The Weekly Provencal Market

                 

                                                Part 3 of a 3 Part Series                                        

Sometime around seven, maybe a little before, they arrive. Depending on the time of the year, it could still be dark. They arrive in all manner of vehicles, each prepared in their own way to open their little “storefront” in today's market.

Some arrive in elaborate mini motor-home like affairs, specially built, the sides open up to expose the wares, often spilling out onto tables placed in front. Others may have a towed trailer, from short and compact to long and skinny. They’re often rather complicated fold-out affairs, ingeniously designed for the purpose with pop-up awnings and umbrellas. Some will arrive in vans, large and small, and set-up a dizzying array of tables, rod and curtain walls, awnings and umbrellas. Some even arrive with their wares in the back of their cars, set-up a little table, an umbrella and spread out their wares.

It’s really quite amazing... the diversity, the ingenuity, the complexity, and the amount of plain old hard work involved in setting-up ones stall. And yet... sometime around 8, maybe 8:30 most of the stalls are ready and the crowds begin to trickle in. (The locals know this as the time to go to the market)

I often imagined that this was a highly corregraphed affair, you know, with a grand plan and someone from the town there to carefully administer it. Nope! Don’t think so. The whole thing really has a bit of a laissez faire approach. Yes, the spaces are numbered and marked. And yes, they’re assigned to the vendors who pay the town for the rental and for any electricity. And yes, the local police block-off or close-down certain streets and redirect the traffic flow, all of which is or rather should be known to those who live or work here. So... I guess in a sense there is something of a grand plan, just sorta ad hoc, if you know what I mean.
This incredible assemblage of over 200 vendors just happens. And... it happens with a minimum of confusion. Everybody gets to their spaces, somehow, sets-up, puts their vehicle away somewhere if necessary, puts-out an enormous amount of merchandise and all in about an hour to an hour and a half. It is one of those things that seems to work in spite of itself , controlled chaos if you will.
And for the next 4 hours or so, the market takes over the town. Like a great serpent “snaking” it’s way along the harbor and into the distance for maybe a quarter of a mile, swallowing the stalls of the daily market in it’s path.
And people, lotsa people. Thousands in fact. Cars and people come pouring into this little village from all directions. Yes, this is a big deal. As I said, for about 4 hours, this market assumes control of the village. The “serpent”, an undulating mass of people milling through the “gauntlet” of stalls.
And, about those stalls. There’s just an unimaginable variety of “stuff” out here for sale. Let me try and describe some of what I can remember:

Foods and produce:

There are many, seemingly too many, produce stalls, large and small, each often with a specialty or touting their freshness, localness or service in an effort to woo the buyers. Some are small local producers, many more are what I deem retailers, buying their produce for resale. In addition to those arriving here weekly, there is the entire daily market crowd as well.
There were some examples of great specialization such as a stall selling only fresh garlic, local figs, honey (2), local apples (2), olives (4-5), olive oil (1), spices (2), local muscat table grapes(1), local vineyards selling their wines (2), vanilla beans (1)
Cheeses- couldn’t say just how many people were selling cheeses, some were local producers, great goat cheeses, some were retailers, musta been at least a dozen.
Several butchers- probably 8 including the daily market crowd. Lotsa specialization here, fresh meats, cured meats, sausages only, Corsican style sausages, even a Bucherie Chevaline (horse meat) quite popular if you judge by his long que.
Baked goods- had to see at least 8-10 stalls selling baked goods. Local rustic style breads, some with cookies or pastries, some regional and a couple selling candies and nuts.
Prepared foods- Two, not one but two stalls selling paella, and not one big 3 foot diameter pan, but three types! One was the traditional seafood and rice, one pulpo (octopus) and one with baby squid. Two vendors were selling rotisserie chickens and roasted meats. I even saw a Chinese take-away truck.

