Category Archives: Markets

Picard: Delicious Frozen Food in France

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Mediterrannean Paella from Picard

Frozen food in America has not enjoyed the greatest reputation. I think back to the days of my childhood when I looked forward to Friday nights when I had the privilege of heating up a Kid Cuisine meal for dinner. This was a plate of frozen chicken nuggets, corn and chocolate pudding with sprinkles separated by plastic compartments. Yummmm, right? I’m sure my eight year old self did not care what it tasted like: it was fun!

These days, though, Americans seem to have their pick of natural frozen foods, from Trader Joe’s marinated Ahi tuna steaks to Amy’s organic burritos. France also has its share of high quality frozen food, and you can find it all in one place: Picard.

Picard is the place to go for frozen meals in France. The prices are reasonable, there are locations everywhere, and the food actually tastes fresh. In my opinion, Picard frozen food is a step above any frozen food I have had in the U.S. This is why the French will even serve it at a party. It’s that good.

The French, as we all know, are especially talented at making delicious food. How do Picard’s frozen products taste so great? According to Picard’s website, each product, whether it is fish, meat, vegetables, fruits or grains, is selected from the best possible geographic zone and flash-frozen exactly at its peak of ripeness or freshness. The flash-freezing process preserves the cellular structure of the food so that taste, texture and appearance remain the same. No additives, preservatives (conservateur in French, attention!) or stabilizers are added to the product. The freezers in the store are kept at -20 degrees Celsius (-4 Fahrenheit) to ensure the food stays fresh.

Picard vanilla ice cream and caramel filled chocolate eggs

As someone who has a Picard two steps from their apartment, I definitely take advantage of the situation. For lunch, I might have spicy green coconut curry with chicken and rice for 4 euros, or treat myself to some authentic couscous for 2 euros a serving. Picard makes a large selection of tasty single serving entrees for only 2 euros each.

For dinner, my husband and I often enjoy Mediterranean Paella with chicken and seafood for under 7 euros. For a special Easter dessert, we tried Picard’s milk chocolate eggs filled with vanilla ice cream and caramel, less than 4 euros for 4 eggs. Needless to say, they were scrumptious.

Next time you’re in France and have access to a microwave or an oven, surprise your taste buds and stop by Picard to pick up a cheap gourmet meal. You’ll never look at frozen food the same again.

 

Picard frozen foods

http://www.picard.fr/

© 2012 Pasa’s Paris

Doisneau Exposition: Paris Les Halles

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Marche Rue Montorgueil via atelier Robert Doisneau

I first read about les Halles in Emile Zola’s famous novel, Le Ventre de Paris, where he describes with vivid intensity the bustling central marketplace of 19th century Paris and the working-class Parisians who made their living there. Les Halles was indeed Paris’ stomach, as Zola called it, so full of vegetables and meats, crates and merchants, flowers and fruits, that it had become a living entity crucial to the survival of the city.

In 1933, French photographer Robert Doisneau took his first photograph of les Halles, and was hooked ever since. For forty years, he photographed his friends the butchers, the flower sellers, the fruit and vegetable merchants, even the gleaners picking up leftover heads of lettuce and bruised apples after the market. It’s these photos that you will find at the exposition.

In the 1960s, les Halles faced the threat of demolition. Dense and dirty, the market was now considered inadaptable to the needs of the growing modern city of Paris. Determined to save the memories of this sacred place, Doisneau got up every morning at 3am in order to capture images of the merchants unloading their trucks and displaying merchandise. Against the obstacles of fatigue and darkness, Doisneau refused to let this part of Paris disappear forever.

Les filles au diable via paris.fr

With the destruction in 1971of the pavilions that had been constructed by Victor Baltard between 1850 and 1870, Doisneau was there with his camera. He snapped the different phases of the gaping hole where the belly of Paris had been ripped out, and traveled all the way down to Rungis, the new ventre outside of Paris, to understand what had become of all of his merchant comrades.

Currently, the area where les Halles used to exist is being turned into a modern outdoor mall with large open spaces including parks, play areas, and fountains. Additionally, there are plans for music, dance and media venues. The exposition provides visuals and explanations of this project as well.

Although the wait for this exposition can be quite long, I urge you to visit before it’s gone. Le ventre de Paris lives on in Doisneau’s photographs, just as he had hoped.

