Stories for markets

Thessaloniki, the capital of Greek Macedonia and the country’s second largest metropolis after Athens, 500 km to the south, is a youth-loving, vibrant city that never sleeps – and always eats. Most locals here are friendly, laid-back, natural-born foodies who love going out and enjoying good wine and tsipouro. It’s a city with a very long history of culinary hospitality. Founded by King Cassandros in 315 BC and named after Thessalonike, his wife – half-sister of Alexander The Great – it’s referred to by Greeks as symprotevousa, “co-capital,” because of its historical status as a co-reigning city of the Byzantine Empire, along with Constantinople. In 1492 the city welcomed a large number of Jews expelled from the Iberian Peninsula.

Mexico’s Yucatán Peninsula was home to some of the most important Maya cities during pre-Hispanic times. One can still get a glimpse the glory of those cities in ruins such as at Chichen Itza, considered one of the seven wonders of the modern world. On the ruins of a smaller Mayan city, T’ho, the Spanish conquistadors founded Mérida in 1542; since then, the city has been the economic, cultural and gastronomic center of the Yucatán Peninsula. We visited the city recently and fell in love immediately. Thanks to its proximity to the harbor of Puerto Progreso and the importance of the henequen industry – which turned the fibers of a native agave plant into rope – Merida’s culture, economy and architecture grew dazzlingly from the 19th through the early 20th century.

As one approaches the central square of Kalyvia, a small village only 10 minutes from Athens International Airport, the irresistible smell of grilled meat fills the nostrils. The whole area is packed with traditional grill houses, and many Athenians will make the 45-minute drive just to enjoy a meal there. The oldest taverna and one of the most famous is Kollias, which still boasts the traditional butcher shop that gives these grill houses their Greek name (hasapotaverna, or “butcher taverna”). Anastasios Kollias opened the place in 1930 just up the road, but it gradually became too small to accommodate the growing clientele, so it took its current spot on the square in 1991.

In Shanghai, wet markets hold the telltale signs that spring is finally upon us. Stalks of asparagus as thick as a thumb spring up first, alongside brown and white bamboo shoots so freshly pulled from the earth that dirt still clings to their fibrous shells. But the most exciting spring green is fava beans (蚕豆, cándòu), also known as broad beans. Their short season in Shanghai – usually just about four to five weeks – means they’re in high demand, and stalls are filled with workers shelling the labor-intensive beans by the bushel.

So you’ve eaten your way around Shanghai’s delicious noodle shops and restaurants but want to bring a taste of China back home? Or maybe you’re searching for a weird food gift (pickled chicken feet anyone?) for a hard-to-please friend. You’re in luck, as specialty food shops dot the city and are quite popular with locals, offering a huge variety of well-packaged items.

A market with a million stories, the Mercado de la Merced lies sprawling across some 12 blocks in Mexico City, offering a mind-boggling array of goods, as it has for centuries. Operating in the northwest corner, next to the 17th-century Santo Tomás Apóstol La Palma church, is a 67-year-old association of dulcerías – purveyors of sweets and candies – with 154 stalls selling traditional goodies in elaborate and tantalizing displays. Willie Wonka would eat his heart out. According to the association’s president, Daniel Jiménez Chavarría, it is the only market of its kind in Latin America, and it is deeply ingrained in the traditions that thrive across Mexico. “What we sell is purely artisanal, and we are offering a different presentation,” said Jiménez, a silver-haired man with glasses, describing how these small stalls differ from their larger competitors.

While much of the West celebrates Christmas in an orgy of shopping for presents that climaxes after a single dinner, Georgians commemorate the season with a 30-day binge of feasts that pretty much begins on December 17, Saint Barbara’s Day (Barbaroba), and peters out by January 19, the Orthodox Epiphany (Natlisgeba). Unlike Americans, Georgians don’t consume stuff for the holidays – they annihilate food. The best, if not most chaotic, place to stock up on victuals is the Dezertirebi Bazroba (“Deserter’s Bazaar”). Located near Tbilisi’s central train station, this raw, disorganized, 2,000-square-meter warren of unprocessed agrarian pabulum is the city’s largest open-air market.

