The People of the Market

On the surface of it, a market is a place of base exchange. Money and goods change hands, apples get put in bags, coins are rung up in a till. Stalls open and close like the sun rises and sets. Producers deliver fresh and rubbish collectors take away rotten. Not everything gets sold and no-one is making millions. To a fly on the market wall, all that happens here is essentially routine, groundhog day.

But as I said, that is on the surface what it appears like. Under the guise of buy and sell, subtleties exist. Much is going on in the minds of the players in this drama. Much can be interpreted from their behaviour about what the market means to them.

A chorus of regular shoppers walk up and down with direction and a shopping list. Seemingly ever-present, they come prepared with baskets and re-usable bags, a mind sharp with memorized prices and family recipes, seriously ready for transactions and all that they entail. Disagreements about price, weight or the ripeness of the last purchase could strain the relationship with the vendor or, conversely, successful kitchen episodes could be communicated for future reference. Cordial and business-like, these shoppers are in the majority. They stream through the market in ebbs and flows, exiting laden and intent on the next phase in their day, the unpacking and organising of the purchases in larder, fridge, freezer, fruit bowl and the inevitable rattling of pots and pans.

Then there are the vendors, major characters of good and evil, conflicted and capable of heinous acts though rarely do they carry them out. If one more customer touches my plums, they say, I'm going to beat them upside of the head with my weighing plate. There are many threats like this, mostly said in the head. On the outside, jolly smiles and endless banter greet and serve. On the inside is Basil Fawlty, on the verge.

Complex, they have a soft side, too. This is normally reserved for their produce. It is common knowledge that enthusiastic gardeners talk to their plants, believing it will make them grow. I have no evidence that greengrocers or fishmongers do the same but I have seen intimacy between man (and woman) and fruit. An exhalation of breath and a deft rub with a cloth on an apple. The tender unwrapping of custard apple or mango from paper, a twist in the hand to check for bruises or lacerations.

The fishmonger loves his fish enough to exhibit them as installations, laying in formation with parsley tendrils artfully placed about. The striving for symmetry in the display of fruit, vegetables or fish or the juxtaposition of colour is thoughtful merchandising. To the purple eggplant he says, you look good next to those raw green olives.

And it is this thinking that connects with another type found in markets; those with more than a transaction in mind, more than their next meal in mind...in fact they may have more like their next month's meals somewhat in mind. Easily identified, these people want pictures of the produce...from several angles. They ask curly questions and may scribble down notes. They wax lyrical...about brocolli or artichokes. They appreciate what the vendor is doing. They say the lemons look beautiful. And they mean it.

These people are the food aesthetes and I am one of them.

Photos taken at Athens Central Market, October 2010.

Comments

[dfc]

Hi, Are you still based in VN? My blog was on leave for awhile but now it's back at a new url: LivingInHCMC.com

[Building a House]

A lot of people who want to cook with less fat are surprised by that. You can cook vegetables in a little water in a covered pan and then throw the fat into the residual liquid to coat them.

[Kite]

Nice post I love all your recipes! I've become quite the addict lately! Thanks for a great dinner.