The next biggest category of merchandise would probably be clothing:

Ladie's outerwear- dresses, blouses, swim wear etc, couldn’t say how many, lost count.
Ladie's lingerie- at least 3-4 of these. Saw one lady getting fitting recommendations from the man in the stall.
Men's outerwear- shirts, tee shirts, sports jerseys, pants & shorts, swim wear. I again lost track of how many.
Shoes- I think 2 maybe 3
Hats-1-2
Ladie's scarves 1
Hair piece extensions- yes there was one of these.
Fingernail polish and make-up (2-3)
Ladies jewelry and watches, I saw at least 3-4
Children’s wear- at least 2-3
Sunglasses or reading glasses- at least 3-4

Other “Stuff”:
Leather goods- bags, belts and handbags
Woven market bags (1)
Pet supplies- included beds and outfits (1)
Original painters and prints (4-6)
Pottery- (3) local and mass produced
Mattresses- yes, mattresses, two of them
Knives, pots & pans, kitchen supplies (3)
Toys (2)
Pruning shears (1) sold nothing else.
Home decor- tablecloths, linens (2-3)
Fabric and sewing supplies- (2-3)
Artisanal soaps (2)
Flowers (3)
And, what I call people demonstrating kitchen widgets and people demo-ing cookware, choppers, Remember it slices, it dices, etc., well it was here along with demos of cleaning products and micro fiber cloths.
Oh, and I almost forgot, a stall selling vinyl windows.

And, bring cash, most don’t take plastic.
As I’m sure you can now imagine, it’s all really a bit overwhelming. There’s just so much stuff!
In addition, there were a couple of wandering minstrels in medieval garb playing music for tips.
And... people and more people. It can get a little dizzying. Sometimes you just have to pop-out to an alley or side street to catch your breath. The locals know, come early. And to avoid the crowds and get around the congestion, use these alleys and back streets. I’m learning.
And.... around lunch time, the crowds begin to thin, and the cafes and restaurants begin to fill. You begin to notice the sellers, packing away their wares, disassembling their stalls, the morning in reverse.

About one, maybe two o’clock, they’re largely gone. The people, the cars also largely gone. The streets, the traffic returns to normal. The town’s sanitation crews have moved into clear the detritus of the market. By 3 maybe 4, normal life has returned to the village. No sign that this big unruly “serpent” was ever here.

 

The promenade

                                                

The promenade with the weekly Provencal Market 

                            

                                         
 

Ladies dresses



Paella, will that be regular, octopus or baby squid?



A rainbow of shoes

It slices, it dices, I'll even bet it makes juliene frites

I've seen this guy laying on one of these before

Get your horse meat here



These guys were great, added a certain ambiance to the market 



A honey stall

This ladies pottery was just beautiful

These are the best grapes I've ever eaten!

Let's make pomme au four, baked apples

Hey,  a French woman can't have too many scarves

And you just gotta have a market bag, now don't ya?












                                

Introducing The Provencal Market & A "Peculiar Obsession" with A Tower

                                               Part 2 of a 3 Part Series

                                       Introducing The Provencal Market


I have vicariously known of Provencal Markets long before experiencing the real thing first hand, having read numerous accounts in various travel guides, journals and photo essays about them. The uniqueness of these markets cannot be overstated. In my life I’ve never experienced anything quite like them in the “states” .
Part farmers market, flea market, “Fuller Brush man”, 19th century peddlers wagon, the butter ‘n egg man, the milk man, Gypsy peddlers, Jewish “rag-man”, all wrapped in the atmosphere of an old-fashioned county fair. Really.... this description doesn’t begin to do it justice.
It is an act of living history. Just as they have done for generations, dozens, in some cases, hundreds of nomadic merchants and artisans set-up their stalls in their assigned spaces in the market squares and streets of the towns and villages all over Southern France. On the designated day, every week, every month, every year, they appear at dawn, set-up their stalls, sell their wares, and, a little after lunch tear down their stalls and pack them into an incredible diversity of vehicles, only to move on to the next town and repeat the whole process the following day.
To be repeated over and over and.....
It’s incredible! I mean here it’s 2012 and this is all still going on. With malls, hyper marts, grocery stores, department stores, all accessible to most people with a minimum of effort, and still it continues.
Why, I can just about imagine in my mind the wagons, the carts, the sellers and buyers all in peasant costume.
Remarkable!!!
I have since experienced many such markets all over the South of France. Each one, similar of course, but unique in it’s own way. From the beautiful little ochre red hilltop village of Roussilon and it’s modest weekly market to Cote d Rhone town of Viason la Romaine and it’s huge granddaddy of all Provencal Markets.
Every time it’s exciting, my pulse actually quickens a bit upon arrival. A bit deja vu, perhaps, the memories... a young child... late summer... a visit to the county fair. It’s there!
But.......