 

Doisneau Paris Les Halles: l’expo événement

 

Hôtel de ville

29 rue de Rivoli 75004

Metro : Hôtel de ville

From February 8 to April 28 2012

Free entry

http://www.paris.fr/accueil/culture/doisneau-et-le-ventre-de-paris/rub_9652_actu_110423_port_24330

 

© 2012 Pasa’s Paris

 

La Caissière

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Anna Sam (seated), cassiere and now author, via lemediascope.fr

I’ve noticed that being a “checkout girl” in France is a little bit different than the same job in the US. In addition to the group conviviality that seems to exist between French grocery store employees (towards each other, not the customer), an American who goes to a grocery store in any city in France will observe that A) all the cashiers are sitting on rolling chairs, not standing and B) they do not bag groceries. That’s the customer’s job. Yes, I have spent countless hours in line waiting for the little old lady in front of me to finish counting out her pennies or writing her check, and then slowly place each item one by one into her rolling caddy while the cashier looks on. This sounds like less work for the French cashier, but they also generally make less money than their American counterparts.

In addition to requiring customers to bag their own groceries, many French supermarkets such as Monoprix, Ed and the frozen food store Picard do not offer free plastic bags. They usually cost 3 cents each. This is a great move towards limiting waste, and I hope more grocery stores in the US will follow suit.

In 2009, a French cashier (with a degree in humanities) turned blogger published a book about her experiences and observations during hours worked at Leclerc, a popular French grocery store. This book, Les Tribulations d’une Caissière, became a movie that was released in December 2011. Despite her days filled with lines of unpleasant customers and encounters with a cantankerous boss, she manages to keep a smile on her face and stay positive.

This story reminds me of one cassière in particular at my neighborhood Franprix. She is there with a smile on her face every time I go into the store, and that’s nearly every day. While there do seem to be a lot of your average cranky customers at this location, this does not faze her. Unlike her colleagues, she keeps smiling.

This charismatic cashier seems to have neighborhood regulars who go to her line specifically to have a little chat. They exchange pleasantries and tell each other to have a nice day. She even helps certain customers bag their groceries, which I have never, ever seen before during my years in France.

When I am having a bad day, or the sky is gloomy (which is often), I make sure to pick her line. I’m not a regular yet, as that takes years in France, but I know that after she’s rung everything up and hands me my receipt, she will also give me something that is quite rare in Paris: a smile.

At the end of the caissière movie, the girl meets prince charming and lives happily ever after. This may sound cheesy, but I sincerely hope the same for my cheerful neighborhood checkout girl. Who knows, maybe she’s writing a blog too.

 

© 2012 Pasa’s Paris

 

Just another Trip to Franprix

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Franprix, "mes courses préférées" My favorite groceries

Even going to the local supermarket, Franprix, is not a simple task here in Paris. I have two choices: the quick way, which takes me past the hustle and bustle of the bank, the post office, honking cars, and numerous red-faced SDFs (homeless people) already drunk at 11am and begging for more money to feed their addictions. If I take this way, I have to maneuver around the piles of things that belong to the homeless people: cigarette cartons, bottles, filthy socks, hungry dogs, etc. I only take this way if I’m in a real hurry or if I have to pick something up from a local shop on the way back.

As you may have guessed, I usually take the second route. It’s longer but more scenic as it takes me for a moment along the canal and I pass little restaurants full of people enjoying themselves. Today, I choose this second way. I pass the courthouse with groups of judges outside smoking away, still wearing their black robes. They blend in with other employees on break as they too are wearing black and, of course, smoking. I weave around the smoke and notice one of the restaurants is closed. Through the dark window, I see giant turkeys and crates of vegetables piled high on the tables. The sign outside says, to my surprise, that they are preparing a special Thanksgiving dinner for this evening.

The woman walking in front of me is taking her sweet time, but the sidewalk is not wide enough for me to pass her. When she finally crosses the street, a man walks towards me as if he plans to walk right through me, so I am forced to go around him.

“Geez! Don’t move over or anything!” I say loudly in English while continuing on my way. People on the street stare at me, but I don’t care. It has only taken five seconds outside today to make me angry. Even though I have lived in France several times before, a person invading my personal space still gets on my nerves.

My next obstacle is to cross the giant mass of students, also dressed in black, who are permanently on a smoke break outside the school. A grey cloud of smoke hovers above them, a line of Vespas and other motorbikes belonging to them border the sidewalk. I see no other choice but to walk in the street to get around them. I see one poor fool who attempts to walk through the group nearly get burned by one of the many cigarettes being waved carelessly around in the air.

I have not escaped the SDFs. There are a couple waiting by the door of the supermarket to plead to passing customers. Luckily they are too wrapped up in their conversation to bother me as I enter the store. Thank God French people love to talk.

