When I woke up today it was 29 already, at 8 am. Its going to be hot!
Of course, that didn’t stop me from going on my weekly Monday shop. I do this religiously when visiting my mother. I am not sure what the markets of Berlin have in store for me? Kohlrabi I guess… I am sure that this is a misunderstood vegetable, even deciding how to spell it puts my mind in a muddle, let alone how to eat it.
No Kohlrabi today…
Just 3 heads of garlic, from the garlic man with the plastic flowers in a pot. I trek to the end of the market whatever the weather to get these wonderful alliums! I even took some back to London with me last time I was here. Why do I pass endless garlic sellers just to buy this old mans stuff? He caught my attention a couple of months back when he gave my baby a clove of garlic for luck and insist I try his wares. 3 bulbs for 1 Euro. I was intrigued that he only sells garlic, surely that must mean he is a garlic specialist. And he is! The cloves have a certain translucency and even though they certainly taste of garlic, the taste does not linger on your breath.
I then made the obligatory stop at the tomato man. He never needs to yell to hawk his orbs. His stand is swarming with retirees, jostling their metal carts and trying to get the good stuff. Its a symbol of the Meditaranean that they all squeeze past his table to the stacked plastic crates behind to get “the good tomatoes”, seemingly oblivious that the man is constantly replenishing his stand with tomatoes from this very exclusive stash. He is raking in the money though, so his humor is good and he doesn’t chastise the buyers as other sellers might.
Next I stopped at the fish stand and bought some Gavros. I used to order this fish as a child and eat it, head tail and all! But sadly, restaurants are not what they once were. The humble tzatziki, the calling card of any descent Greek restaurant, is usually watery, under salted and is often so old that the grated cucumber had pickled. Ugh! The shame! Before I betray my years (only 34 actually)
with more lamenting over the demise of the Greek restaurant, let me get to the point. I refuse to pay upwards of 14 Euro for some flabby Gavros complete with their bitter entrails when I can clean them myself and have them tonight for dinner, with my delicious and fresh tzatziki!
And lastly, although I didn’t buy any, I did take a snap on my Blackberry of the “Aromes Bananes” guy.