A few weeks ago I woke up super early to slip out of my apartment and avoid an awkward roommate situation. Since I had some time to kill before work, I decided to explore my neighborhood. In my exploration I discovered a huge outdoor market just a few blocks away, and vowed to come back when I could.
Today I went into work but didn't have a morning tour, so I decided to walk back from Vittorio Emanuele to my apartment near Furio Camillo. After some fantastic window shopping I came upon my market and dove right in.
First was the walk through. I really didn't plan on buying anything and just wanted to check it out. Rows of stalls filled with every kind of fruit and vegetable you can think of, and more you've never heard of. Jackets, shirts, underwear, toys, socks, espresso makers, pots, shoes, toilet paper and other random household items are readily available as well. Meat stalls sell veal, rabbit, tripe and other bits of animal I would never consider eating. Cheese booths display round wheels of parmigiano and huge soft balls of mozzarella sitting in water.
After a once-over of the market and all the colorful offerings, I remembered all I had sitting in my fridge was a tomato, some lettuce, and a yogurt. Common sense would say to just pick up some food items here, but my nerves were getting the best of me. Yes I confess, the market intimidates me. I never know how to act for the different shopkeepers. At the massive Trionfale market by my old apartment near the Vatican, some forbade you to touch the veggies yourself while others expected you to pick your own. A mistake could result in an angry old lady. It sounds silly, but I hate not knowing how to act and want to blend in these situations.
I didn't move alone to a foreign country to be intimidated by vegetables, so I observed the etiquette of a particularly fantastic stall and made my approach. After I grabbed a bag for my vegetables, I approached the tomatoes. I bypassed the shopkeeper yelling at an old man after the man asked him how much where the oranges. "Can't you read? The sign is right there. Read it, it's not hard. Oranges. There. See?" he rapidly chided in Italian. I decided not to ask this man any questions. I chose my vegetables and handed them to the scary man. Thankfully Italians love young ladies, so the only thing he yelled at me was "bella ragazza!"
I bought a few more things at the hectic market, and no one batted an eye at me. I didn't get any of those "where are you from" looks, and pretty much just blended. Success.
I ended up with: 4 beautiful, huge tomatoes.
some basil (my basil plant is hurting after some bad plant advice, so I'm giving him a rest)
2 eggplants
2 zucchini
a big hunk of some fantastic bread
All for 2.50. That is so much cheaper than the grocery store, I don't think I can ever justify going to the grocery store again. Unfortunately the market is only open in the morning and I usually work then, so I'm going to have to wake up earlier. Hmm.
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