Saturday Markets

Late in my second week I discovered that I was just 'expected' to be available on Saturday morning to help look after Little J while Mr and Mrs completed their errands for a few hours. Afterall, they said without a trace of irony, Saturday morning is the first chance all week we have to go grocery shopping, drop by the bank and do a million tiny things that we didn't have time for during the week. No shit? Had it occurred to them that when they're at work, I'M AT WORK??!! Why don't they do what normal people do and either take turns at the errands or take baby with them??

Anyway, Saturday morning I arrived at 10am for my once/twice monthly 'coup de main' (more like a favour than strictly speaking part of the job). Mr, Little J, his stroller and their grocery cart (think of a nanna-trolley) and I headed off to pick up fresh bread, fish, fruit and vege, cheese and wine. I very quickly took charge of the shopping caddy, leaving Mr to deal with the wonky stroller (unless you're using two hands it constantly veers to the left. I think of it as working out my core strength muscles everytime Little J and I take a stroll.) He offered me the choice and I quite honestly said I'd prefer the caddy just to mix things up a little.

I find food markets an incredibly exciting experience. There's so much POTENTIAL at a market, all those meals that could be....

The poissonerie was definitely a highlight. So much gorgeous, glistening fresh seafood to choose from. And not just the range I see in Melbourne either, random things like what I think is abalone (in spikey cases?) and live crabs and shells with fish in them that I didn't even know you could eat. The smell of a well-kept fish shop is a wonderful thing. I feel healthy just being in there!

The green-grocer was interesting, with one or two things I hadn't seen before, such as funny-shaped tomatoes or things I don't see very often like epinards. I also noted that their little pineapples were selling for 6e a pop. Twelve dollars for a PINEAPPLE!! And 1e per kiwifruit. Good to remember sometimes how lucky I am that some of my favourite fruits are cheap in Aus.
(Below: Their punnets of berries here are too cute- love the little baskets. Below Right: prices are hung from little boards above the fruit. Bottom left: a general feel for the shop. It's quite narrow, often people don't even go in the shop assistants hear what you want and bring it all to you. Bottom right: the strange tomato, I think called a Spanish tomato.)

Mr has known the fishmongers and the grocer for 10 years, and went out of his way to introduce me to them all so that if I came by to pick up some things for the family, I would be looked after (and it would just be placed on his account.) A relationship like that would be impossible for me to cultivate in just 12 months on my own. I would still be considered a stranger otherwise, even if I went every week. As Mr said, it means that they won't give me dodgy produce. Heartening, isn't it?

The cheese shop was fascinating, but not as personally exciting. I don't know my cheese very well, and it's one of those things I really like having a couple of my key cheese-friends around to let me know what's what. I can't handle anything too mouldy, and sheep's cheese is a complete and utter no-no. Blargh!

One of the perks of the Saturday coup de main is that I got to stick around for the yummy homecooked lunch, which was french pan seared prawns (a little too fresh- they were alive when he bought them and he didn't put them in the freezer first to put them to sleep before frying them. Sob) followed by boiled fish (this sounds really strange to me, but it tastes just like steamed fish) and rice with hollondaise sauce, followed by a selection of cheeses with baguette stick (about 6 cheeses to choose from.) The lack of vegetables in French cuisine would likely annoy me more, except that I can go home at the end of each day and eat heaps for dinner.