Paris abounds with open air markets in every neighborhood. At first light, vendors begin setting up their covered stalls and setting out the freshest of ingredients. I’ve visited many of them but never really did any real shopping. Having lived near Rue Cler in the 7th arrondissement, I was just steps from a permanent market with the best fruits, vegetables, cheeses, meats, and flowers. Could an organic market be any different?

Sunday at 8:00 AM, I roll out of bed to brush my teeth, throw on some clothes, and bundle myself up. The streets are perfectly silent as I make my way to the Metro. 98% of Paris is probably still dreaming between warm sheets while I’m dancing around in the 26 degree weather waiting for Nina at the entrance to Metro Sevres-Babylone.

We walk down Boulevard Raspail to the market entrance. Only a handful of people have braved the finger tingling weather to browse the stalls for the Sunday dinner. The pungent fragrance of caramelizing onions and potatoes greets us. I ask for a warm potato onion cake to fortify my hunger while walking through the market. It’s toasted dark exterior gives way to a creamy white center of melted goodness.

Munching away, we make our way among the early morning shoppers, gazing at some of the most beautiful produce. Everything sold here must be certified organic. There are plump purple artichokes, blushing red blood oranges, rich orange squash and pumpkins, and bright yellow peppers. It’s an explosion of color everywhere we look.

Half way through the market, we find the English muffin guy. An ex-pat from the US, Michael Healy is known as the muffin man. He uses only organic whole wheat flour grown on a farm near Healy’s home in Normandy. The course meal found on the outside of each muffin is hand ground in a mortar and pestle by the man himself. Rumor has it Juliette Binoche frequents this stand, ordering a dozen at a time. I only buy four.

We make our way leisurely down the aisle eyeing the fresh cheese, bread, seafood, and meat. As we pass the oyster stand, there’s a man chucking tiny ones like it’s no big deal. He deftly pops off the top shell, gently loosens the mollusk from the bottom shell, and hands them to customers to sample. The air around the stand smells briny and sweet, just like the sea. And I swear I can hear a soundtrack of the ocean playing. Or is that just my imagination?

At the far end of the market, Nina and I stop to photograph an amazing collection of bread. We take small samples of the rye, whole wheat, and sesame breads as we strike up a conversation in mixed French and English with two people behind the counter. We discuss digital cameras, French flour, and the newly-released-in-France movie, Into the Wild. They ask us to come back again next week for more bread with dried fruit and a movie review.

Click here to see the photos.

By 10 AM, our fingers are numb and our noses cold, so we slip back into the Metro. That night when Geoffory arrives home, he prepares a sumptuous meal from my market purchases.

The carrots he sautés in water, salt and butter until cooked through. Then they are glazed by letting the water evaporate in the pan and the butter turns nutty brown. I wash and pick the leaves from the bunches of mache, a delicate French lettuce rarely found in the US. We dress it with a little hazelnut oil, good balsamic vinegar, and a sprinkle of Normandy fleur de sel I also picked up this morning.

Geoffroy turns the four purple artichokes, cutting off their exterior leaves, scraping the stem, and removing the choke. He cuts them into quarters and drops them into a lemon water bath to prevent them from browning. Once drained, he sautés them in olive oil with half a diced shallot and some lemon olive oil. He barely cooks them through then tosses them with a little fleur de sel. The taste is beyond amazing.

I juice the blood oranges to accompany our dinner, and Geoffroy sears a couple of medium-rare entrecôtes (steak) for us. The meal is perfect, and we enjoy every bite knowing most everything we ate grew up without pesticides or nasty chemicals. This is how a meal should be!

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