Once inside, little old ladies pick out their dinners to the irksome American rap music booming over the loudspeaker, no doubt chosen by one of the young cashiers. I smell alcohol on someone’s breath. It’s just past 1pm, someone must have had a boozy lunch. It turns out to be an older Franprix employee who is stumbling through the isles. I am careful to avoid him. A couple of girls in tights and skirts aren’t so lucky. He strides up to them and says:

“Stay away from the refrigerated section, Mesdemoiselles, vous allez attrapez froid! (You are going to catch cold)!”

They stare at each other as I laugh to myself hidden in the next isle. As I go to the checkout line, Monsieur is already at the front of the store. Now he is harassing the checkout lady. Staring at her, tears in his eyes, he addresses the entire store:

“Have you seen this beautiful smile Mesdames et Messieurs? What a gem this woman is,” he sighs with emotion. The poor cashier smiles at me, embarrassed. I smile back, appreciating how few and far between smiles are in Paris.

The homeless people try to bother me on the way out, but I stare past them and focus on the graceful, peaceful canal. On a gray day like today when everyone seems to be acting crazy and even the “good” way is looking like the bad way, it’s the only thing that keeps me from becoming just like them.

© 2011 Pasa’s Paris

 

In Praise of Small Shops in France

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Befriend your local Fromagère

It’s tempting to do all of your grocery shopping in France the way it’s done in the US, the “one stop shop,” because that’s what many Americans are used to. It is possible to do here in Paris as there are chain supermarkets everywhere you look- Franprix, Monoprix, G20, etc. It’s easy and fairly quick, even if mamie cuts in front of you in line and you have to bag your own groceries while the checkout person sits in their swivel chair and rings up your items. You don’t have to talk to anyone, you can stand in the isle and compare prices and products at your leisure, and you can look at the cash register screen to see the total instead of listening for it in French.

However, I have purchased the “poulet roti” in a bag from Franprix for 7 euros: dry, old and salty. There are boucheries all over the place with their own spits, slow roasting chickens, ducks and the like. You can smell the delicious aroma from down the street. Here you have your selection of size- a couple thighs for one person, a medium size chicken for two, or a large one for a family. You can pick out the bird yourself, and a medium-sized poulet roti costs about 6 euros. So, a poulet roti from a butcher is fresher, tastier, cheaper, and you have access to the butcher’s expertise. He or she can suggest accompaniments, like roasted potatoes (pommes sautés), which they can sell you as well, or can recommend a size if you are uncertain how big of a chicken to buy. If you are curious about other meats, go ahead and ask! You may end up discovering new cuts of meat and ways to cook it that you never thought of before.

Buying a couple salmon filets from Monoprix will cost around 10 euros. They will be small and they certainly won’t be freshly caught. At your local poissonnerie you will have a vast choice of fish (unlike at the supermarket where the selection is very limited) and they too can suggest a quantity based on the number of people, the best way to cook the fish, and what it would go best with. The fish will be fresh, the fishmonger friendly, and two salmon filets will cost around 8 euros instead of 10.

Cheese. Ah, le fromage. The supermarket does no justice to this exquisite dairy product. It is all wrapped in plastic here and you can’t smell it nor see its texture. At a fromagerie, you will be exposed to all sorts of colors, odors and consistencies. You can taste a sample, or ask the fromager to recommend something very runny – coulant or creamy, crémeux. You can also pick how much you want by showing them or by saying un petit bout (a small piece) or un grand morceau (a large piece).

Don’t even think of buying produce from the supermarket. It came from far away, it’s expensive, and it’s going bad. There are fruit and vegetable stands on every corner that carry local, fresh produce for a similar or cheaper price than Franprix. Of course, there are also the covered and open air markets in each neighborhood that offer the best shopping experience (see blog posts “Markets of the 18th” and “Place Charles Bernard”).

Luckily, most foreigners have the natural instinct to go inside a boulangerie and order a baguette or a pain au chocolat, tempted by the mouthwatering objects beckoning through the glass. Needless to say, don’t buy bread from the grocery store’s “boulangerie.” It will not be as good, I promise. You may notice the words “Artisan Boulanger” written on the facade of boulangeries. This means that bread making is an art, and that each bread maker has undergone intensive training to bring you delectable treats comme il faut: the right flour, the exact temperature of the oven, the proper ratio of ingredients, etc. Because in France, there is often only one right way to things.

To sum it up, independent shops propose fresher, cheaper, local products and offer a richer, friendlier, more natural shopping experience. Not only are you getting higher quality food, but you are also developing relationships with neighborhood shopkeepers and enriching your knowledge about French language, culture, and gastronomy. Have you kissed your boulangère today?

© 2011 Pasa’s Paris