SAVOIE

This is the region of Michelin stars and luxury. Where holiday makers come to the snowy mountains to be pampered and treated like a celebrity. Chalets of the highest standard and beautifully plated food that almost looks too good to be touched. Masterpieces on a plate and creations made by the most skilled and talented chefs. Recognition is key here. Yes this sounds wonderful, and believe me it is, you cannot deny it, but this is not my Savoie.

I go to the local market every Tuesday morning in Le Place Saint-Pierre et des Victoires in Moutiers. The men and women show so much passion for their produce that to not be inspired and taken aback in awe by them is almost an impossibility.

As I arrive in the marketplace and push my way through the bustle of the shoppers, deciding where I will start, I realize I have been swallowed up by the colours and the smells. It feels as though I have been spun round with the tradition twirling itself all                                                                        around me like a fairground ride.

It’s wonderful getting back to the basics and seeing the produce in its natural form, in old wooden crates fresh from the farm. It’s so easy to get caught up in the whirlwind of the exquisite restaurants that at times I need to be brought back down to earth and humbled.

 

I chat to a local cheese maker, who stands proudly at his stall overlooking the array of fromage he has on offer today. The huge Beaufort wheels are incredible to see, especially placed next to the cute baby Tomme cheeses he has delicately placed out. Until coming to France cheese was never my thing. Almost favouring the bland and the rubbery. But as I stand admiring the selection, I am eager for my own private tasting. These days I cannot get enough of it, and would never have believed I would have become one of those preaching “the smellier the better!” He tells me he makes them all himself in the Laiterie in his village. He has a photo frame hanging up of himself leaning into a huge churner, I’m amazed he produces all of this up in his tiny mountain village, inside I wish I could ask him if I could come visit, but I never do! Maybe I will be brave enough to ask next week! Today I am happy to settle for buying a large chunk of Reblochon, which is famous in these parts! The excellent quality local Reblochon come from the meadow grazing Alp cows of the Savoie region and will complete any traditional Savoyarde meal making it’s perfect sweet nuttiness ideal for the skiing institution of Fondue or Raclette. There are some children giggling and chattering away to each other while their mother looks deep in thought at the counter. I peek over the children’s heads and see them poking and prodding at a little red wooden cow. From now on this is the image I keep of these magical Alpine cows.

Armed with my cheese, I head towards the fruit and vegetables. The rickety old boxes and crates are filled with vibrant colours. Rows and rows of different produce, some looking like they have just been pulled straight out of the ground. I notice an old washing basket packed with carrots, still partially brown from the earth and dirt and with a beautiful dusting of snow all over. I imagine the old lady in her farm filling whatever she can get hold of with her freshly grown vegetables. It’s amazing to see. Over on a shelf some bright glass bottles catch my eye, I move closer to find out what they are, I have never seen them before on this stall. On closer look I realize that the ‘shelf’ is in fact two old drawers from a wooden cupboard, it makes me instantly smile, and neatly placed in it are bottles and bottles of soups, juices and sauces freshly pressed and cooked the night before from the fruit and vegetables on offer today. Nothing can get better than that.

A man walks past me dressed in a pink shirt and a black beret carrying a large jambon, a huge leg of cured ham, which when finely sliced is delicious and light. I have always wanted to buy the huge leg to carve away at at home whenever I’m feeling peckish but this is an art in itself and I don’t believe he would be impressed to see me hacking away at it with a kitchen knife so I stick to letting his skilled self do the slicing! I follow him back to his stall to see what else he has out today. It seems that today is about sausages. They are hanging above him while he hums to himself as he hooks up his leg of jambon. This couldn’t look more French if I had imagined it up in my head. Next to the sausages are what I am more interested in. Hanging up and in perfectly placed piles are the saucisson. Cured meat which comes in every variety you could possibly imagine. These solid rustic and rather aged looking sausages are what I couldn’t live without here. The flavours are inspired and appetizing and can range from anything from wild boar to blueberry, and to peppercorn coated to even ash flavoured. Some sound bizarre but I know not be put off as they are packed with rich, rounded flavours and the texture is firm. I am told that all their saucisson are traditionally made in one of the oldest ‘Salaisons’ in the region. I don’t doubt this for a second, as having tried many varieties in regions throughout France, the ones produced here are better than I have tasted anywhere else. 

Before I’m off home, I make one last minute dash to grab a baguette, rustic and crusty is all they do, no fancy choices or elaborate designs, just proper long French loaves. The type that by tomorrow morning will be stale, but with bread this simple and fresh, why would I have any left by morning?

The buzz of this market and the passion of the 

producers and growers are what make this market and what draws me here. The love and hard work that is put into everything I see here is shining for everyone to see. From the local people who make their weekly shopping 

 here to the curious tourists wondering why this region is so famed for their food. There is no surprise of the level of excellence in the restaurants high up in the mountain resorts, because with produce like this, having a Michelin starred menu or a basic homemade meal you know you are eating food how it was always meant to be. Pure, undamaged and made with passion and skill. My weekly market visit is one of pure anticipation, as there is no guarantee what will be on offer, that’s the pleasure of this market; the familiar faces of the sellers always stay the same but as the season moves on so does the produce.