Surrounding the Gare du Midi in Brussels you find Europe's largest market (in the matter of surface area). I used to go there every Sunday during summer and fall. Now during winter it's too cold.
Going there feels so un-Swedish. People are shouting, "Oranges oranges 2 euro le kilo 2 euro le kilo pas chère pas chère!!!". The mix of people: lost tourists, kids running around your legs, old ladies with their rolling bags rolling them over your toes making you burst out an "ouch" that quickly disappears into the noisy busy crowd.
It's a place to discover with all five senses: smell the wonderful thousands of smells; see all the bright colors of green, red, yellow, purple, and orange; touch the fruits and vegetables to pick the best ones; let you be guided to the cheapest stand by listening to the prices shouted out; and get to taste everything before you buy it.
Things very fast become habitual.
There's the watermelon guy always shouting the most, making me wonder if he has any voice left when Monday comes. There's the fruit stands in the middle where the little kids are running and climbing on the large piles of fruit to pick you the exact fruits you ask for. The Italian baker which you have to go to before 11, or he's run out of everything. There are the delicious little pâtisseries filled with vanilla cream soft as a cloud melting instantaneously in your mouth, and the large breads filled with olives, tomatoes and basil that are good enough for a whole dinner.
While going back from the Italian to the other side of the market you pass by the Spanish corner. It's a little tapas bar with a couple of bar tables placed outside. The Latin music is streaming out from the outside speakers and the discussions are lively, beers are being emptied, and you stop for a second to remind yourself that it's morning in Brussels, not evening in Madrid.
So after picking up some fruit from the little climbing boys, and getting my weekly dose from the Italian I pick up some vegetables and fresh herbs. Oh the herbs. What a smell. Tables drowning under masses of fresh herbs every 20 metres. Coriander, mint, parsley... A couple of bouquets, paying about 50 cents for a handful, and some fresh ginger and lime fruits...
When the blood sugar is getting low you stop by one of the tens of tens of fruit stands and treat yourself with some free tasting. Wondering off and continuing with some new found energy you stop yourself in the western corner. Mmm....the smells! It is here you find the little oyster and wine stand. It’s just a guy in a little van serving marinated oysters and ice cold white wine. Even at 10 o'clock all his 5 tables are full!
There are three more stands to be visited now. A quick stop by the cheese girls to taste ALL their different parmesans and pecorinos to decide the choices for this week. Then to the fish and sea food van for some newly caught fish perfect for Sunday dinner. Finally, on my way out from the market to head home, a quick stop to buy some "Arabic bread" is a must. A bread more soft and tasty then I've ever tasted!
All of you who know how crazy I am about food, probably understand this almost religious experience for me. It's always the same day of the week, same place, same time, and same people standing at the same place. But every time you take up a melon to smell if it's ripe it smells different, and every time you stop to taste some watermelon it tastes different. Not better, not worse, just different. You do the same thing every Sunday, but you get a new wonderful experience, every time.
And you know what; it's much cheaper than in the grocery stores!
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