French life, like all life, has to revolve around the everyday some days.
Yesterday was one of those kind of days .
As much as I would like to gaze at beautiful surroundings and wile away the hours there are things to be done and they are the kind of things that can only happen at the French supermarche.
I am a shopper-in-bulk kind of home-maker. I like to open the pantry doors and see all the supplies that I need; I don’t want to race out and buy one lonesome item.
It must be a ‘living in the country’ quirk because when I am in the city I am the ‘Old Mother Hubbard’ with the bare cupboard kind of housekeeper.
The French supermarket was an eye opener for me.
I became acquainted with my first about fifteen years ago and have enjoyed the shopping experience ever since.
There are many different chains of supermarkets in France and like taste in fashion designers, there are favourites.
I am an Auchan girl; I don’t know why but that’s the one for me and in particular the one in Avignon. When I say Avignon, don’t worry….The supermarket is not smack bang in the middle of the Palais des Papes forecourt or jammed up against the medieval wall enclosing the old town. Auchan is discreetly tucked away in a shopping zone on the outskirts and sur le pont d’ Avignon is well and truly safe from renegade shopping trolleys.
The French supermarket is huge. So huge that the employees wear roller skates to scoot from one end to the other. So huge that if I wore trainers to push le chariot (I love that word, it makes the shopping trolley sound so imperial, so glam) it would be the equivalent to a sweat breaking workout. So huge that it is easy to be lost between aisles. So huge that it is a total day out and not the place to duck in for a loaf of bread or a pound of butter.
The French supermarket has everything you could ever imagine under one roof. For starters there are all the normal goods one comes to expect but at the French supermarket there is so much more. The fish, the cheese, the meat, the fruit and vegetables are sold in separate areas, market style. The wine and champagne selections are well priced and thoughtfully chosen. The maison et jardin section has plenty for the home ‘junkie’ like me. The computer, television and HiFi department makes supermarket shopping a joy for the boys. The kitchen ware would satisfy most amateur cooks and French Mr-Fix-It would be in home handyman heaven. At the French super market everyone is a winner.
To avoid temptation and come home with what you need rather than what you don’t is the trap for inexperienced players….but it is also the reason I like going.
My chariot was overflowing with the dull and uninspiring but I also managed to load up on a few engaging ‘non-essentials’….I like to think of those treats as ‘pay back’.
My supermarket shopping logic runs something like this….one item from the list and a little something not on the list… what’s not on my list is always so much more compelling. Supermarket shopping for the most part is a chore but not French style. The French supermarket is clever. She entices me in, tickles my taste buds, feeds my impulsiveness and satisfies my every homey whim.
She is a temptress I am afraid, xv.
