Ok, I am already on day 16 of my 44 day stint in France and although this is my first real post (due to reasons explained earlier), I promise to look up the accounts in my diary and write as much as I can whilst I try and keep up my daily posts. Here we go.
It has been a rather dull and rainy day - first since I've been here and hopefully the last. Staying indoors in this beautiful city is a criminal offence. So come rain or come storm I had to venture out (foolishly forgetting my umbrella) to shop for fresh produce at Marché Bastille - a street market and a buyers paradise. Situated on Boulevard Richard Lenoir in the 11th arrondissement, every Thursday and Sunday, this space is transformed into an experience of different smells, colours and flavours.
Walking down this crowded market in the rains reminded me of when I used to accompany my mother to our local vegetable market back home in India. She would have to pull me by the hand and drag me in because I almost always wanted to run away even before stepping in. The covered market had a peculiar smell - the blend of the onions with the garlic and the lemons with the coriander. The vendors all screaming to get your attention to buy from them - it was all a bit much for my eardrums. As a girl, I detested the thought of ever having to cook with these ingredients but as they say wisdom comes with age, I have grown to love it. I crave that smell of fresh produce and miss the lack of it in London. The coriander doesn't smell the same and to my disappointment they don't even taste like the ones in India. My mother on the other hand has now switched to supermarkets and her trips to the local mandi are now next to never.
Back to Bastille then, with over a hundred stalls lined up in 4 rows, one truly needs another pair of eyes to see it all. The contents vary from vendors selling Olives, to handicrafts from the African continent. I even managed to find some decent pairs of socks (only I could go shopping for vegetables and end up with socks in my bag). The point of the matter is that there is something for everyone here. As you wander in this bazaar of vegetable vendors and crepe-sellers it's hard to miss that there is some very refined and expensive butchers. Word is that fancy restaurants in the area get their meat from here.
I had all the time in the world to wander around but thanks to my leisurely arrival, I could only witness little. As I strolled down the aisles with my bags of tomatoes and courgettes, what grabbed my attention was the different ethnicities and their various selling techniques. The French being French were calm and patient with their customers but the French (not originally French) i.e. the French Turks, Indians, Arabs (you get the picture) try so hard to sell - being load and shouty is their thing.
Price compare: Don't be fooled into thinking the street market is cheaper than the butchers or vendors around the corner from you. Be price aware - you might not always walk away with a cheap deal but at least your paying for quality and freshness.
It's a happy and inspiring place to visit and if anything, it motivates you to go back home and cook away with the fresh produce you've bought. The smells and colours encourage you to experiment with ingredients and flavours.
With the rain pouring down, there was only one place for me and my bags of veg to go. Oh and my socks of course :)
No comments:
Post a Comment