Vicarious Experience Project: #1
For my inaugural vicarious experience assignment, I went with the first assigner, Stacy Miller who requested:
“Visit a Paris farmers market to find some kind of vegetable or fruit you’ve never eaten before.”
I took Jake along with me to Marché Anvers, a market near Montmartre open only on Fridays (conveniently for late-risers) from 3-8. The market is an ideal size, not so small that you have to take whatever mealy apples you’re faced with, but not so large as to be overwhelmed with choice and then finding yourself walking away empty-handed.
The most eye-grabbing displays were the fishmongers, who had giant oysters, spiky sea urchins (how do you eat those?), giant prawns and more creatures beyond my capacity for identification. We walked up and down the corridor twice to scope out which vendors had the best stuff and (more importantly) would be patient with our bumbling french.
With the task of finding produce I’ve never eaten, we chose romanesco, an insane-looking vegetable that I’d seen before, but never actually had. As wikipedia tells us:
Romanesco broccoli or Roman Cauliflower is an edible flower of the species Brassica oleracea and a variant form of cauliflower. Romanesco broccoli was first documented in Italy (as broccolo romanesco) in the sixteenth century. It is sometimes called broccoflower, but that name is also applied to green-curded cauliflower cultivars. It is also known as coral broccoli. It is rich in vitamin C, fiber, and carotenoids.
The vegetable resembles a cauliflower, but is of a light green color and the inflorescence (the bud) has an approximate self-similar character, with the branched meristems making a logarithmic spiral. The broccoli’s shape could be described as fractal; each bud is composed of a series of smaller buds, all arranged in yet another logarithmic spiral.
< our pretty pretty romanesco. >
So, it’s one of the few foods you can eat that is visibly fractal. Neat! We also bought breakfast radishes, a soft-ball sized melon (“ah, c’est super, bon choix!” said the vendor) and a chunk of cantal entre-doux. Well, we meant to buy just a bit of cantal, but Jake impulsively asked for a demi-kilo, which is over a pound. So, it was a big chunk of cheese. Still getting used to metrics…
< everything we got from Marché Anvers, technically all new things since I’ve had radishes, but not breakfast radishes, and melon, but not this kind of petite melon, and cantal but not entre-doux cantal… >
I’ve always loved my trips to farmer’s markets, but they’re a bit more intimidating in France…there’s of course the language thing, but there’s also other rules and anxieties. For example, depending who your vendor is, it’s polite to refrain to touching anything and certainly not a good idea to rifle though the vegetables to find the one you want. At some grocers on the street, I’ve seen signs on every section of produce instructing “NE TOUCHEZ PAS!” So, of course, when I asked for my romanesco, I wasn’t sure what to do, since there was no way he could reach it from where he was, but made no moves to grab one and I certainly didn’t want to commit any farmer’s market sins. Eventually, he said “Alors? Donnez-moi” and I was allowed to choose my own. Now that I’ve crossed that barrier, next time perhaps I’ll be brave enough to order something from the fishmonger.
I later blanched the romansco and served it with a warm olive-caper vinaigrette, which was tasty with the nutty flavor of the romanesco… stronger than cauliflower, but more subtle than broccoli, and overall, a nicer texture than both. We served the radishes as Julia Child recommended: raw, with butter and salt. Cantal is still being eaten a week later, but made for a great quiche a few days ago. And yes, the melon was super.
