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Touring and Eating at the Markets of Paris

James and I went to Paris last week. Again. People keep asking us why we go back over and over, and for a brief moment we contemplated not returning until next year. The instant melancholy we both felt was enough to convince us that we’ll visit much sooner than that, probably October. That should give our cholesterol time to level out.

We had a particularly wonderful and magical time this trip, probably because we had no real agenda other than finding a daily fix of foie gras and sharing a nightly bottle of Côtes du Rhone. One thing that made this trip special was touring and eating at the glorious Parisian markets with brothers Sebastien and Pascal Bensidoun, fourth generation market owners and managers at Groupe Bensidoun in France and Bensidoun USA. In addition to their markets in Paris, they also run thirteen French-style markets in Illinois, Michigan, and White Plains, New York. In November 2009, they opened the French Market in Chicago to the delight of foodies there.

We rent apartments when we go to Paris, and we love to buy much of our food at the markets. One of our favorite markets is on Boulevard Richard Lenoir, which we first found in an inspirational little book, “Markets of Paris.“ We buy fresh vegetables, delicious cheeses that we’ve never heard of before, sometimes shrimp, and always a fragrant roasted chicken, a crunchy baguette and some sort of scrumptious tart. I was introduced to Sebastien and Pascal through my research for “Markets of New York City.” So, a week ago Sunday, our first full day in Paris, the Bensidoun brothers picked us up and whisked us off to the Marché Bio, or the Organic Market at Raspail.

The food markets of Paris have a long and wonderful history, and the organic market is especially remarkable. All the food items are certified “AB,” or “Agriculture Biologique” by the French Ministry of Agriculture. The products looked fresh, flawless, and delicious. The string beans, carrots, Clementine oranges and litchis we ate at home definitely tasted great. There is an immense variety of fresh fruits and vegetables, prepared foods, honey, preserves, meat, seafood, and much more. An impressive number of people were waiting in line for the organic breads. James picked up a tiny heart-shaped piece of goat cheese covered in ash. It was the strongest goat we’ve ever tasted and stuck with us for the rest of the day. My favorite item was the grouping of black truffles under a glass cloche. The vendor lifted the cover, and the musky mushroomy fragrance swam up into the air. We learned that there are truffles and there are truffles. If the price seems too good to be true, they are probably imported from Asia. French truffles never lose their value, unless, of course, they get eaten.

We also visited the market at Auguste Blanqui in the 13^th Arrondissement that day and Cours de Vincennes later in the week. Like the Raspail market, Auguste Blanqui sets up on the on the center island of a boulevard, and so it is long and narrow, unlike our sprawling market at Union Square. This market runs almost a kilometer in length, with vendor tables on either side. At the Cours de Vincennes, we had an unexpected and delicious meal of salmon, salsify, and red wine with a Valrhona chocolate for dessert. The French Federation of Amateur Chefs holds food demonstrations at the markets, and Sebastien and Pascal made sure we didn’t miss this one. The salmon melted in my mouth. Despite the rainy day, the market was lively and active.

We didn’t run into Gerard Depardieu or Catherine Deneuve, who both, as we understand, frequent the markets. But we felt like celebrities ourselves as we strolled along with Sebastien and Pascal. They introduced us to the vendors and showed us all of the wonderful things about their markets. Merci beaucoup! We’ll be back soon!

The Eifel Tower may be touristy, but I adore it and never tire of watching it sparkle at night.

Handmade in Haiti

Haiti is not paradise. Parts of it, though, are breathtaking. I’ve been trying to think about those parts since the horrendous earthquake this week.

I spent four years working on an aid project in Haiti. I had the opportunity to work with some brilliant and dedicated people and to travel to all corners of the country. We worked long days, but weekends were an adventure waiting to happen. You might hike through a forest and end up at the beautiful Bassin Bleu, a waterfall with a lagoon at the bottom that was the bluest water you’ve ever seen. Dusk at Labadi Beach in the off-season brought a rowboat full of roasted lobsters and juicy mangoes, on the off-chance that maybe we might be hungry. And the food! Not only are the chicken creole and the djondjon rice fine and delicious, but the fresh seafood is prepared simply expertly, and mouthwateringly. And don’t even get me started on Rum Punch.

And then there are the handicrafts. I wanted to write something about Haiti, and so I took a tour of my apartment. Haitians make remarkable things and sell them along the roads and in impromptu markets, especially near the touristy spots or the places where the international community hangs out. You have probably seen the hammered steel wall sculptures of smiling suns, musicians, birds, and more. I have paintings reminiscent of Gaugin, with bright colors, wild animals, and huge colorful flowers. Nobody who visits Haiti can leave without a papier mâché Carnival mask, preferably a scary devil with long rope hair. (I gave mine to my nephew because it was scaring my cat.)

And finally, the mythical mermaids. You can find them everywhere, made with sequins, wood, papier mache, steel. They’re all beautiful, and to me they represent the spirit of Haiti.

