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Many markets serve some of the deep sea's most tantalizing treasures like the briny barnacles — percebes — at La Boqueria in Barcelona, also the spot to taste Jabugo ham, the world's best air-cured pork. Budapest's Central Market Hall offers de facto crash courses in the wonders of paprika, peppered pork and the soothing biscuits called pogasca.
But such practical pleasures may be the least of the lures. Attending this living theater, one can assess the local economy by noting the quality and variety of foods available and compare prices to our own. One can observe how locals treat one another. Are sellers and buyers polite and trusting as they deal under intense pressure — the first to sell out highly perishable merchandise, the second to get the best value for family, shop or restaurant?
Is there much bargaining, as in the vociferous 700-year-old Vucciria and even older Ballarò markets of Palermo where giant swordfish heads are displayed swords up on fish counters, or in the seductively fragrant spice markets like the exotic 17th-century Misir Carsisi (Egyptian Bazaar) in Istanbul, or in Khan el-Khalili in Cairo or the Levinksy in Tel Aviv, where oiled, claylike paprika is sculptured into towering cones that defy both breezes and the exuberant hand-waving of haggling buyers and sellers? (Theoretically passé, bargaining endures, an entertaining game few habitués would relinquish.)
Or might the mores dictate truly one-price-only with no fear of heavy thumbs on scales, as at Helsinki's romantic morning harbor market, where you can find tiny almond-flavored potatoes, golden cloudberries, varieties of fresh herring, and smoked reindeer tongue, depending on the season. Or in Munich's outdoor Viktualienmarkt. Bordered by shops selling meat, fresh, smoked and pickled fish, this is a nosher's haven with many a schnell imbiss, or quick snack stand, for the hot liver pâté, leberkäse and morning weisswurst washed down with potent, lemon-sparked Munich weissbier.
In my experience, the world's most spectacular market is in Tokyo, the Central Wholesale Market, a k a Tsukiji, or, more accurately perhaps, Fish City. This cavernous sprawl, indoors and out, is on the banks of the Sumidagawa River, and is curtained with mist as action begins at about 3 a.m. Raining or not (and it often is) boots and slickers are in order, for if the morning dew doesn't dampen you, the hoses that continuously keep concrete floors and counters airily fresh surely will. At outdoor entrance stands, small live mollusks and crustaceans bubble and sizzle in running aerated water, and piles of gnarled octopus look like so much amethyst quartz.
Among the staggering aquarium array of brain food — some five million pounds daily — the star is tuna. The less flavorful varieties from such warm waters as the Indian Ocean are frozen whole and laid out like snowy fighter planes on an airfield. Tails are sliced off so potential buyers can examine cut ends to judge the quality mark of fat, all suggesting piscatorial proctologists diligently at work. Bluefin tuna is the prize at the auction, held around 5 a.m. The lightning-fast, voiceless bidding relies on rock-paper-scissors sort of hand movements.
But such practical pleasures may be the least of the lures. Attending this living theater, one can assess the local economy by noting the quality and variety of foods available and compare prices to our own. One can observe how locals treat one another. Are sellers and buyers polite and trusting as they deal under intense pressure — the first to sell out highly perishable merchandise, the second to get the best value for family, shop or restaurant?
Is there much bargaining, as in the vociferous 700-year-old Vucciria and even older Ballarò markets of Palermo where giant swordfish heads are displayed swords up on fish counters, or in the seductively fragrant spice markets like the exotic 17th-century Misir Carsisi (Egyptian Bazaar) in Istanbul, or in Khan el-Khalili in Cairo or the Levinksy in Tel Aviv, where oiled, claylike paprika is sculptured into towering cones that defy both breezes and the exuberant hand-waving of haggling buyers and sellers? (Theoretically passé, bargaining endures, an entertaining game few habitués would relinquish.)
Or might the mores dictate truly one-price-only with no fear of heavy thumbs on scales, as at Helsinki's romantic morning harbor market, where you can find tiny almond-flavored potatoes, golden cloudberries, varieties of fresh herring, and smoked reindeer tongue, depending on the season. Or in Munich's outdoor Viktualienmarkt. Bordered by shops selling meat, fresh, smoked and pickled fish, this is a nosher's haven with many a schnell imbiss, or quick snack stand, for the hot liver pâté, leberkäse and morning weisswurst washed down with potent, lemon-sparked Munich weissbier.
In my experience, the world's most spectacular market is in Tokyo, the Central Wholesale Market, a k a Tsukiji, or, more accurately perhaps, Fish City. This cavernous sprawl, indoors and out, is on the banks of the Sumidagawa River, and is curtained with mist as action begins at about 3 a.m. Raining or not (and it often is) boots and slickers are in order, for if the morning dew doesn't dampen you, the hoses that continuously keep concrete floors and counters airily fresh surely will. At outdoor entrance stands, small live mollusks and crustaceans bubble and sizzle in running aerated water, and piles of gnarled octopus look like so much amethyst quartz.
Among the staggering aquarium array of brain food — some five million pounds daily — the star is tuna. The less flavorful varieties from such warm waters as the Indian Ocean are frozen whole and laid out like snowy fighter planes on an airfield. Tails are sliced off so potential buyers can examine cut ends to judge the quality mark of fat, all suggesting piscatorial proctologists diligently at work. Bluefin tuna is the prize at the auction, held around 5 a.m. The lightning-fast, voiceless bidding relies on rock-paper-scissors sort of hand movements.
Wear boots, and old clothes
Still on her list are several markets in sub-Saharan Africa:
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Most alluring now because they are so little known are the food markets of sub-Saharan Africa, most especially the Merkato in Addis Ababa, one of the largest food markets on the continent described most alluringly by Marcus Samuelsson in his cookbook “The Soul of a New Cuisine: A Discovery of the Foods and Flavors of Africa” (Wiley, 2006). Others on an African agenda should include the orderly, prosperous, covered Nairobi City Market in Kenya and, for contrast, the teeming, poorer wholesale Saidiyeh market in Zanzibar, Tanzania, where bright fruits and rooty vegetables are scattered on the cloth-covered ground.
Green Dragon Market, Fridays only, 955 North State St, Ephrata, Pennsylvania, 17522