                                             A “Peculiar Obsession” With a Tower


Central to the telling of this story is a tower, or rather La Tour (the tower). It is a ancient defensive stone structure of Roman origins, enhanced throughout the Middle Ages, that lords over the harbor to this very day. Second only to the Church tower as the most recognizable feature on the harbor landscape, it was in the late 19th century, incorporated into the body of the Hotel-restaurant La Tour, an excellent family-owned establishment, which was our home for a brief time during our first visit here back in 2006.
The tower is open to visitors daily, with interesting historical displays on each level which you ascend via a trying, if not a little claustrophobic assortment of spiral staircases and ships’ ladders. Once you craw (literally) through the final narrow “tunnel” via a steep ships’ ladder, you emerge at the top with what is unarguably 360 degrees of the finest view in the village.
Now here’s where it get’s interesting (or not, depending on your point of view). I have for years been intrigued with the thought of doing a photo-essay on the weekly Provencal Market. My efforts, however, have been repeatedly thwarted by the very qualities which make it so unique. Because of the compact nature of the location, the “snaking” nature of the layout, the congestion of the stalls and the throngs of shoppers milling among them, it is virtually impossible to photograph the market. That is to give a sense of it’s entirety, it’s character. You simply can’t see the forest for the trees!
But... the tower, or rather, La Tour. Now there’d be a wonderful opportunity to view the market, the whole affair, from above.
Brilliant!!
Except... open daily to visitors, except Wednesday (market day). It is not open until after 1:00 pm, by which time the whole thing’s packed-up and gone.
Damn!!
Surely there are exceptions. For the past several years I have checked on every market day, nope! I have even checked with the Hotel La Tour, nope! I have occasionally seen a maintenance person on site during the market, nope! (I even considered bribing one, but never got that far)
Always..... thwarted!!
Café time. For Sandy and I it is a cherished part of the “French Experience” here in this little village. Just a few days ago, during one such “cherished moment”, we found ourselves in our favorite café, ridiculously tiny tables and chairs, crowded cheek-to-jowl with the neighboring tiny table and chairs, (it is the tradition) a carafe of rose, warm sun, blue skies and that “Impressionist Masterpiece” harbor view spread out before us. It was, the quintessential “French moment”.
Now on this particular afternoon, we were blessed with the charming company of a friend of ours, a lovely French woman whom we had met a couple of years back. She is, as the French would say “tres sympa” (very nice). She has lived in this village for nearly 30 years, and, has lived in the “states” for a portion of her life as well. Fortunate for us, because her English is impeccable and her understanding of our culture is, well, remarkable. We feel quite honored to be welcomed into her company. She is for us, in addition to being truly “tres sympa”, a wonderful bridge between our culture and that which is here. She’s wonderfully adept at “translating” that “similar but different” that I have written about previously.
Today she has overheard my protestations concerning La Tour, it’s closure during the weekly market, and my almost obsessive desire to go atop it during the market so that I might be able to photograph it. She was surprised to learn that it was closed, believing that she had in fact observed people atop La Tour on market days. Huumm?
Probably thinking me a little weird, she seemed to quitely mull the thought.
Sandy and I continued to enjoy our “French Moment” with a second carafe of rose. I noticed our friend conversing with a gentleman at the table behind her, in French of course. Nothing peculiar about this, our friend seems to know nearly everybody here in the village and they her. Through my poor French I can just get the gist, the conversation involves us, or rather me and my “peculiar obsession” to go to the top of La Tour on market day. Telephone call made by her friend, in French of course, and a few minutes later.....
Next Wednesday, be at the gated entrance to the tower. A man will meet you there. He’ll let you in.
Voila!! It was done! Her friend had been an official at the Marie (city hall). She had pulled some strings
and..... what a dear!
And so.... that next Wednesday, 10 o’clock, you better believe I was there, Sandy too. The man was there, and yes, he too knew of my “peculiar obsession”. Our friend was there to meet us. I was smiling from ear-to-ear. She could tell that Kevin was happy.
How do you thank someone for a gesture such as this? Well.... Sandy did a bit of fishing... and... seems our friend was quite fond of macaroons ( little egg white cookies filled with various luscious cremes) and... we happened to know from our landlords of an excellent macaronier from Paris who had settled in the adjacent town. So... the previous day, hop on the velos (bicycles) and off to “Macaron Foliles” www.macaronfolies.fr . Little white box, macaroons inside, wrapped with a bow in true French style... thank you so much. Graciously accepted and I’m willing to bet well enjoyed.
Now... the previous Wednesday, market day, had been beautiful with blue skies, and the one before and... the one before. But, today... it was just not to be. Generally overcast, a hint of sunshine occasionally popping through, rain threatening to arrive at any moment.
Hey, beggars can’t be choosers. Gotta make the best of this and realize my “peculiar obsession”. So...
I ascend the trying if not a little claustrophobic assortment of spiral staircases and ships’ ladders, and...
Voila! I’m on top. Wow! 360 degrees of view, a bit grey perhaps, but wow. There it is. The market below, winding serpent-like through the streets for as far as I can see.
Awesome!!!
Admire, line up several well (hopefully) composed shots and leave the rest to Photoshop. Got it!!

