Rachel Black

I just found out about this new documentary film that is being made about the Porta Palazzo market in Turin. I can’t wait to see the whole film. I wonder which will appear first my book or their film. It would be fun to present the two together.

Babel’s Market Trailer from Peter Gerard on Vimeo.

Michele and some lovely uva nera

When I was in Turin last month I returned to the field where I did the research for my PhD dissertation, the Porta Palazzo market. I was very anxious about going back after many years and only a few sporadic visits. I was going to find out what had happened during my absence, to find my old friends and informants and to see if I could salvage the manuscript I had written about this magic place.

As I approached the market from via Milano, I felt the same uncertainty I initially had when I first started my fieldwork: would I be accepted by the people at the market, would they remember me, how had our relationship changed from when I was here each day working next to the vendors doing my shopping and living a large portion of my life in piazza? What personal questions would they ask me (because they always do ask personal questions) and how would I tell them about the changes in my life? How would I recount all the places I had been and lived? How would I bring our worlds together again?

The first people I encounter were Luigi and his family at the candy stand. They were possibly the hardest people to get to know, with their guarded Piedmontese manners and closed family circle. As the shy smile rolled across Luigi’s face, I knew he remembered me. The whole family began to ask me where I had been? Where did I live now? We fell into our old prattle about life, health, relationships and happiness. Everything had changed but everything had stayed the same. I would soon learn that this largely held true for most of Porta Palazzo.

That week I went to the market each day. I spent time with my old friends. I drank wine and ate salami with Oscar and Walter. I went to Said’s house to break the Ramadan fast and catch up with his wife Naima. I even got to meet one of their beautiful daughters, who is a new edition since I first met this young Moroccan couple in 2002. At the farmers’ market, Pier let me mind his vegetable stand while he went to fetch his truck and his uncle Michele made me taste each type of grape he had brought to market as I waited. Andrea still looked as much in love as the last time I saw him selling bananas and pineapples. He told me about what happiness his relationship brings him. While there was some joy, there was also the usual storm clouds: everyone lamented the poor economy (like they always do) and talked about the impossibility of going forward in such a depressed state. No one except Piero had left (and that was family feud) the market. We are all a little older. There are more children. Most importantly, the market marches on as it satiates the city’s hunger.

For an anthropologist returning to the field can be one of the hardest things to do. However, it can also been one of the most interesting and fruitful activities. Returning to Porta Palazzo after a five-year break I had new questions to ask about the market. I saw more continuity. I could grasp long-term changes and trends. Yes, it was all the same but all different as well.

Every time I have gone to the farmers’ market in Bra this fall I have admired the upright bunches porri; I have never seen such elegant leeks. They are particularly white on the bottom and they stand about three feet tall. Yesterday, I broke down and bought some. I started to talk with the farmer selling this local speciality and he explained proudly that this specific type of leek is grown only in Cervere, which is on the road to Fossano about 30 km from Bra, and they are only available in the fall until the first week of December. These leeks even have their own web site (aren’t they clever). I have to admit I was attracted to this vegetable mainly because of its aesthetic beauty and because I had a nice leek and potato soup in mind. I paid my 5 euros (it seemed like a lot for leeks) and picked up the beautiful green bouquet that was bound together with a piece of wood. It must have weighed at least 5 kilos! I had no idea what I was going to do with all of these leeks.

While I was buying wine in a local enoteca, I mentioned my purchase to the woman in the shop. She suggested making a sauce for gnocchi and someone else offered up a recipe for a frittata. I think I will be eating leeks all week but there does not seem to be a lack of culinary uses for them around these parts.

Eat local, eat seasonal!

I ran across this video of Alice Waters at the market on the New York Times web site. She certainly is enthusiastic but I wish I could ask her what she means by “pure” food. As much as I love markets, I am always a little skeptical about the origins of the food on offer. I guess it depends on the market but rarely are the farmers present and often the food on sale is from a central wholesale market. After having spent several years working in markets in Europe, I am less romantic than most. It is interesting to see the revival of farmers’ markets in North America. I think it is good and the selection process of the vendors is often rigorous. I just hope this is not a fad and that markets remain an integral and accessible element in the North American foodscape.

It is a warm day today and I did not leave the house until 1pm–it was hot. I stopped for a plate of pasta in a bar up the street but my major motivation was the market. Most markets take place in the morning but the Saturday market here in Bra is held in the afternoon.

After lunch I made my way through the town and to the covered market area. All along the way men were working hard putting up tents for next week’s big event, Cheese. When I reached the market area I was suprised to find there were only tents and equipment for Cheese and no market. I continued on behind the market building where I found about ten stands with a good selecion of fresh fruits and vegetables. All week I have been asking myself why the produce looks so much better here. It looks like it has been grown by humans and it is nice that those humans, farmers, are there selling it to you.

Almost everyone was speaking Piedmontese but I could still catch a word here and there. I found it hard to contain my purchasing and keep in mind I only had to feed myself. I bought beautiful red and yellow peppers, cuore di bue tomatoes that would go perfect with the canasta lettuce I had just bought. I purchased basil and garlic for a pasta sauce and then I hit my weakness : fruit. Apples and pears are in season so I bought some of those. However, what blew me away were the grapes. One vendor let me try each kind and I loved them all. At home I love eating concord grapes because they have tannic skins and a very grapey sweetness. I settled for some barbera grapes that are usually used for making wine. They were closest to the concords I love so much but with larger individual tightly-packed berries. I bought a kilo.

The best thing was that all my shopping cost me less than 10 euros. This is one of the advantages of living in a small town in the countryside.