Market Day!

Today's loot

There's not much that gives me more joy than shopping for food... unless you count eating it. Today was a total thrill: Un grand marché in walking distance. In fact I'd seen city workers begin setting up booths yesterday morning. Look at this transformation, below.

There were vendors of all kinds: vegetables, fruit, cheese, macarons, crepes, chickens and ducks all plucked and tied up with their feet and long necks coiled neatly around, the "tripier" selling everything from tongue to brains (wow!) to I'm-afraid-to-ask--but only because I don't know how to cook it, all kinds of charcuterie, Moroccan food, 20 kinds of coffee beans, spices, olives, dried fruit, cheap Chinese housewares, silk scarves from India, and fish (the cutest fishmonger kindly posed for the camera :-). I was undecided whether to post a picture of the super-silvery eel (upper right) or the octopus, and I was concerned about you, dear reader, when I decided not to photograph the entrails, pig head/feet, and other interesting delicacies on display. I ended up buying sardines from Brittany for lunch and man, were they tasty! Plus fancy mushrooms, veggies, creme fraiche, beautiful cheeses, sweet little radishes and, of course, another bagette. That's getting to be dangerous.

On my way to market, I stopped to ask an older woman on the street where I could change out a large bill, presuming the market vendors would prefer not to break a 100euro. She took me sweetly under her wing and walked me to the bank which somehow wasn't a bank, if you have a card you can withdraw money from the machines, but the tellers don't actually have any money to make change ("modern and stupid" she called it). Although the attempt was unsuccessful, we had a lovely conversation on the corner--so many French speak English, and well, it's both comforting and a bit shameful (some teenagers walked up to me in the cemetary and asked for money to support a film project; when they heard me blunder they switched immediately, and fluently, to pleading their case in English. How impressive! I thought I got an advanced education, starting foreign language in sixth grade, but it seems pitiful in comparison to what they get.). Anyway, this woman had lived near Los Angeles for several years when her husband taught at Pomona College. She was charming and lively and wished me a beautiful day. What a treat!

I got my change at a Tabac, a tobacco shop, where I bought two more little matchboxes: I'm enchanted by these. It's the most redeeming feature of an otherwise disarmingly prevalent nuisance, which is cigarette smokers everywhere. I am undeniably awed that the French actually managed to outlaw smoking in all restaurants, just a few years ago. That must have taken some serious discussion. Non-food stores almost all smell like smoke. Speaking of, another thing I didn't photograph: The market vendors lighting up and even dangling lit cigarettes from their lips while selling food. And yet I'm pleased to see that when I've bought bread and cheese and even fish, the vendors touch the food. With their hands, not plastic gloves. It reassures me to see them handling the product, I don't know why, maybe I think they'd be willing to eat it themselves.

On a parting note: There is SO MUCH food here, everywhere you turn. In some ways it makes me less frenetic for it; if I pass on this creperie, there'll be 2 more in the next block to consider. Window scenes like this are so common, there's no sense of scarcity or preciousness over these magnificant sweets, let alone le sandwich or le plat du jour. You won't go hungry in this town.

At least, I know I won't!!

 

 

 

 

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