market fever

Ok, this post is for all of you who have lamented the lack of photos on this blog. And really, I do apologize again and again, but if you had any idea how much it rains here you would understand. But enough of that. Enjoy, but believe me--it's a lot better in person.

The above vendor is selling honey of all colors and all types--everything from wildflower honey to lavender honey, and even bee pollen for the health-foodies.


"La tendresse du jour" is a very French way of saying "this is what's good today." Literally, it means something like "today's tenderness." I love the French. The sign is advertising cheeses.

Need I tell you the cheese is my favorite part? And the most difficult to decide on? Imagine putting a small child in a candy shop--candy floor to ceiling, wall to wall--and telling him to pick one thing. That is my predicament. Have pity.

My favorite cheese vendor. He doesn't sell cheeses that he makes himself, but they are all cheeses from France. Nonetheless, he is always cheerful, singing, talking, dancing...I get the impression he really loves what he does.

Now this is another cheesemaker who definetely makes his own. This is the stand I buy my raw milk from. Today I also purchased some natural yogurt, which I'm antsy to try.

Bread. The bread here is unbelievable. All of it. Even second rate bread is good here. And absurdly cheap. I bought a loaf of the bread you see below.

This was the delight of my market journey this morning. There was a cider-making demonstration and tasting. Cider is a famous product of this area, and there are all kinds--sweeter, drier, lighter, richer...And it's not the cider that we have so much of in the states. Not at all cloyingly sweet, it's slightly alcoholic (though nowhere near wine) and effervescent. Traditionally, it is drunk with crepes, which they were conventiently selling for .80. Need I tell you that I had one?

Here's the press. The older man looking at me was incredibly friendly. He invited me over to look inside the press and made sure I tasted the cider before I left.

My market bounty this morning: cheese (morbier), yogurt, milk, a bottle of local cabernet, eggs, bananas, blood oranges, bison sausage, dried dates, an avocado, and a loaf of bread. Not to mention the croissant aux amandes (croissant studded with slivered almonds and dusted with powdered sugar) and crepe au confiture de framboise (crepe with raspberry preserves) I had for breakfast. And all for 20 euros. I feel like a queen.

Romanesco!

It looks like something from another planet (or me when I wake up in the morning), but really it's just a less-humble cauliflower called a romanecso. A market find. I've been looking for one of these for years and had to come to France to find one. This is in lieu of cheese photos. I didn't take my camera to market this past week because it was raining too much. But there will be many, many more photos to come, and you'll get sick of looking at cheese.

il pleure dans mon coeur...

And on the first day, it rained. And on the second day, it rained. And on the third day...

I wish I could send a little of this rain back home. I've nearly forgotten what drought looks like.

You'll forgive me if I talk about the marché again, won't you? I'm certain it will become one of my favorite things in France. Yesterday it was rainy (as usual) when I woke up, so I was very disappointed because I had been looking forward to going to the market. I got up and took my time over a leisurely breakfast of a palmier from the bakery next door. All that butter and flaky pastry dough compensated for a little of the disappointment. But then, after breakfast, I started feeling hopelessly antsy. I think I have market ingrained in my mind after months of marketing, rain or shine, earthquake or flood, fire or brimstone. The market demon might come get me if I miss one. So I collected my raincoat, umbrella, and waterproof shoes and headed to market anyway. And, as if my voyage out were sanctioned by a higher power, the rain let up and then ceased altogether. Unfortunately, I didn't take my camera for fear of it getting wet, but there will be plenty of time for market photos.

I'm certainly glad I trekked to market yesterday, for I found something I had hoped to find: raw milk. Yes my dears, the thought of being able to buy raw milk with impunity was in the back of my mind for months before departing for France. Now that I've become accustomed to drinking raw milk, I knew that I would have to find some somewhere, and the French did not let me down, oh no. I procured a litre of raw, organic, locally and artisanally produced milk yesterday from a small farmer who also sold all manner of amazing dairy products like crème fraîche, butter, and mild, unaged cheeses. And let me tell you, the flavor of this milk is absolutely unsurpassed. Many people tell me that they don't like goat's milk because it has a certain flavor to it. Sometimes people call it a goaty flavor or just a strong flavor. After tasting this milk my hypothesis is that after drinking ultra-pasteurized, and thus flavorless, milk for years upon years, the national palate has become accustomed to flavorless milk. So when people encounter raw milk or even fresh, gently-pasteurized milk, the flavor throws them off. This milk, although it was cow's milk, had a flavor unlike any milk I have tasted before. Rich, buttery, even slightly grassy, this milk was absolutely amazing. Flavor of this kind cannot be purchased from the grocery store.

In other news, I also found the cheeses to my liking yesterday. Particularly the roquefort and mimolette, which I couldn't pass by without buying a petit morceau (a little piece). The thing that thrills me about the cheese vendors at market here is that they're piled high with cheese and this cheese stinks. I mean, it reeks. It takes me right back to the cheese kitchen at Spinning Spider. That strong, musky, piquant scent that sort of tickles your sinuses is indicative of real, honest cheese. Most vendors don't have samples out, but I can take one look at these cheeses and ascertain that they are fabulous. Cheese nerds know exactly what I'm talking about. By smell and sight you can usually find the fromage of your dreams. I think I'm also a little biased against samples because we fool with them so much in the states, and I know many people (yes, I am talking to you) who take their fill of samples from the cheese plate and seldom buy anything. I'm sure that if I had asked, the cheesemonger would have given me a little piece to taste, but I really didn't think that necessary. And my intuition was spot-on.

Oh, there were plenty of things to drool over yesterday, even if it was rainy. And the crowds were less pressing too. Here's to all the hardcore market-goers out there. Salut!