Grocery Shopping at the Market… always an experience

The result of my random adventures at the San Lorenzo Market!

I went to the San Lorenzo Market Tuesday after cooking class to pick up some fresh vegetables. I wandered around the market stopping at each stand to check out the selection, not really knowing what I wanted to buy. I had my eye on one particular container of strawberries however! I was planning on baking a special dessert with fresh fruit topping that night. Apparently it is not customary in Italy to pick out vegetables and fruit with your bare hands. In the Conad grocery stores for example you have to wear plastic gloves to pick your veggies out. So I pointed to the bunch of strawberries I wanted and of course they were the farthest away and nearly impossible to reach. {Those were the best of the bunch though I am telling you! ;-) } So she grabbed a container of strawberries near the ones I wanted, which happened to be much smaller and less red then the ones I had my eye on. I was told in cooking class to be direct and let them know exactly what you want, so I shook my head and pointed to the ones I wanted originally but they were just out of her reach. She mumbled something in Italian, shock her head, through her arms in the air and decided she didn’t want to sell me anything! Somewhat embarrassed about how much of a “picky American” I was being, I told her id take the ones in her hand. Something that has really been pounded into my head this semester is the fact that Americans are impatient, picky and apparently don’t understand the fact that all fruit is the same from one box to the next. It's not like in the US where you have to check your eggs before you buy them and make sure your apple isn’t bruised. So I took my less red and much smaller strawberries and kept moving. I came to the booth where I always buy potatoes. The man there is always very helpful so I bought 4-euro worth of potatoes for a thanksgiving treat.

An older, very Italian gentleman ran the last booth I stopped at last. I pointed to the green pepper I wanted and not being able to remember the word for pepper, all I got out in Italian was “Verde” (green). He laughed and put it in a bag for me. I smiled and jokingly shook my finger at him saying, “don’t make fun of my poor Italian!” Grinning from ear to ear, he pinched my cheek and handed me the bag. “Basta?” He said. “Si, basta” I replied, which pretty much means, “yes that’s enough.” Getting my money out, I spotted a nice bunch of Kiwis on the end and I asked him for a few of those also! Then I said, “Basta, Io sono finito” (Enough, I am finished) I gave the cute old man my money and walked away satisfied with my purchase. I looked down at the bag he had handed me and noticed that there was lettuce and some red root looking thing in it! I swung around and went back to his booth to tell him that he had handed me the wrong bag. He just smiled and said, “SI MANGIA, MANGIA!!” Which means YOU EAT EAT!!  
He pinched my cheek and gave me free veggies!! isn’t he sooo sweet!! I smiled, shook his hand and said Grazie mille!!

As difficult as Italians can be sometimes, most of them are such warm people and always seem to make me smile.  When I go to the San Lorenzo Fresh Market, (which by the way, is different from the outdoor market with all the leather.) I speak more Italian there than anywhere else; I meet the nicest locals and always leave with the best fresh produce!