We hit up the market again last Sunday, which is always an exciting and overwhelming experience. For anyone who loves to cook, it’s like being a kid in a candy store. The French take fresh food seriously, and market day is like a religion. Hoards of people swarm and push and wander through as venders yell, then yell louder. God knows what the hell they are saying, but it certainly pumps up the enthusiasm. It’s said that most of the time, the French just go to the market to see what to buy, then figure out what to make later. The trick, though, is finding those guys who are actually local farmers, not just some schmo who imports most of his stuff. We finally found a stand touting a huge homemade sign saying they were from Normandy, and we had to go back almost a full booth’s length just to get in line. Long line. They must be good. We stocked up on apples, pears, a cooking pumpkin, potatoes, carrots, and some lettuce (yes, the items we actually know how to say which can be a limiting factor at times) then pointed to the leeks. We keep seeing everyone buy these things, and we’re thinking, what the heck do you do with those? But hey, if these food savvy locals dig ‘em, then they must be good, right? We bought the last of their stock, and the girl laughed at us as she taught us how to say it in French. ‘poireau’. It’s a tricky one. So for anyone wondering, it’s like a big fragrant green onion, and god does it smell good. I recently made some potato/leek soup that was to die for….definitely good comfort food for a cold rainy/snowy day. Give it a try, let me know what you think.