternoon, and thus time to look back at the week that was:

Eduard Frauneder and Wolfgang Ban talk about the state of Germanic food in NYC and favorite Oktoberfest beers.

My 10 Best Fat Pants Fridays.

A few thoughts on Sam Sifton's replacement at The New York Times.

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Harvard School of Public Health

Last June, the USDA replaced its long-suffering food guide pyramid with the more plain-spoken MyPlate. Its merits quickly became a source of debate among nutritionists and public policy types, including those at the Harvard School of Public Health. And now scientists there have done what people at Harvard tend to do, which is to say they've come up with something better.

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Rebecca Marx

Because this is the very last Fat Pants Friday installment I'll ever write (not counting, of course, this morning's regurgitation of my all-time favorites), I spent a fair amount of time trying to decide how to best consume my last professionally-mandated serving of simple carbohydrates. Until I finally realized that it only made sense to do so by returning to the origin of my New York bakery obsession, the monkey cake made at Amy's Bread.

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Not that kind of bear.

Earlier this month, Natasha Pogrebinsky announced she would be leaving the Castello Plan to open her own place. Although some assumed that Pogrebinsky would remain in Ditmas Park, where she helped open the Castello Plan in February 2010, she'll instead be leaving Brooklyn for Queens.

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Rebecca Marx

Cake Shop's peanut butter bomb.

I have spent the last 18 months or so eating untold amounts of fat and sugar, often but not always in the name of Fat Pants Friday. This column has given me a great excuse to coddle my sweet tooth, and more importantly, to visit and revisit some of the city's best bakeries and pastry pushers. It has, as one would expect, been a lot of fun, and a lot of calories. Today is my last Fat Pants Friday, and I've been asked to mark the occasion by revisiting my 10 all-time favorite excursions, the ones that have continued to haunt my daydreams long after my blood sugar has descended to a safe level and my teeth have stopped hurting. They're in no particular order, for the simple reason that I love them all.

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Changes, mutations, and alterations are afoot across town today.

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