To Market, To Market...

Back in the day, everyone in Barcelona shopped in local markets. And, although US-style supermarkets now exist in every neighborhood, there is still a thriving network of local markets that house purveyors of chicken, pork, produce, fish, cheese, eggs, and most everything else you can possibly need to cook. (See http://www.mercatsbcn.com). We’ve visited those that are relatively close to our house, as well as the famous Boqueria on Las Ramblas, but many of the stalls were closed until this week.

Shopping at one of these typical markets—especially if you love food the way we do—connects you both to the culture and to the people who grow, make and raise the food. It’s an incredibly rich sensory experience as well. If you are thinking about buying grapes, say, the produce vendor gives you a taste. When considering whether to buy a particular kind of fish with which you may not be familiar, the butcher will spend 15 minutes telling you how to prepare it, even if there is a long line of people waiting (the patience Barcelonans exhibit in such situations puts New Yorkers to shame).

The thing is, if you want to get the best stuff, you have to become a regular not only at the market, but at the particular vendors. This is a particular challenge if you look like us, because people assume we are tourists. The fact that we speak Spanish and have a rolling shopping cart (something you don’t often see a tourist using) helps.

So, first, we had to choose a market to adopt. The Sant Gervasi market is closest to our house (about a 10 minute walk) but a bit limited in terms of its selection. The Galvany market is a bit farther, but very high quality; its hours are quite limited however. The La Libertat market in Gracia is two train stops away but is large, has a great vibe, and is open early and late. So Gracia is our choice.

We invited another new family—from LA, with 3 kids, one of whom is in Milo’s class—for an early dinner tonight, and decided to make a chicken dish (marinated in honey, lemon, saffron, cumin and ginger, then baked) from a cookbook I picked up this week called The New Spanish Table. What better reason to begin our market adventure. Alec and C.C. set off, chose to start at a fish place that looked good, and then selected subsequent vendors by asking each vendor where to go next for the next item on the list: “Who should I buy pork from?”, etc. Mari, the chicken lady, actually took Alec by the elbow and walked him over to the meat guy and introduced him as her client. I’ll have to go with him next time so folks know we are together.

C.C.’s participation in the excursion netted us a chicken head (she wants to study it), quail eggs (for her breakfast tomorrow) and some snails (not sure what they will be used for). She also took the photo of the day, which features ostrich eggs.