I have a notebook where I jot down ideas of things that I want to share about living in France. One of those ideas has been staring back at me for a while: the markets. The markets are part of France’s folklore with abundant quality and a wide spectrum of colors; they are everything “French” tourists look for in their visit. Thanks to their vibrant atmosphere filled with lively colors, they turn the mundane task of shopping into a memorable morning adventure. But, the truth is, it’s been a long time since I’ve been to a market, and according to friends, even longer since a true market like that has existed in our area.
First, let me address why I don’t go to the market. The biggest reason is our garden. It’s huge, and why it does not produce our annual consumption of vegetables, it does provide for us handsomely. By November, our freeze is full of vegetables that we have not been able to eat fresh. Next, if I want apples, there are several different wild apples trees that produce amazing fruit in the fall. Walnuts, chestnuts, blackberries, and pears also grow wild within minutes from my front door. Three crates of wonderfully ripe peaches arrived this week from a friend, and if I feel like cherries, I just harvest them in early June. I forgot to mention that I get overrun with figs in late September. No, we don’t have all of what we need at our fingertips, but I’m not going to find any better going to local market for these products.
The few times I have been to the market, I generally see what I find at the grocery store, I just get bumped and jostled more and it’s a bit louder. In France, the origins of all produce needs to be labeled, so the peppers from Spain in the market most likely came from the same producer as the one in the grocery store. There is just a price difference. I must note, however, I have seen one exception to this and I had no doubt the green peppers I bought came from the saleswoman’s garden because their small twisted shapes resembled the ones we grow. And, particularly in the summer, the markets are overrun with tourists. Yes, the region in which I live thrills on this business, so I’m not knocking it, but there are many dishonest salespeople who profit from the image of the French market, jack up their prices when an accent is heard, or don’t sell the real deal. If I want fruit that I cannot get on my own, I go to a local fruit stand where I am known. I might be known as being an American, but I am also known as a good customer and year around resident.
Here, I must acknowledge that there are numerous honest and wholesome producers. There are many products that cannot be found anywhere else than the market and those people should be noted; real producers do exist. I just think they are few and far between at our local market, and I think that is because of the crowd the market is catering to.
Our friends, Monsieur and Madame Gousse, used to buy at the local market all the time, but they’ve stopped for this reason. They welcome the tourist to the region, but they do not welcome those who are taking advantage of them by selling store bought fruit and passing it off as homegrown. These people are ruining the image of the market. In the past, the markets emphasized local products and the salespeople where ones who cultivated a relationship with the clientele. I’ve seen bagged carrots under a salesperson’s stand who got upset when his bluff was called as not being from his garden. Truth be told, knock off clothes are the most common item. Don’t get me wrong, there are some amazing markets in the region, but they are more specialized and don’t run year around. (I’m impatiently waiting for the return of the goat cheese market.) Markets in the region can be good, but I think they need to be addressed with a word of caution as to what is really being sold. Is it the product or the image?
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