Although I have been lucky enough to be acquainted with French markets since I was a wee lil babie, today I fell in love with le marché all over again.
Every Sunday morning, while nearby supermarkets close their doors, Place Monge opens up with an abundance of fruits, meats, veggies, seafoodies, cheese, leafy plants, discount clothing, and make-you-want-to-keel-over-and-die-of-happiness specialty ethnic dishes.
As you turn the corner, the smells of this place climb into your body and take over. Walking up and down the lanes of culinary delight takes you to a temporary place of ecstasy. Actually going up to the vendors is slightly intimidating, especially when you fumble with your veggie vocab -- today I went up and asked for "zucchini" in a french accent, instead of courgette, fail -- but, happy to share their treasure with the people, they greet you with des grands sourires.
Now I'm off to bite into my shiny grapefruit, bake my Brussels sprouts, and chop my basil... ha, or watch my chef-extraordinaire Isa do it.
No comments:
Post a Comment