Périgord Market Day

 

Lettuces October 29

Market Day

It's Saturday here in the village, which means one thing for pretty much everyone - time to hit the market!  We are fortunate to own the coveted Saturday slot which means our market bustles even in the quiet off season.  The rich Dordogne soil and temperate climate also means that even now, in the very last days of October, beautiful lettuces and tomatoes and even peppers and cucumbers grown locally and regionally are still in abundance, for a fraction of the price we're used to paying for such luxuries in the PNW.

Our market here in the village is held year-round in and around a 600 year old Halle.  It is the center of the hilltop village and long ago was not only a place of commerce but punishment, as thieves and other petty criminals were held in shackles for up to 3 days to endure public humiliation for their transgression.  Today it boasts farmers and vendors offering up olives, cured meats, small batch breads, fresh fish - even "the mattress guy."  10 seconds of today's market:

While I learned in my decades of professional work with farmers market associations and farmers, and neighborhood activists that one of the things almost anyone in any given community will fall madly in love with is a thriving farmers market, here in France folks love their market not just because it's lively and a great place to bump into friends and, obviously, support local farmers, but because it's economical too.  

The folks in the Dordogne are savvy consumers.  Shopping at the Saturday market keeps Euros in their pockets in addition to fresh tomatoes in their larder.  Come the colder weather,  much of the produce may come from Portugal or Spain, but the prices will hold and the flavors will still delight.  France's policies work to ensure that people can make a living working a small local farm and that includes ensuring that eaters can afford their wares.

Another basketful of deliciousness

We have had an official "cheap food policy" in the US since the 1950s.  But, it doesn't seem to be working.

I bump into the friends who are hosting dinner tonight.  I pause at the local brocanté to see if Claude has gotten a soup pot in by any chance, and then haul my 7 lbs of tomatoes (the soup in question) plus sundry other consumables down the cobblestone street and up the stairs.  

Nice morning.