The French Eating Experience, or Why I Haven't Bought Any New Shoes

I can’t believe that I haven’t made a bigger deal out of the food. I know I’ve mentioned it before – the fresh fruit, the quiches, the delicate slices of ham, the little chocolate cakes that can only tackily be described as ‘molten’ – but I don’t think you’ve gotten the whole scrumptious picture. I don’t know if you’ll have the whole picture even after this entry…it is truly je ne sais quoi.

I suppose the market is where it all begins. You’re fresh off the plane, and you’re picking your way along the streets until they suddenly widen out into a larger plaza and you stumble into a market. Aix has maybe three main markets selling everything from tulips to lipstick, but my favorite one has to be the daily market conveniently located two blocks from the apartment. Of course, it’s a food market. I don’t know what time the vans arrive with their produce, but by the time I get there, it’s hot and crowded and full of fantastic things to eat. I tend to stick to the fresh fruits and veg – I’ve gotten two different varieties of cherries, a large and rosy tomato, so many peaches that they’ve started coming out my pores, a collection of strawberries, raspberries, and maybe even a bilberry or two (do they exist?), and on several occasions, I’ve stared longingly at the large bunches of artichokes.

I’ve also bought a lot of dips and spreads. After a horrifying misunderstanding with anchovy paté, I’ve bounced back to sample red pepper spread, olive tapenade, a sundried tomato paste, olive oil, honey, and something mysteriously beige that turned out to be hummus. Isabelle keeps something in the fridge that’s bright pink and made of eggs and fish, but I haven’t amassed the courage to try that. The rest have all gone on fresh bread (olive bread, cheese bread, multigrain, and of course crusty white bread) that by some miracle is still hot when I get to the shops by midmorning. Along with bread and fruit, I’ve found sweet garlic the friendly vendor let me taste, explaining it was cooked and cured and good on salads. I’ve also been searching for the perfect cheese (something along the lines of St. Andre, hopefully), and have purchased a lot of fromage to that end.

One note about paying in the market: French people hate it when you don’t have the right amount of money, even if they do have change. If your total ends up being 4E55 and you only have a 20E note, you’d better start groveling and désolé-ing as you reach for your wallet. Be searching for 55 cents, or at least a nickel. Brace yourself for a sigh of impatience or even an eye roll. If all you’ve got is 50E, forget about it…you’ll have to go to a bank and get change, or try breaking it in a larger store. Small storeowners and café waiters will probably give you the same reaction as the market vendors.

I’d be remiss in this entry if I didn’t mention the wine. The area of France I’m currently staying in is famous for their rosé wines, which have nothing to do with roses or blush wines in the US. They’re very good. Red wines are also a big deal; I was in a restaurant (eating an incredible molten chocolate cake à la mode) when the older couple beside me decided to order an expensive red. The man asked to see the wine list, then got up out of his seat and wandered around the restaurant, peering suspiciously into the wine racks. He then returned to his table and furtively spoke to his wife while making excited jabs with his finger in the direction of one rack. When the waiter came to take his wine order, he asked to see the bottle, and sat it on the table for a minute or two while thoughtfully sipping his aperitif, then finally called the waiter back over and told him to take it away and bring it back in five minutes. The waiter did so, after pouring it ceremoniously into a wide-bottomed decanter. The wine was then ceremoniously poured, swirled, and tasted…and at this point I had to consciously look away, because I had been staring for the past fifteen minutes.

After dinner, if I haven’t had dessert (or if I have…), I usually go to a café and get a grande crème, or a café au lait. It’s served with a little ginger cookie and a small glass of water. I’m not yet sure if you’re supposed to drink the water before, after, or during the whole coffee process. If it’s too hot for coffee, I can try a mint syrup drink and a biscuit or some neat little candies that look like olives, but which are really almonds covered in dark chocolate and colored white chocolate shell.

So…I’m growing long-winded. There’s a lot more out there when it comes to food (I haven't really even started on the genuine cuisine), but hopefully you get the idea. This is why I haven’t gotten any shoes or bags or clothing while I’ve been here…every time I step out the door, I decide I need to try some local dish or stop by my favorite brasserie. However, I hear that July is the month of summer sales, so maybe I’ll be able to have my cake and eat it, too.