Rio de Janeiro didn’t need to be told to host colorful outdoor fresh food markets. The feira is a carioca tradition, with wooden booths going up overnight at their weekly locales and filled with wares so standard any local could recite for you off his head what you can and can’t find there. But with a little kick from the tools of the digital age and a hipster-era recalibration of the local palate, the Rio feira has gotten a particularly nice new edition. Junta Local brings together local producers and budding chefs in a biweekly, rotating-location food-fest, often accompanied by live music.

Dear Culinary Backstreets, I’ve heard about “wet markets,” but what are they exactly? And where can I find the best wet markets in Shanghai? Stocked with all the fresh produce and live seafood that hungry Shanghai residents could ever cook up, wet markets are an essential alternative to the brand-name supermarkets vying for their slice of the market share of the planet’s largest population. These markets are so named because the floor tends to be wet, thanks to the live fish flopping around and the vendors’ habit of throwing water on the ground to keep the area clean. They are, however, under constant pressure from the central government’s drive to urbanize the population and modernize facilities, which has led to the steady destruction of the more traditional ones.

Having been divvied up and overshadowed and even having come back from a nasty fire, the Mercado San Juan Arcos de Belén, also known as San Juan Salto del Agua, has hung on tight as a staple market in Mexico City’s downtown. Born from the 1950s-era split-up of the original San Juan marketplace, which stood only a few blocks away in what is now the Plaza San Juan off of Ayuntamiento, this is a very budget-friendly market in Mexico City’s downtown, largely bereft of high-end delicacies but bustling with mostly working-class families. It is shouldered by two major traffic conduits, Eje Central and Arcos de Belén, and sits atop the two-line intersection of Metro Salto del Agua on the forest-green and pink lines.

Comprising a city within a city made of housing complexes and self-built neighborhoods, the Maré favela complex in Rio’s North Zone packs 130,000-plus residents into the area between the Avenida Brasil highway and Guanabara Bay, just south of Rio’s International Airport.

Stretching 25 feet alongside a pharmacy in the heart of Istanbul's Şişli district, just a three-minute stroll from Osmanbey metro station (Pangaltı exit), lies Uğur’s fruit and vegetable stand. Day in and day out, come rain or shine, Uğur sits and smiles, utterly engulfed by the fruits and vegetables he sells. Hundreds of people stop by his stand every day: family, old childhood friends, local politicians, tourists.

From 6 a.m., Tuesdays through Sundays, over 500 customers – from housewives to Michelin-starred restaurateurs – stream into a two-story, tile-front fish market in working-class Ponta d’Areia, a neighborhood in Niteroi, across Guanabara Bay from Rio de Janeiro. Since 2 a.m., stall owners have been out greeting fishing boats at docks across the city, where captains return from four- to 10-day trips along Brazil’s southeast coast, up to the Lake Region (Região dos Lagos, which includes the cities of Maricá, Saquarema and Cabo Frio, still in Rio de Janeiro state) and south to the state coastlines of São Paulo, Paraná and Santa Catarina.

Among the regions of Mexico that are best known for their culinary wealth, Puebla is near the top. Approximately 100 kilometers east of Mexico City, Puebla is the birthplace of chiles en nogada, mole poblano (probably the most recognized Mexican mole worldwide) and cemitas, a knockout sandwich made with the bread of the same name.

On recent visits to Madrid, we’ve noticed that a new breed of food market has taken hold of the city’s attention. While the traditional kind with food stalls slowly disappears, vibrant, culture-focused gastromarkets are booming. In addition to great food, they offer a mix of businesses, along with cooking demos, live music, exhibitions – the list goes on. In 2009, the private society El Gastródomo de San Miguel refurbished a beautiful building that was built in 1916 and located very close to Plaza Mayor. It was opened as the “culinary space” Mercado de San Miguel. Though the initial inspiration was Barcelona’s La Boquería, San Miguel is utterly different, with its own colorful, unique personality. The market is dedicated not just to selling quality seasonal foods, but also to allowing visitors to enjoy them in situ, at tables and chairs distributed throughout common areas. They can choose from cod, fresh shellfish and other seafood, various vermuts, pickles and olives, paella, churros, Spanish wines, international beers, delicious Iberian ham and cured sausages and cheeses, ice cream and non-Spanish items, such as pasta or sushi. Unsurprisingly, the concept has been a hit, and other similarly styled markets have since popped up around the city.

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