Consuming Provence: the Place of Gastronomy in Provençal Tourism and Culture
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PLACE: An interdisciplinary e-journal, volume 3, 2009, http://www.elsewhereonline.com.au/place/ Consuming Provence: The Place of Gastronomy in Provençal Tourism and Culture Alicia Marchant It is a rich pleasure to sit at the side of the market and watch people come and go, weaving in and out of the many stalls, looking at the produce, sometimes picking up something to smell or squeeze in order to test its ripeness or freshness, and then perhaps finally to buy it. At Saint-Rémy we sat at a café and watched an old lady walk slowly around the market with her little dog on a leash, buying bits and pieces and placing them in her basket. Today, a clear but chilly Wednesday in December, it would appear that freshly roasted chicken [Fig. 1], and an assortment of vegetables such as fennel, potatoes and green beans are on the menu, along with some clementines and almonds [Fig. 2]. She travels around with an air of knowing every little inch of the marketplace as if it were an extension of her own home, and nods and greets people as if they were her own family members. The market is a place of interconnectedness: chances are the people with whom the old lady at Saint-Rémy was engaging were indeed family members, or at least members of her community; possibly neighbours, members of her church, or simply people that she sees each week at the market. For her it is not just about the produce for sale, but a social engagement. All around the marketplace are the sounds of social interaction, of buying and selling. At the dried fruit and nut stall in Saint-Rémy [Fig. 3] a customer shouts ‘une bonne poignée, s’il vous plaît’ (‘a good handful, please’) to be heard above the rhythmic sound of the chopping of salted fish that is going on at the neighbouring fish stall [Fig. 4]. Every now and then you hear a seller conversing in English – this is common in Nice, but at the smaller markets of Provence not so prominent. The most common noise is the shouts of sellers making sure that everyone knows that theirs are the best and freshest endive or radishes around [Fig. 5]. The market is like a performance space; the sellers speak much louder than is usual in order to thank someone for their custom – it advertises to other potential buyers that they have a satisfied customer. Frequently you are asked to try olives or slices of sausage – the seller recognises that these two products are among reasons so many tourists frequent the markets of Provence; vegetables are not practical to transport, but olives and sausages are easy for travellers to take with them [Fig. 6, Fig. 7]. It is important when walking around the markets to admire their setting: much pleasure can be gained from looking around and even up at the houses that provide the frame for the market. All of the markets that we visited were located centrally in the town, on the main squares and streets; the marketplaces are at the centre of the township, both physically and conceptually. For instance, at Aix-en-Provence the farmers market at Place Richelme is surrounded by some of the oldest and most beautiful houses of the city. It is little wonder that Paul Cézanne found so much inspiration in the town itself, and the surrounding countryside. The famous market at Cours Saleya in Nice is located about two hundred metres from the sea, where locals and tourists alike have long promenaded [Fig. 8, Fig. 9]. People are drawn into these places; the little medieval streets invite you to follow them towards the larger square where the market takes place. 1 Alicia Marchant, ‘Consuming Provence.’ The market is not arranged in any particular order: there is no demarcation and specific foods are not grouped together. So you end up with a fantastic variety of produce all in a row: fresh meats stalls are next to nut and seed stalls, that are next to fish sellers [Fig. 10, Fig. 11]. It is up to the individual to explore the market. The market itself is arranged in such a way that everyone – local and tourist alike – is to some degree a traveller at the market. The market evolves: stalls come and go, and the produce changes with the seasons. Certainly the little old lady at Saint-Rémy who gave the impression of ownership, that this was her market, would have seen many changes over the years. The stalls themselves are carefully put together: the wares are placed to grab the attention of passers by [Fig. 12]. The range of colour differs little between winter and summer; capsicums and aubergines are on offer for most of the year; red, yellow and deep purple, which alongside the variations of green leafy vegetables are stunning [Fig. 13, Fig. 14, Fig. 15]. It is evident that a great deal of thought has been put into presentation. The olive oil stall has bottles with bright labels and trademarks of the origins of the oil [Fig. 16]; bright scenes of the Cote d’Azur or an olive tree grove near a lavender field. Yet for a fresh olive seller, the display needs little aesthetic encouragement: soft and darker greens sit next to the jet black or even ash coloured olives, not to mention their flavourings of fennel, pimentos, chillies, slices of lemon and bright green herbs. The olive stall makes for a rich painter’s palette [Fig. 17, Fig. 18, Fig. 19]. There is certainly a sense of locality: the food that the old lady collects has been grown not too far from the market, and transported here for sale. Sometimes the stall itself is on the back of a truck or a specialised van with extendable awnings [Fig. 20, Fig. 21]. In Marseille, the fish at the Quai des Belges are transported one metre from the fishing boats to the stalls on the quai for sale [Fig. 22]. The old lady, like everyone who visits the market is just one part of a larger network that creates the market: the processes of growing the produce (and the climate and history that is behind the selection of what is grown), its delivery to a local market, the setting up of the stall in a designated spot (frequently allocated according to a set tradition), the sellers’ communication with the people who visit the market via shouts and colourful presentation, which will hopefully lead to a sale of the produce; this is then taken and prepared for consumption, perhaps at home according to a long-held recipe. The market is an important social space for the town; it is a place of interaction, culturally as well as economically. The noises of the market aurally express these underlying community networks and the colours and displays remind the viewer that they are not just engaging with cultural and social experiences and rituals, but are participating in the economics of the region. These networks exist in many market towns all over Provence. The intrepid traveller can follow some of these networks and connections to other places within Provence; one can start with the market and then pursue other adventures from this central location. For instance, one can find a wine seller at the market, and then visit the winery. Chances are you will find a family run winery with a small output and selected varieties. 2 PLACE: An interdisciplinary e-journal, volume 3, 2009, http://www.elsewhereonline.com.au/place/ It is details such as these that render vivid the tourist encounter with this particular place, and more specifically with the markets and cuisines of this region in southern France; what follows will explore the intersections between Provençal life and tourism. Provence and the Mediterranean: Some Observations from the Marketplace While distinctly French in flavour, Provence’s cuisine undoubtedly reflects a wider Mediterranean influence. There are many similarities with other Mediterranean cuisines, with much overlapping of ingredients and of culinary practices: olives, salads doused in olive oil and tomatoes and herbs, tomato- based dishes with zucchini and aubergine, and a variety of cheeses. The sea itself offers a rich platter of culinary delights: fish, squid and octopus to name only a few. Around the coast many of the traditional Provençal dishes include seafood, from the famous bouillabaisse of Marseille to the sea urchins of Carry le Rouet, and the tellines (shellfish) of Les Saintes Maries-de-la-Mer. These culinary links are the product not only of a similar climate, but also of a long tradition of inter-communication and exchange between the cultures that inhabit the region around the Mediterranean. At the museum of Mediterranean Civilisations (Musée d'Archéologie Méditerranéenne) in a seventeenth-century hospice called the Vieille Charité in Marseille, the importance of Provence’s connection to the Mediterranean can clearly be seen [Fig. 23]. Ancient artefacts have been collected here from all over the Mediterranean: there are Egyptian sarcophagi, bronzes of Greek gods and goddesses and Roman amphorae and ceramics; and while not all of the pieces are from Provence, the effect is to place Provence’s rich history alongside these other cultures. Maps show the major sites of prehistory and antiquity of Provence: prehistoric cave paintings and settlements found in the hills near Aix-en-Provence. It is, however, the ancient Mediterranean powers of Greece and Rome whose presence in Provence generate the most interest for tourists. Marseille’s foundation as a port was thanks primarily to the Greeks: the city of Massalia, was an important Phocaean colony.