While trying to describe my blog yesterday evening, I found myself at a loss for words and juggling the air with empty hands as if digging for an answer. “Is it about…Provence?” my interlocutor inquired helpfully but still I hesitated and finally coughed out, “Well, not really in a touristy kind of way.” And then there is today’s post. Pretentious goose.
But there is a reason. For while most of you know that I avoid covering our markets here in fear of the cliché plague, when my Mom was asked recently if she there was any particular subject that I should write on, she didn’t hesitate in requesting, “Food.” Who can blame her? She will take the plane just to see my smiling face and to sit at our table. And she is always, always right.
So, this morning, as the sun was shining brightly and I was feeling sprightly 😉 I decided to set aside what I had prepared to publish. Instead, I grabbed my wee Canon G12, hung it around my neck Cartier-Bresson style and blended into the crowds of Arles’ Saturday market, purportedly the largest in all of Provence.
For as long as anyone can remember, this particular experience has been about equal parts flanerie and the products one purchases to pile into le panier.
Of course, all of the usual suspects can be found, such as mountains of glistening olives…
…cheeses of every size shape and date…
…the freshest fruits of the season…
…and treats to make one’s teeth ache…
…such as tarte tatin…
…or a rainbow variety of spongy macarons.
The eggs, whose centers glow warmer than the sun, are bijous unto themselves.
It can be a lot to take in.
But I am always drawn to the surprises, such as this organic stand tended by Raitetsu Jinno who came to Provence a year and a half ago from Japan.
His greens are all edible emeralds but my favorite is the Wasabina, which is indeed the leafy equivalent to its sushi condiment counterpart.
I sail past the pricey fish stands to head directly to the producer from nearby Sete. I love that he has razor-clams, bulots, palourdes, spiky sea-urchins and shrimp fresh off the boat from Madagascar…
…but most that his small oysters from Bouzigues are only 3.80€ the dozen! They are Remi’s weekend treat.
I tend to sample the ginger flavored felafel as I walk but today the line was simply too long. Most were waiting to snatch up freshly fried accras, balls of pureed salt cod and pinky-sized crisps of phyllo-wrapped goat cheese.
There are also puffs or oriental pastries…
…delights created by the North African community present in Arles…
…as well as spices from all around the world such as the mélange du Sorcier or “witches mix.” No, I didn’t buy it. Wait, what do you mean by asking such a question?
I admit that there are days when I am simply not up to face the crowds…
…the jostling and old ladies cutting in front of me in line, their caddies rolling over my toes.
No wonder so many stop to have a coffee with a furry friend…
…or taste a sample of local wines…
…ending up at the Bar du Marché, where if you order a bottle of the house wine for 10€, they will choose to look away if you pull out your market goodies to nibble on.
Once restored, the hunt continues.
I have learned the hard way that whatever amount of money I have on me, that is exactly what I will spend.
Best to get the necessities first…
…or they might not make it home at all.
But there are always plenty of options for when I don’t feel like cooking. My favorite stop (and what we will be eating tonight) is the Vietnamese stand for nems to wrap in lettuce and mint. I skip the pizza and the paella sellers but was tempted by this riz forestier, rice topped with peas, mushrooms and smoked porc.
And of course, there is always roast chicken. It is easy to know whose is the best – just look for the longest line!
But what makes the Arles market so especially interesting is that less than half the vendors are dedicated to food.
The rest sell items that are either traditional to the region…
…steeped in Arles’ own unique heritage…
…or not.
Without fail, I am drawn to two items – the mini-oliviers in their own clay pots…
…and lavender to transform any home into the essence of Provence.
I know how very lucky I have been to have so much of muchness, another spring signifier (although Remi keeps reminding me that officially spring is a week away) well within reach. I know that I will miss being able to stroll there and back with such ease – even if I do draggle home under the weight of having bought far too much!
And so, while I really enjoyed myself, it was also an unusual feeling today, taking in this market, my market, like a tourist. I could see that some of my go-to vendors were looking at my snapping with raised eyebrows. “I have a blog, ” I would explain, with some slight embarrassment. “Oh, really,” they would enquire, “what is it about?”
Have a lovely rest of your weekend everyone.
Oh… spectacular! Treats to make your teethe ache indeed, and the proverbial feast for our eyes and pleasure in your lyrical descriptions.
What is your blog about? Everything worthy of observation and appreciation in your surroundings, infused with your impeccable eye and style.
What a beautiful and yummy post. But your shots make me wish that the snow piled high outside my window would just disappear…NOW!
I could read market blog posts (with gorgeous pics like yours) 1,000 times. I never tire of them. I too struggle with the unruly crowds here in Roma and must force myself to go sometimes. It is always worth it.
We adore these European markets and make a mad dash to them on our travels. I like to pretend that I live in the city where the market occurs and am out doing my weekly shopping. I am envious of locals who meet and then chat and laugh together over coffee. Our summertime 'farmer's markets' just don't hold a candle to these wonderful mazes of merchandise.
Sending it right back, Marsha! Some days I can deal with all of the people but other days it is just too, too much. I need to be more zen about it I suppose… 😉
That is true for some of the sellers at the Saturday market but definitely not for the Wednesday market – which is always cheaper anyway! And it is great to have both because the tourists don't go to the mid-week market really, not even in high season.
One of these days we should meet up for white wine and oysters after your market trip!
And if you can write about anything on your blog then I guess that I shouldn't be so self-conscious on mine… 😉
Happy Sunday to you too – the Mistral is a blowin'!!
Edgar, we have two markets in Arles, all year 'round. The gargantuan Saturday market is what I wrote about here but I often prefer the smaller (although still big) Wednesday market as it is less about the show and the crowds and has just as good products…
Good attitude, Laura! And they treat me like a tourist anyway, so what should I care? 😉 And hey, if I lived in Santa Fe, I would be a snap-happy fool…
I wish that I could teleport you here and out of your rain, Lorrie!