Among the labyrinths of traffic and Madonna statues in Union Square, Sherman Market is easy to miss. There’s no sign, just a couple of 8.5 x 11 printouts taped to the windows. We walked right past it the first time, and you will too.

But step inside, and you’re met with cherry red shelves stacked with honey, rustic loaves of bread, glass bottles of milk, baskets of winter squash all dappled and glowing in the fall light, and Matt Lavallee, slapping a side of beef with a gloved hand.

“I like to give it a good smack,” Lavallee says, before hefting the brisket into a glass-front refrigerator and inviting you to try some cheese (this one has lavender in it) or a sip of black currant juice (so rich and winy, it stains your lips). Lavallee, who’s had stints at Formaggio Kitchen and The Fishmonger, sits behind the counter here, at Somerville’s newest, coolest grocery, with Jodi Malone, who ran an independent bookstore. We hung around one fall afternoon, hoping they’d toss us some more samples.

Just weeks old, Sherman Market is already implementing an exciting project: to source all its products from local farms and producers. This means everything – from meat to soap – comes either from Boston or other surrounding areas of Massachusetts, Maine, Rhode Island, Vermont, New York, and New Jersey, with just a few exceptions like yogurt from Quebec and pretzels from Pennsylvania.

It sounds like one of those great-in-theory-but-not-so-practical spots, nice on the conscience, but not the wallet. Pretty, with the hardwood floors and chalkboards, but a place you’d go on the way to your Market Basket, your Trader Joe’s. And there is some whimsy to be sure (little golden grains of bee pollen! Hived on the streets of Boston!). Tofu made from non-Monsanto soybeans a few miles away in Jamaica Plain (didn’t you just know tofu was being made somewhere in JP?). There’s cultured butter rolled up in pretty yellow paper. And, recently posted to the market’s Twitter: “LARD. Several packages of it.”

But if you come for the foodie items, you’ll end up staying for the basics. Prices are really low. Our favorites: frothy milk in real glass bottles (return the bottle and get your dollar deposit back). Eggs with yolks the color of fall leaves (cheaper than the “free-range” ones at Trader Joe’s). Fresh bread from Clear Flour Bakery and B&R Artisan, with day-old loaves at a steep discount which, as Jodi points out, are perfect for turning into a savory bread pudding.

Still, because Sherman Market is still in its soft-open stage – hence the lack of sign – you won’t find everything you may be looking for. Canned goods are limited to a few clam chowders and pasta sauces. Produce is dependent on farmers’ deliveries (some via those hot Metro Pedal Power bikes). But there is definitely something exciting about walking in and not knowing what you’ll find. And if you don’t find what you want, write it down in the notebook on the counter. Many earlier recorded suggestions – like Moon Brine pickles and 21^st Century Tofu– are now on the shelves.

It’s that kind of populist spirit that brought Sherman Market into existence. The shop is owned by the same folks who run Sherman Café around the corner. Instead of a bank loan, Sherman Market was funded by “Sherman Shares,” loans provided by future customers that are now being repaid in groceries.

Everything is hands-on, and the scale is small. Samples are constantly taken from a small, well-stocked cheese case (our favorite: the creamy, sour Bayley Hazen Blue from Jasper Hill Farms in Vermont). There’s also a really sensible way of selling herbs: by weight, not by the bunch. You can get a couple of exquisite sprigs of fresh thyme for a handful of pennies, and avoid guilt over a moldering pile of herbs in your fridge. Express interest in an odd-looking root, like celeriac or kohlrabi, and Jodi will give you a recipe (she likes to grate them into a winter slaw). Pick up the weird ball of lamb soup bones and Matt will tell you how to brown the bones and make stock. A shelf of cookbooks in the back might become a lending library.

It’s all very cozy, but as the afternoon crept into twilight, we had to ask the question. Eating locally is a pleasure in the summer and fall, when farmer’s markets overflow with the bounty of New England. “But what about that whole…winter thing?”

Jodi, known to dress up in ballgowns and go outside to play in the first snow, isn’t worried. She wants to get a food dehydrator and start drying and canning. Matt is poetic. “Winter is like being in a bad relationship,” Matt says. “It starts out really alien and wonderful and strange, and then it just drags on.” “You know your girlfriend is going to read this,” Jodi says. Matt thinks she’ll understand.

Relationship metaphors and eveningwear aside, Matt makes a good point. “The cows are still milking,” he says. “The tofu guy is still making tofu, the chickens are still laying, the soap guy is still making soap, the bread is still being baked. Cellared vegetables are still coming up out of the farms.”

We leave with a big, substantial bag of groceries and go home to make Jodi’s savory bread pudding, day-old bread dripping with cream, sage, parsley, and leek, which keeps us warm all weekend (see recipe below!). Sherman Market will be open all winter, and now we’ll have no trouble finding the place.

–Lucia Jazayeri

Savory Bread Pudding with Fresh Herbs and Leeks

Jodi Malone’s recipe makes use of all the cheapest ingredients from Sherman Market, including day-old bread and fresh herbs. A lifelong saver of scraps, Jodi likes to toss in the rinds and ends of cheese.

1 tablespoon butter

2 leeks, chopped

1 onion, chopped

3 cups whole milk, or 2 cups milk and 1 cup cream

1 cup fresh herbs, like parsley, sage, and thyme, chopped finely

1 large loaf day-old bread, cut into bite-sized pieces

1/2 cup hard cheese, such as Tarantaise (or bits and pieces of any cheese in the fridge), grated

4 eggs

salt and pepper to taste

1. Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. In a saucepan over low heat, cook butter, leeks and onion until soft, about 15 minutes.

2. Add milk and herbs, stir, and cook until just warmed. Remove from heat.

3. Grease a 9×13 glass pan. Place bread pieces and cheese in pan. Add milk mixture, making sure that bread is fully submerged.

4. Lightly beat eggs. Stir them into the pan with the milk and bread.

5. Cook for 30 minutes, until egg and milk mixture has set and bread is golden brown. If desired, place under the broiler for five minutes.

Serves 6.

–Adapted from Jodi Malone and Mark Bittman (How to Cook Everything Vegetarian)