Instead of going to a restaurant, Nick goes to market this week — as is his habit here in the Languedoc. I am still not sure what it was that induced me to stop for the very first time at the Chez Gaston stand in the Place Carnot in Carcassonne, south-west France, where the open food market takes place on Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday mornings.
Was it the photograph of Gaston Hachay himself, smiling and dressed most fashionably in the style of the s? Or perhaps it was the sheer number of different items that Chez Gaston then sold. Anchovies; confit lemons; cashews, the best I have ever tasted, as well as pistachios and pine nuts, so important for any sauce; many, many, different dried fruits, particularly plump raisins; the bottles of different olive oil.
In total, I discovered that there are about different foodstuffs on sale just at the Chez Gaston stand. It could have been the name, however. Gaston is not only unquestionably French but is also a name that inspires confidence and trust. Or it could have been the bonhomie associated with any panoply of good things to eat.
But I will never forget what brought me back to Chez Gaston. I scurried back to discover that I had left my wallet behind! Since then, we have become friends and I make a mental note to stop at Chez Gaston whenever we first arrive in the region. This is not just because this stall sells all the items that form the essential ingredients for cooking in this region of France — the olive oil, the confit lemons, the anchovies, the pine nuts — but also because it sells so many items that form a very generous and satisfying first course.
My style of cooking changes once we are here in the Languedoc. Carbohydrates seem less important; dessert is invariably a variation on one of the superlative local soft fruits: apricots, peaches, nectarines, and greengages later in the summer, which are invariably dirt cheap; and it is au revoir to having to think of a first course.
