Bourgueil market

One thing I absolutely don’t want to miss when staying in the Loire Valley is the Bourgueil market on Tuesday. It’s a very attractive market, with lots of stalls scattered over several streets that all lead to the central historic market hall near the church.

Historic market hall of Bourgueil.

Most of the vendors from our first Loire Valley trip in 1999 are still there: the smiling honey lady, the elderly onion and garlic lady, the funny and talkative man who sells warm ‘boudin noir’ (black pudding) and warm rillons, a local specialty, … Unfortunately, the young woman selling fresh goat’s cheeses is gone. We’ve only seen her twice, in the early years. I remember buying some excellent fresh cheese with spicy garden herbs one year and a delicately matured goat’s cheese the second. Her place has been taken by a man selling dried sausages.

This year I took B. and J.L. to see the honey lady. As usual, I stocked up on some excellent honey vinegar with garlic and I bought of jar of chestnut honey for my mother. B. also got a bottle of strawberry vinegar. The garlic lady was there too, but apparently it was too early days for her home-grown garlic as she was only selling spring onions this time.

Colourful and crunchy radishes.

We left the market hall and ventured on, marvelling over the variety and freshness of the vegetables. The asparagus and strawberries, which are in season, looked particularly attractive. So did the radishes. We also saw some ‘gallipettes’ mushrooms. The tantalizing smell of roasted chickens, sautéed potatoes and warm ‘boudin noir’ filled the air. It’s definitely not a good idea to visit this market on an empty stomach as you are tempted to buy more than you can eat.

In one of the streets a young man was playing the accordion; old-time favourites such as Edith Piaf’s ‘Mylord’. The atmosphere was very relaxed with people strolling from stall to stall; sometimes stopping to talk to someone they knew. Before going down to the clothes’ section we bought some ‘rillettes de poulet’ for our evening picnic.

In the clothes’ section I was surprised to see vendors actually selling wedding gowns and cute, but in my opinion slightly too adult-looking, communion dresses. When B. stopped to take a closer look at a pretty turquoise and white suit for her six year old granddaughter, she was immediately approached by the vendor. He explained that all these items were ‘made in France’: “Toute ma merchandise est faite en France, pas en Chine …” (All my merchandise is made in France, not in China …) he insisted. He kept repeating that it was important to check both sides of the label, as it was the only guarantee that the article was genuine, “comme vous les voyez à la télévison” (as the ones you see on TV).

Ceremonial dress for a four-year-old:
'Made in France', cost: 45 euros!

B. was tempted to buy the suit as it was really cute and not expensive at all. Unfortunately, the six-year-old size was missing and so we left empty-handed. As we walked away, the man insisted once again that we should always check the labels on both sides!

I saw a nice pair of jeans that I really liked (of which I carelessly forget to check the label!), but refrained from buying them as there was no private place to try them on, except for the saleslady’s little van!

 

The Mickey bar in Bourgueil.

It was almost noon when we found an empty table on the terrace of the Mickey bar facing the church. We all had a cool drink discussing our plans for the rest of the day.

Do you buy clothes in an outdoor market without trying them on or do you get into the little van to do so? And how about ceremonial clothing?

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Begging for bread

This year’s first complete day in the Loire Valley, was rather a busy one; with my travelling companions visiting de castles of Chenonceau and Montpoupon and me spending the day with my French friends in Francueil. It was in fact so busy that none of us thought of buying a baguette for our evening picnic. So much for me trying to be the perfect tour guide! We still had some ham, cheese and rillettes left from the previous day. And as far as wine was concerned, we had the remaining five bottles of Françoise I, Amboise Touraine, from the Cave des Vignerons.

By the time we got back to Vouvray, and after having a beer on the terrace of the village bar ‘Le Bouchon’ with Susan and Simon, all the bakeries in the village had closed for the evening. Although we weren’t very hungry after the delicious and copious lunches we had eaten, we didn’t want to go to bed on an empty stomach. What were we to do?

Le Bouchon (Tabac sign), the village bar in Vouvray.

J.L. suggested that we’d ask the lady of the chambre d’hôtes whether there was any bread left from breakfast. It seemed a good idea, but then I remembered that she had told us last year that the daily maid, who has three sons, usually gets the surplus of bread and croissants.

From our previous stays in Vouvray I knew that the bar also served a daily workman’s lunch. So maybe Valerie, the young lady who runs the bar, had a piece of bread she could spare. It seemed a bit strange to ask her, though, and we tried to think of another option. There was the pizzeria a bit further down the road. Maybe we could get a takeaway pizza … No, we discarded that option, as it would be a pity to let the excellent ham and other food items go to waste.

Finally I mustered all my courage and walked into the bar. There was only one patron sitting at the bar, chatting with Valerie. I attracted her attention. When she came over I said, rather embarrassed: “I know this is a strange thing to ask, but do you have some bread we could buy from you?” She looked puzzled, so I explained our problem.

“I’ll see what I’ve got” she said and went into the backroom. She was back in a jiffy. “Will this do?’ she asked waving half a baguette in the air. “That’s just fine. How much do I owe you?” I answered. “It’s on the house.” she replied. I thanked her for her kindness and walked out into the street to show my ‘loot’ to my friends. We decided to have another drink, to make up for Valerie’s generosity.

It was well over half past eight and getting rather chilly when we walked back to our chambre d’hôtes to ‘feast’ on our ‘demi-baguette’. We spent the rest of evening eating and talking about what we had done and seen during the day. By half past ten we decided to break up the party and go to bed, as Tuesday promised to be another busy day, starting with an hour’s drive to Bourgueil.

Have you ever been in a similar situation where you had to improvise and do something you normally wouldn’t even consider doing in everyday life?

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Wednesday Whispers

May 2010: The chapel of Amboise castle,
where the last remains of Leonardo Da Vinci are burried.
Photo taken from inside the château, through one of the
leaded glass window panes.

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