If you want to understand how Parisians live, spend a little time grocery shopping. Better yet, spend two months doing it every day, as Barb and I have during our Paris stay. You'll discover that buying food is about more than filling a refrigerator. It's about freshness, flavor, and enjoying the everyday rituals of life.

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Shopping for food in Paris is different. Very different.

Americans often shop once a week, sometimes once every two weeks. We stock up, fill our refrigerators and freezers, and prepare for the days ahead. Here in Paris, Barb and I shop almost every day, sometimes twice a day. So do many Parisians.

I once explained to a Parisian friend that many American households have a large refrigerator, a separate freezer, and sometimes even a second refrigerator.

She looked at me with genuine bewilderment.

“Pourquoi?” she asked.

Why?

I had to admit I didn't have a very good answer.

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Freshness Is the Point

In America, food is big business, built around production, distribution, convenience, and efficiency. In France, the neighborhood shopping experience seems much more focused on freshness and flavor.

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In Paris, our produce market restocks twice a day. The boulangerie (bakery) across the street bakes fresh baguettes twice daily. And the last time I visited the seafood market, the fishmonger had just filleted the fish I was about to buy.

My friend's question suddenly made sense. Why buy enough food to last two weeks when you can buy fresh ingredients for tonight's dinner?

French supermarkets are businesses, too, of course. But shopping locally encourages a different relationship with food. You buy what's fresh, what's in season, and what you plan to eat soon.

And you don't need a refrigerator the size of a small automobile to do it.

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From Mega Mart to the Neighborhood Market

I spent most of my adult life on Chicago's North Side, where supermarkets were relatively compact. Then I moved to the suburbs and made my first trip to a megamarket

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I was stunned.

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The place was so enormous I wondered whether they offered a trolley or bus service to get shoppers from Home Goods to Baked Goods.

Shopping in our Paris neighborhood is entirely different. We have a small produce market, a fishmonger, and a neighborhood bakery. We also have grocery stores for everything else.

Instead of making one enormous weekly expedition, we take short trips to pick up what we need. We get to know the shopkeepers, recognize familiar faces, and practice a little French along the way.

We're not just visiting Paris. We're living here.

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Tomatoes That Taste Like Tomatoes

My friend Liz recently visited France and asked, “Why are the tomatoes so darn good in France?”

I'm no food scientist, but I suspect freshness, growing conditions, seasonality, and varieties chosen for flavor all play a part.

Here, produce is seasonal. When something isn't in season, you may not find it at the market. In the United States, we're accustomed to finding almost every kind of produce throughout the year.

That convenience has its advantages. But there's something satisfying about eating food when it's naturally in season. And when those tomatoes finally arrive, you appreciate them.

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Small Aisles, Smaller Baskets

Most Paris grocery stores have narrow aisles and no shopping carts. Instead, you carry a handbasket. A full-size American shopping cart would block traffic and probably cause an international incident before you reached the dairy section.

I use a small basket, and when it's full, I know my backpack will soon be at capacity, too. That's our shopping limit. No bulk buying, no mountain of groceries, and no need to rearrange the trunk of the car to get everything home.

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You also bring your own shopping bags. Forget yours? You can buy one, but the reusable bags sold here are generally sturdier than the flimsy plastic bags many Americans use.

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Then there's the produce. In most French supermarkets, you weigh your own fruit and vegetables, select the item on a nearby scale, and print a label for your bag.

It sounds simple until you're standing in front of the machine, trying to remember the French word for zucchini. I've helped more than one bewildered English-speaking shopper. I now write my shopping lists in English with the French words alongside them.

I'm not fluent, but I can usually get the tomatoes weighed without calling for reinforcements.

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Less Shopping, More Living

Our neighborhood fromagerie (cheese shop) is a bit too far away for everyday visits, so I buy cheese at the grocery store. The selection is extensive, including varieties I've never heard of. If you visit a traditional fromagerie, go prepared: some cheeses announce their presence through their aroma before you reach the counter!

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For us, the biggest difference isn't the size of the stores. It's how shopping fits into daily life.

We buy what we need, cook in our apartment, discover unfamiliar ingredients, and return to the market the next day. That's one of the pleasures of slow travel: staying long enough to experience the ordinary routines that make a place special.

Food shopping in Paris isn't just an errand. It's part of the culture, part of the neighborhood, and part of the pleasure of being here.

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Even if it means buying our groceries one small basket at a time.

 

See you on the Journey,

Rock and Barb