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 had one of the best afternoons I have had in a long time. Annette, a graduating student at UNISG, came and picked me to take me to where she is currently working–il laboratorio di resistenza dolciaria. From the first time she pronounced the name of this magic place I was intrigued. The name literally means the workshop of the sweet resistance and it is a pastry shop and bakery in Alba. This place is a statement against industrial sweets and Kinder snacks.

I jumped at the opportunity to meet Federico and experience this place first hand. After about ten minutes I was feeling right at home and Federico asked me if I wanted to play. “Ma certo,” I replied. How could I resist. I washed my hands and slipped on an apron. We made baci di dama (buttery hazelnut cookies with a chocolate filling). Our job was to shape the pieces of dough into rounds and place them on a baking sheet. It had been a long time since I had done anything manual and I found it really relaxing. What I liked best was the social aspect of the work: we passed the time talking about our philosophy of food and our passions in the kitchen. I left smelling of butter and hazelnuts with a huge smile on my face.

Thank you Annette and Federico for a fantastic afternoon.