The Magnetism of Markets
A chefs smorgasbord of ingredients
Chefs love food markets. Aside from the obvious draw of the smorgasbord of ingredients, they are a rare time away from the pressured confines of the kitchen to simply amble about and take in the smells, the sounds, the array of products not found anywhere else. A chance to just explore, meander and get new ideas at a leisurely pace.
Markets of course have an attraction to all, not just foodies. A chance to bump into friends or neighbours, to escape the banal aisles of the supermarkets. A way to fill a couple of hours at the weekend.
North Canterbury offers us several long-standing farmers markets, Ohoka, Oxford, Amberley and others.
My weekly choice is the expansive Friday Ohoka market. It has the size and variety that to me is the nearest copy of the markets I enjoyed when working in Italy and France. I never leave there without sampling the Italian cheese in the little red cheese cart, Emilio’s. Fabulous authentic old European style crafted delicacies that I don’t find anywhere else.
I love the subtle aroma of espresso from the coffee carts there coupled with the draw of the sizzling bacon sandwiches and the eclectic weekly turns of whomever is the guest musician of the week.
Markets give a weekly window of togetherness that you will never get from a supermarket nor a stroll down the high street.
They are a magnet to kitchen dwellers and wannabe chefs. A pied piper with gazebos. There is a raw honesty to them. The producers face to face with the consumer. This is no hiding place for average produce. If you are an artisan local producer, then this is where you bring your ‘A’ game. You front up and sell both yourself and your wares.
Similarly, in my restaurant experience you get the same reformatory perfectionism from chefs in an open plan kitchen where the customers are right there in view of the kitchen.
Hide a gang of motley cooks backstage behind swing doors and there is often an indifference, a lackadaisical gap between their work on a plate and the final unseen, anonymous consumer.
So it is with the market artisans. They front up there and then each week before you. Proud of their ideas, their craftsmanship and labour of love.
You can often discover extrovert characters and personalities behind some stands. The confidant and theatrical vendors, those with a cheeky discourse, a way to grab passing attention to their stall.
I have seen this taken to another level entirely at the Pike Place fish market in Seattle. I would implore anyone who’s has not witnessed those entertaining fishmongers to look it up online and see how these chaps have taken a boring fresh-fish stall into a world-famous side show.
Other countries display different styles of market. As mentioned, I still view the weekend pop up markets in Italy to be the gold standard. Usually set up on Saturdays in the central piazzas surrounded by exquisite ancient architecture. The slow crafted whole hams, salamis and charcuterie dangling on strings and the constant attention grabbing heckles from vendors.
Compare those images with that of an ancient middle east souk. I needed a whole week to fully explore the oldest bazaar in the world – in Baghdad. The Shorjah souk, still going since 750 AD and spread over acres of riverbank alongside the Tigris, near the city’s old quarter. My visit there was so captivating to the five senses. Huge vats of olives and pickles, piles of dates and colourful spices. Scented joss sticks with aromas I’d never encountered before, or since.
Walking the crowded indoor alleys of stalls shoulder to shoulder with bearded clergy, rifle toting soldiers and black cloaked womenfolk. Gold toothed Bedouin elders and astute looking Armani suited buyers from Iran, the gulf states and beyond.
There I saw similarities too within the old markets of Jerusalem and North Africa, but Baghdad’s market is still etched in my memory.
In Christchurch the new Riverside market has already become a crowd pleaser. I like it, the design and feel is spot on, but in my eyes it does nudge too close to trying to be a food court rather than a market proper. You can stumble across some exceptional quality stalls there and I’m never disappointed when I make the effort to visit.
For this part of the South Island, I really think we punch above our weight when it comes to weekly markets, and I’d like to close off here by tipping my chef hat to all the artisan producers out there, from me – I say a huge thank you.
Dean Sanders
www.deanchef.co.nz
