Market Day
In every town and village, Market Day is a mainstay of Italian life. Instead of herding the family into the car to head to the nearest department store (of which I’ve seen none except in Florence), parents open up the stroller, grab their recyclable shopping bags and head to the piazza on their village’s designated day. Here the merchants will have brought the store to town where the equivalent of an outside Target or Walmart is arrayed around the town square.
The vendors arrive early in their unique, souped up panel vans. One side of the van opens to allow a massive mechanical awning to unfurl. This canvas covering shelters the merchandise from the elements and provides a metal frame from which more merchandise is hung. Under each awning the vendors also set up racks for clothing or tables to display their wares.
Each “shop keeper” has a specialty. Some deal only with women’s clothing (per donne), others with menswear (per uomini). One vendor is a shoe store, another sells accessories like hats, scarves and/or jewelry. Do you need a new bathmat? Or perhaps a needle and thread and some fringe or ribbon for your latest sewing project? You’ll find these and more at the market.
At least one table will be the equivalent of the toiletries aisle in the supermarket. You can replenish your bathroom with necessities like deodorant , toothpaste, shampoo, soaps, etc. Some markets have what I think of as the Dollar Store mishmash- hairclips, clothespins, trash bags, combs, mixed in with the odd linen napkin or tablecloth.
With Italy’s worldwide reputation for fine leather (pelle) products, no market is complete without at least one display of handbags, belts and wallets in an assortment of colors. I never pass this booth without considering one of the large bags that hang overhead. I may still come home with a roomy pink or blue borsa to sling over my shoulder!
While I will browse all these “shops”, dodging bored kids who play the universal game of hiding among the clothing racks, and only make an occasional purchase, I always find something to buy from one of the food vendors.
The staples at the smaller markets like here in Panzano are one large fruit and vegetable vendor, one for cheese and cured meat and breads, another for olive oils, honey and condiments and a “roaster and fryer” on wheels!
I need to take a number (like at the deli counter) and gently elbow my way through the crowd to check out the offerings at the fruttivendolo tables. Here I usually replenish my supply of lettuce, tomatoes, lemons and some fruit. Now the cherries and baby watermelon are in season and irresistible. I almost always add a bunch of fennel (finocchio) and throw in whatever else looks good- asparagus, some peppers or an eggplant. You can always tell the tourists at this stand. Numbers are called in Italian and clueless shoppers will hold up their number each time a number is called until its their turn. There’s a cardinal rule at Italian food markets- you never handle the produce! You politely point or describe your request while the vendors dash around to collect the items, weighing each as everything is priced by the kilogram.
My market day shopping is not complete until I stop at the roasting truck. Here the windows into two ovens reveal dozens of sizzling chickens rotating on spits. Next to the ovens is the fry stand where the cook juggles baskets with a variety of treats. You pick a number here too. That’s a good thing because it gives you time to survey the bins of savory fare behind the glass shield to decide what tempts you today. After several weeks of taste tests I’ve settled on my two indulgent favorites- fried, bite size mozzarella balls that just explode into a juicy, stretchy treat- and battered verdura (vegetables)- think vegetable tempura with an Italian twist- artichokes, cauliflower, mushrooms. Yummy! A scoop of each in a little bag makes an indulgent Sunday lunch for a few euro.
In a carnivore’s bag you’ll find succulent chicken wings, a whole, half or quarter of a “fresh off the spit” roasted chicken or slices of roast pork laced with a fine mix of chopped herbs. Everyone enjoys a special lunch on market day. If you have room you can always top it off with a gelato from one of the bars on the square as you sit and people watch and listen to the church bells ring out the hour.
In Panzano, Sunday is Market Day but I often take the bus to Greve on Saturday when the vendors set up there. The piazza in Greve is at least four times the size of Panzano’s with that many more shops to browse. In fact so many vendors flood Greve on Market Day that the food trucks get their own separate piazza, a short walk from Piazza Matteotti, the main piazza.
Wherever you are in Italy, you have to take in at least one Market Day. There you can fill you your belly with treats and taste an authentic slice of Italian life!