Now... about that Provencal Market...

A view of La Tour (the tower)

Realizing my "peculiar obsession" 

One of two on the way up

This is a tight fit! Almost to the top.

Yeeesss! I knew this would work!

                                                  Special thanks to mdme. G



                                Next Part 3 of 3 The Weekly Provencal Market

1er, First Market Day

First market day and Sandy describes me as a bloodhound on the trail as I plow eagerly through our daily market. The sights, smells and sounds are pure bliss to me and I know now that I can gather it all up, take it home and cook it up and I will eat like a prince!
Oh the "joie d' vivre", I've walked the entire affair, reviewed my options, sniffed-not touched, bad manners that, well ok, maybe I did sneak a feel or two.
The market vendors who return here daily, they are passionate about their bounty, they recognize their "regulars", me included, I am a curosity as well. There is the social "transaction" that must occour before the financial and it is not to be rushed. My failings with the language, shame on me, do not seem to deter this tradition, for we speak with the common language of beautiful, good, fresh local food.
What could be more elemental?
OK, now, let's see, for the salade, luscious carrotte- fresh with green tops, a little earth still clinging (they love that touch here, me too), radis- long tubular pink and crisp, also with fresh green tops and dirt, poivre rouge like enormous red lanterns, the concombre- long thin and crisp, what we call English, the tomate and heirloom variety (not here) called couer de boeuf (beefsteak) I could smell them even before I picked them up, and of course the salade- whole floppy heads of leaf lettuce, various shades of green meant to be eaten ajourdui (today). Salade complete!
Ahhh' the cavillion melons are here and that perfume, you just know this little beauty is going to be great. A box of fraises (strawberries) from nearby Carpentras, red thru and thru, must be eaten promptly- hope they make it to breakfast, yuuummm!
And of course the olives! A vendor for that too- olives & spices- the ladies are so sweet. Picholine avec fenuille (local green in EVO with fennel seed/stems) Sandy's
favorite and for me the little nutty black Niceoise in EVO with herbes d' provence.
Cest tutto? No madame, le pinons (pine nuts),and non chinoise (chinese), she looks at me , no monseiur, only francais! Oui madame, 100 grammes sil vous plait.
Some cheese, bien sur! (of course) got two fromagers here today and the specialte d' jour, Gruyere d' Savoie, French and at 25e/kg not cheap, but can't resist, 250 g sil vous plait.
Finally on my blitz thru - couldn't miss the big locally caught crevettes (shrimp)
pink, bright with only a hint of the smell of the sea. Sauteed in EVO/butter and garlic, tonight's dinner! Une demi killo sil vous plait, 24 big plump shrimps counted out before my eyes, .489 kilos @ 5e, 60 you betcha. Whoops, back for some of those little fingerling potatoes, encrusted in earth, the smell fantastic, I'll sautee them with the crevettes. Oh yeaah!
