Yes, yes, I know that part of the dream of moving to France is all based around the weekly market....

But I have to say I still hanker to go to one of those huge supermarkets where you can buy everything, newspaper on the entry, paracetamol in the pharmacy bit... all in one trolley and off home again smart-ish (better still, Internet shopping with home delivery, which incidentally hasn't made it to my area of the Languedoc yet). 

But, for the sake of my French man and his taste-buds (they are I have to say, unsullied by excess alcohol and late night curries like mine), I have to steel myself for the hustle and bustle of Sommieres market each Saturday morning (or Calvisson market Sunday morning - our favourite markets) and I go on the promise of an English newspaper and a glass or two of rose in compensation.

You see, the thing is, we have to visit exactly the right stall in the market for the right product and this takes time, love and patience.

• This time of the year, we just cannot buy strawberries from anywhere else than the stall which is next to the Delices du Liban Restaurant in Sommieres - the friendly chap there tries out his English on me each week (he knows by now I'm not a fly-by-night tourist) and his berries aren't those absolutely perfect in size and shape you find in plastic containers elsewhere. His are picked by hand, not sprayed with chemicals and are just delicious - just how they are meant to taste in fact... you know, in the old days when you were a kid. By the way, don't buy any strawberries that aren'tGarriguettes - you are just wasting your money (my Frenchman's opinion ...)
• Melons: the Frenchman doesn't think anything is worth considering unless it's a Charantaise melon and when you put the end to your nose there is a wonderful strong smell of ripeness..... and don't buy too soon in the season - again, a waste of money - we just love it when the end of the season arrives and you can buy 3 melons for Euro1, as they just can't get rid of them quick enough, on those side of the road stalls. Fantastic with a slice ofjambon de montagne or a splash of Muscat de Lunel.
  
• Cheese: Well, here's the thing - what kind of cheese do you want?  Goats' cheese in various hardness'? - join the lengthy queue in front of the Delicesdu Liban - she's the first one there in the morning and the last to leave after everybody's finished their lunch - this woman is a miracle - she doesn't stop - she remembers your preferences (ours is something piquant!) and my toddler each week polishes off herdegustation saucer so temptingly left right under our noses (she couldn't dream of letting you buy something without tasting it first.) She's been coming as long as everybody can remember. 

• Meat: At the market, get up early at this barbecuing time of the year all those lamb chops disappear fast. The merguez are fantastic - mix with half a dozen chipolatas. Buy those 2kg bags for Euro20 and split them up into manageable portions and freeze the rest for next weekend. Or go to your local small butcher - in fact, don't whatever you do, (in my Frenchman's opinion) buy meat from the supermarket, there is no taste comparison.
• General fruit and veg: look for those 'producteur' stalls - not ones with all the produce possible on them... pick and choose your stalls and veg.  Those with a small number of products are the ones 'home grown' - well, near enough home grown.  Take your time to look and find them, it'll be worth it.
  

On a final note, when we shop with my French in-laws (they live in the Bordeaux suburbs) again, they have their preferred stalls - they are so well known there (in fact when I've been there with little Alicia, my 2 year old, the stall holders even note that she has a strong family resemblance to her grandma and comment on it... I was stunned to get such personalised service!)

When we're in Bordeaux, they NEVER cook their meat on anything other than the charcoal barbecue - yes, even when it's raining in January - Grandad is outside with an umbrella with the immense stone chimney-ed barbecue which is in the centre of the garden taking pride of place. Don't even mention using a gas barbecue - it's total sacrilege and your meat will just taste of soot! (a terrible Anglo-Saxon invention!)