My deepest condolences go to the families of the wounded and lost. Most of my friends and colleagues are accounted for, but one is still missing.

Many thanks to the valiant aid workers and emergency responders and in Haiti. You bring the experience, the equipment and the hope.

How can we help? Here is the New York Time’s list of organizations helping Haiti. Many have been there for years, and some are emergency responders. The people of Haiti are going to need help and support for a long time to come. Every nickel helps.

For twitter updates, I am following Richard Morse (RAMHaiti), owner of the Hotel Oloffson and lead vocalist for root music band, RAM. Here’s a link to RAM’s classic, “Ibo Lele (Dreams Come True).”

The Brooklyn Flea Continues to Blow My Socks Off

As I braved the frigid weather to get to the Brooklyn Flea’s new indoor market, I wondered what kind of indoor space could possibly accommodate the large number of vendors and the crowds of shoppers. I got out of the subway station and asked a nice lady if she knew where One Hanson Place was. “It’s right in front of you, honey,” she said. “That huuuuuge building right on the corner.”

One Hanson Place used to house the Williamsburgh Savings Bank. The tallest building in Brooklyn, the former bank’s lobby/event space is absolutely gorgeous, with marble everywhere, vaulted ceilings, soaring columns, and the old bank teller windows and lamps. Every weekend through March, it is filled with over 100 flea market vendors and artisans.

The vendors’ shops fill the main walkway, and they spill over into every nook and cranny, including side hallways, upstairs offices and overlooks. Definitely do not miss the old bank vault downstairs. It still houses treasures, only now they’re in the form of lobster rolls from the Red Hook Lobster Pound, handmade chocolates from Nunu, McClure’s pickles, and much more.

I picked out a beautiful, sturdy tote bag from Loyalty and Blood. I also ran into australianScent and got to tell them that my scary winter elbows are soft and supple with their Balm of Gilead moisturizer that I had purchased at the Brooklyn Flea’s Gifted Market. In addition to Rain Lily’s gorgeous handcrafted, fair trade silk scarves, she also had tiny “dhokra,” or lost wax, figurines from India. (Rachel Ray bought the horse on Sunday, but I’m partial to the piggies.) The old typewriter photograph from She Hit Pause Studios, housed upstairs, is gorgeous and inspirational.

I met some new people as well. John Murphy’s dreamy and colorful prints and photographs stopped me in my tracks. He uses all of my favorite colors – orange, pink, robin’s egg blue, and more. I also fell in love with Paula Hill’s vintage buttons. She knows the history of every single button, including Bakelite and earlier plastics from the early 1900’s. I’ll show you her vintage Valentine’s in a week or two!

The Brooklyn Flea’s winter home is just as fun and adventurous as their outdoor venues. Thank goodness we don’t have to wait until spring to shop at the Flea!

Brooklyn Flea: Saturdays and Sundays through March, One Hanson Place

Winter Markets – Hot Cider and Woolens to Keep You Warm

A lot of people think the farmers markets shut down for the winter. Most of them do, but seventeen Greenmarkets are open each week, and Community Markets is partnering with the Makers Market at the Old American Can Factory to hold an indoor farmers market in Gowanus starting this weekend.

I love the markets in the winter: I feel like some kind of pioneer, bundling up first thing in the morning when it’s 22ºF outside to go out for provisions. (When it’s warm outside, it’s “food,” but when it’s freezing, it’s “provisions.”)

James and I went to Abingdon Square for apples from Red Jacket Orchards to make applesauce tomorrow. Since it wasn’t too windy out, we continued on to the Union Square Market to see what wintery things are on offer there and to take a picture of a perfect pretzel from Martin’s Pretzels for the book (which is in its final stages).

What caught my eye? Wool! And not scratchy, rustic wool, but soft, rich, lustrous yarns that would set any knitter’s heart aflutter. In addition to offering beautiful “artisanal sheep’s milk cheese,” 3-Corner Field Farm had buckets of luscious undyed yarn from their sheep. This weekend they also had sweet, tiny baby hats. Catskill Merino Sheep Farm offers a wide variety of meat products from their herds, and they also have a full spectrum of colored yarns. You can’t miss their tent – it’s the one with the bundles of yarn hanging all around it. They offer undyed and hand-dyed yarns in four weights. I picked out a skein of the heaviest weight undyed yarn to make, oh, something deliciously soft and cozy. I can’t wait to start knitting with it. (I’m no master knitter, but my sister-in-law Judy and I just got some great new needles at Purl in Soho.)

In addition to fine yarns, there are things at the markets that you really want because it’s winter, primarily delicious, steamy, hot apple cider dipped out of huge pots on hotplates. Root vegetables abound, and grainy breads are irresistible. I loved the Garlic Raspberry Jelly from Berkshire Berries. Not only is it a beautiful, translucent pink color, but it satisfies both sweet and savory cravings.

And then there’s the gallon and half-gallon bottles of Deep Mountain Maple Syrup from Vermont. That should get me through the next week of winter!