Oops, forgot aoil (garlic) pink and rosy and I'll pick up one of the ubiquitous potted basil plants, it's the size of a small shrub, better transplant to bigger pot when I get home. Sandy looks at it, smiles and sees her favorite, salade caprese.
Can't carry much more, our Harris-Tetter cloth bags heavy with bounty, but wait, must stop by our boulanger (bakery,there are 5 in the village) for a fresh baguette on the way home.
Sandy says, stop, we 've got to go home, we can't carry any more! I have to agree.
God, I love this place!!
Back at the house- unpack all of this glorious fresh food and stow it away.
12h and all the shops are closing, time for the 2 hour lunch, how civilized is that.
First, however, 2 Pastis, 51 of course, and some of those anticipated olives out on the patio- now this is how to start a two hour lunch! Slices of that warm baguette dipped into the olive "broth"- oh God! Sufficently lubricated, time to prep the just sourced salade. Chopping, chopping and more chopping- finely- brought my own knives for this-build the salade layer by layer- top with tuna in oil from the initial grocery run- some toasted pine nuts and vinagrette. More sliced baguette, EVO from the market in Bormes les Mimosas yesterday and oh yes,, a cold Stella Artois. Lunch done perfect! AAhh, snooze by the pool with a glass of rose d' St Tropez, yes, this is the life! Slippin' deep into the blue now!
Tan, if not a little red, fresh and ready for a visit to "the cafe", deux Pastis sil vous plait. Staff always remembers us from year to year and we them, fondly. "My chair" is still there, best view in the whole harbor and still the best pours. Questions/ Cest va? Cest va bien- everyone's well. Do you like futbol? Yeah I guess I do. We gotta get you a Marseille t shirt- I'm actually anticipating that, a few folks back home will really "appreciate" it.
Did I say, God I love this place!!
Back at the maison, a cold Stella to wash down the arduous 5min. trek up the hill. Thoughts turn to dinner, dix neuf, 19h, 7pm. The locals eat a little earlier here. About those crevettes. Chop off the heads, they weird Sandy out- set aside. Slice the petite fingerlings toss into a pan of quivering EVO, sautee until gold, add a little sliced garlic, shallotes & herbes d' provence, finish with a generous pat of buerre. The smell is rapturous! OK, toss in the crevettes, bit more buerre and seasonings, et viola! Yep ther'e ready. Add baguette picked up on that arduous if not a little wobbly trek up hill, some of that EVO, a simple salade verte with a chopped cour de beouf and vinagrette, simply delicious.
Yes!!
This is what i've been waiting for. Pure joy!!
More of that rose, AAAAAHHHHHHH!
But wait!, there's more! Remember the little cavallion melon- I do. Thinnly sliced, aromatic as hell, it's gone.
Not quite bedtime, wander back down the hill to the port and "the cafe" for deux expresso, sil vous plait. Two petite little cups of mud, but taste like the most awesome coffee you've ever had. It taste glorious, the harbor lights, the lights streched out along the bay, yeeesss!
have I said, God!!! I love this place!!!
And the blue now washes over me!
A biento
Cousin