You step out of the drearily grey yet balmy November day into the cavernous anteroom of the Agricultural Hall in West Tisbury, and you’re confronted with that symbol of country comfort: the black cast-iron soup pot. There are two actually: curried butternut squash or kale, brought to us by Morning Glory Farm. This reporter placed a five-buck bet on the butternut, and took the cup into the enormous hall, sat down, spooned up the ambrosial bisque, and reflected that the festivities spread out before her were more delightful than any event that operates here in the summer.

In the high-ceilinged, golden-beamed barn, a three-man band, Kevin Keady and the Cattle Drivers, lent a tuneful buoyancy to the event with a guitar, bass viol and drums. Tables of produce and sundries yielded a variety of fragrances. Something in the air inside the much-loved venue — the music, the foodie foods, and the chance to be tourists — without actual tourists — in our own township, produced beaming faces and a bounce in people’s steps. Scores of little kids gavotted with their own individualized dance moves.

A four year-old boy in bumblebee yellow-and-black-striped plastic boots stood with his mom before Edgartown’s Old Town Gardens’ array of dried pale lavender and blue hydrangeas, arugula, dill and, get this, chocolate mint; yes, you sniff it and you think you’re in a Godiva boutique. Robert Daniels and daughter Lynn also offered orange mint which Island restaurants purchase from Old Town Gardens for mojitos. In addition, the Daniels dad and daughter team displayed 14 species of potato, including boxes of spuds the size of baby’s thumbs. “Good for broiling, then dipping in sour cream,” said Ms. Daniels.

Island Alpaca, its table presided over by Philippe Morin, showcased sweaters, scarves, gloves, hats and spools of beige, brown, black and grey yarn, all of it culled from the company’s own herd of alpacas and commissioned out to a welter of talented knitters, each with his or her name safety-pinned to the item. Mr. Morin is fond of his livestock: “They have a sort of wisdom about them.”

Rusty Gordon of Whippoorwill Farms supervised his table of pumpkins, onions, carrots, turnips and leeks, among many other autumn vegies.

Juli Vanderhoop’s Orange Peel Bakery was overseen in the Ag Hall by Gary Haley, who within the first two hours sold out of most of his offerings, including fruit and seed loaf, wheatberry walnut boule, rosemary and oil bread, and coffee cake. (All the vendors mentioned a much quicker dispersion of their wares than they’d anticipated, leading them to believe that next time they’ll bring twice the quantities.)

Artist and paper maker Sandy Bernat stood behind her table of note cards, stationery, journals, all made in her West Tisbury studio from the cellulose of such materials as cornhusks, cotton fibers, cattails and even dried iris leaves and bird feathers, the full display in its myriad colors and textures unimaginably beautiful.

Chef Robert Lionette of Zephrus demonstrated the preparation of chicken gizzards sliced and marinated in duck fat—– not for the faint of heart, perhaps, but it did look and smell delicious.

Morning Glory Farm, in addition to its butternut squash and kale soup offerings at the front room table, unrolled in the bigger room a cornucopia of produce and its famed jams. One object baffled this reporter’s powers of identification: Set in a large basket on the floor was a pale-moth-colored object the size of a small boulder. Turned out it was something called a blue hubbard squash and it looked like the only way to fit it into an oven would be to get Paul Bunyan to split it with his trusty ax.

Lauren Barbera, owner of Nicky’s Cafe, with assistant Beth Serusa, offered complimentary tastes of their dipping oils: Italian Herb, Nero’s Revenge, Zesty Lemon, and Piccantee!!! (The triple exclamation marks are Nicky’s, not ours.)

Vineyard Herbs, now heading into its fifth year, displayed an array of aromatic and curative oils and creams, including Winter Tea First Aid Ointment, Rosemary’s Blessing, and Ginger Syrup for colds and flu.

Flat Point Farm, run by Emily Fischer and her husband, Doug Brush, displayed a variety of tantalizing goat soaps. “We’ve been doing a record business in wedding favors,” said Ms. Fischer while Mr. Brush held up five-month-old Milo clad in green jammies and a yellow cap imprinted with leaves and cherries.

Kathy Cowley of New Moon Magick has proven herself the most innovative of new chocolatiers on these shores. Her table showcased small chunks called Enchanted Chocolates, bags of buttercrunch, pumpkin fudge, and bottles of Ms. Cowley’s special lavender mist.

Wendy Oliver of Frosty Hollow, near the Featherstone acreage, shared the recent yield from her two greenhouses: at least a dozen different varieties of orchid, starring a white-blossomed phalaenopsis which she discovered at the stand of an Asian florist at the Boston Flower Show.

Kristen MacDonald of the Farm Institute bemoaned the almost complete sell-out of her produce, although she also acknowledged this marked a great and unexpected success.

Pam Glavin of Pam’s Pesto, whose delicious spaghetti flavorings have succored multitudes of Islanders through an infinite number of suppers, explained her original pesto production: “I just kept trying it out on my daughter until she really, really liked it. It took a lot of experimenting to take her from ‘It’s okay’ to ‘Yum!’” After that Ms. Glavin brought her pesto sauce to school dinners, and people recommended she sell it commercially. Now we see the brand in every food market on the Island. She built up her business from her own home kitchen to a professional plant in the airport business district which ships to Whole Foods stores up and down the eastern seaboard.

Deborah Koines of Little Rock Farm had a table of cran-orange nut bread, cookies and coffee while, next door to her, Linda Alley of the well-known New Lane Sundries sold her jellies, jams and mustards. Together Ms. Koines and Ms. Alley organized this first of the off-season emporiums. It’s currently planned as a once-a-month affair, but we overheard more than a few strollers comment that they’d attend every week if the vendors cared to convene that often.

The final rating of the winter farmers’ market: an unqualified success.