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In France, we are lucky to have beautiful markets full of vegetables
and fruits, meats, poultry, and fish, artisan sausages and cheese, fresh
eggs, jams, jellies, and honey not to mention butter full of crusty
salt that is cut from huge rounds. French butter is spreadable gold on
still warm baguette, which you can sometimes be lucky enough to find at
the markets as well. Oh, woe are our waist lines with such bounty.
There is so much more, and if you've ever been to France, it is
likely that you've filled bags with these goodies and carried some of
them home. Tapenades, terrines, a hearty cassoulet in a big jar, sweet
lavender soaps, Herbes de Provence, caramels, chocolates, and salt.
These markets are a part of French heritage and culture that the
French are quite proud of--and everyone who visits absolutely adores.
Open-air markets seem closer to the Earth than a huge Costco or Sam's
Club. It is experiential shopping, especially buying food from the
farmers or winemakers who produce it themselves. The personal touch
always makes a difference no matter what individualized communication or
business transaction is occurring.
Our need to connect to others as well as tapping into deep, primal parts of ourselves is a potent component of the culture surrounding planning,
shopping, cooking, and serving a simple or grand meal to share with
family or friends. We break bread with others, therefore we are.
In my neighborhood--the 20th Arrondissement--we have a huge and
marvelous market with what seems like a mile of fine foods. It is le Marché Belgrand, and it runs along the Square Edouard Vaillant by the hospital where Edith Piaf was born, and turns onto the rue Belgrand and continues until the Place Edith Piaf.
In this last embrace of summer, here are a few photos...
