In Paris vegetable and fruit market stalls are everywhere. Their colorful displays used to be so tempting. Now, not so much. After I took an early morning tour of Rungis, the city's enormous central market, it dawned on me that ingredients grown and delivered on this scale were not the same fruits and vegetables that make French cuisine great. Where could I find them?
Parisiens buy an extra baguette on the last day in April. They know the town will shut down on May 1. The occasion is Workers Day, the Fête du Travail. Neighborhood cafes are packed with families enjoying a meal and the warm weather. Every second person carries a lily of-the-valley nosegay. These are sold on street corners by aid agencies. Paris waives the sales tax this one day. It's a sign spring has arrived.
No sooner had we poured ourselves some wine and ordered lunch at a neighborhood cafe when the waiter plopped a bottle of ketchup on the table. Twenty years ago this gesture would have been a ‘put-down’ reserved for American tourists. Today ketchup arrives with everyones order of pommes frites.