We hit up the market again last Sunday, which is always an
exciting and overwhelming experience. For anyone who loves to cook, it’s like
being a kid in a candy store. The French take fresh food seriously, and market
day is like a religion. Hoards of people swarm and push and wander through as
venders yell, then yell louder. God knows what the hell they are saying, but it
certainly pumps up the enthusiasm. It’s said that most of the time, the French
just go to the market to see what to buy, then figure out what to make later.
The trick, though, is finding those guys who are actually local farmers, not
just some schmo who imports most of his stuff. We finally found a stand touting
a huge homemade sign saying they were from Normandy, and we had to go back
almost a full booth’s length just to get in line. Long line. They must be good.
We stocked up on apples, pears, a cooking pumpkin, potatoes, carrots, and some
lettuce (yes, the items we actually know how to say which can be a limiting
factor at times) then pointed to the leeks.
We keep seeing everyone buy these things, and we’re thinking, what the
heck do you do with those? But hey, if these food savvy locals dig ‘em, then
they must be good, right? We bought the last of their stock, and the girl
laughed at us as she taught us how to say it in French. ‘poireau’. It’s a
tricky one. So for anyone wondering, it’s like a big fragrant green onion, and
god does it smell good. I recently made some potato/leek soup that was to die
for….definitely good comfort food for a cold rainy/snowy day. Give it a try,
let me know what you think.
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