Saint Remy market
Every Wednesday, areas of the old town of Saint Rémy fill with stalls just like the other markets dotted around regional France. There is something grounding about buying from the farmer who was up at dawn each day to coax his produce out of infanthood, through the maze of uncontrollable conditions dished up by the weather, to the perfect moment for harvest. Food is the focus of the markets but there are also clothes, Provençal fabric, linen and home wares.
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Rows of neatly packed vegetables form a rainbow-like display. Tomatoes of every size and shape were redder than Marilyn Monroe’s lips. You will find apricots with blushing cheeks and small squash a shade of yellow somewhere between that of lemon butter and Van Gogh’s sunflowers. Incidentally, Van Gogh loved the colours of St Remy and many of his paintings were inspired by his time here. They sit side by side in 1950s infant school desk regularity with their cousins, green courgettes that are so young they should still be with their mothers. Bright, shiny hues of indigo and violet bounce back from the taut shiny skins of aubergine. A sour dough baguette tempts the taste buds and caviar de tomate and fromage de chèvre call out to be eaten.