THE FRENCH MARKET

            The first time I went to Paris, too long ago to cite here, my then wife and I had a rather late evening – actually an early morning – and we wound up at Les Halles located in the first arrondissement. It was a place surrounded by little cafes who served piping hot coffee and onion soup to die for. The location was there from the twelfth century until they demolished it in late 1971.  To see the butchers in their bloody smocks hustling around the large tables, cleaving their dead animals, live chickens, produce, and every kind of seafood imaginable, was something I’ll remember all my life. It was the world’s quintessential marketplace. Every restaurateur in Paris bought their fresh ingredients from the merchant stalls in Les Halles and served it to their customers that very day.

            The first time I want to the French Market in New Orleans – it dates from 1791 – I was much younger than my first time in Paris, but was similarly impressed with the fresh produce, seafood, meats, and other food products on display. Many of the New Orleans restaurant owners could also be found perusing the display exhibits to maintain their high standards on a daily basis much like they did in Les Halles. It was a wonderful experience to walk through the market as the smells from the stalls wafted through the air, and the sounds of laughter emanating from the vendors selling their food resonated throughout the building.

            Today I returned to the French Market and found one of the most disappointing things since returning to live in the city. All of the produce sellers are gone, except for an extremely small exhibit of a few tomatoes and some anemic cucumbers stuck at the end of the market as if they were selling the Black Plague at bargain prices. Replacing all the food vendors were a sea of T-shirt, cheap jewelry, and even cheaper clothing splayed out on tables with hundreds of people milling about, oohing and awing about how magnificent- or in this case, “cool” – all the awful stuff was.

            What happened in Paris with the demise of Les Halles was replicated in New Orleans. At least in Paris the replacement shopping center is nicely kept with fairly nice merchandise, not this crap on display in our French Market. I think the city has of late abandoned calling it the French Market as I understand it is now officially known as the Flea Market. I was worried as I meandered through the center of the buildings that I might be assaulted by the pesky flea if I brushed up against one of those odious displays.