Sundays in Paris

Sundays in Paris are exciting, colorful and heady. We always head for the outdoor markets where food is displayed like art work. The shrimp are calibrated to fit into a design that is mouth watering as well as beautiful. The strawberries are red through and through and there is never a bad one in the bunch. We learned, however, not to touch the produce or the flowers--the French have their own way of doing things. I remember picking up a wrapped block of cheese and turning it over to see the price and all hell broke loose in the booth. We save spells like that in America for something more important than a piece of cheese. He lost a sale, but I learned a lesson. The flowers, too, seem so much prettier in Paris and the scent has not been bred out of the stock. Not everything is better in Paris, but the outdoor markets are at the top of the very best list. You have to shop early and carefully and when it is over, about 1:00, it's over! All of a sudden there are mountains of cast off produce with people picking over the freebies. They have, in fact, come to the market just for that. All of a sudden the street cleaning men in green arrive and an hour or two later everything is clean as a hound's tooth. Outdoor markets go on each week day in different parts of town. The venders move from place to place and they sell everything from pig's ears to knock of purses. I love the one at Bastille.