Price shock – a trip to veggie mecca and a surprise at the check out

We’d always known about Grand Frais. Ask for advice about where to find any slightly unusual culinary product – tahini, pak choi, fresh coriander – and you’re almost guaranteed that there will be a chorus of recommendations ‘Grand Frais’. Whenever we go to Family Village in Limoges, the French equivalent of Lakeside, albeit about one-twentieth of the size, we pop into Grand Frais. It’s where OH gets bottles of chilli sauce, fresh chillies abound and you can always pick up fresh herbs other than parsley. One of our neighbours, a pro-chef foodie type, swears by the BBQ meat and shops there every week. The problem was that I had always viewed GF as some type of French version of Waitrose. Excellent quality, attractive packaging, beautiful displays, exorbitant pricing.

It wasn’t until one of our more cautious (mean) expat friends mentioned their weekly trips to Grand Frais that I reconsidered our position. Locally, we have a choice of three supermarkets, all franchises: two Intermarche and a SuperU. Without exception the quality of fruit and vegetables is appalling. I used to think that France was a country fuelled by garlic, but I never seem to be able to buy a bulb of garlic that isn’t sprouting, papery or rotting. I’ve watched apricots turn brown in front of my eyes on the kitchen table and bananas become mush overnight. Some may argue that this is because the French shop regularly at open-air markets. It may be true that the daily market in Les Halles in Limoges or St Junien sells better quality vegetables, but this is the twenty-first century folks, who’s got time to go shopping every day? There’s usually a market at one of the larger villages in the vicinity every day of the week and ambulant epicierie vans that drive through our hamlet a couple of times a week. These may be great for the locals who need a new scrubbing brush or a tin of haricot to go in the rabbit stew, but you’re unlikely to find ‘modern’ vegetables like pak choi and scotch bonnet chillies.

A recent squall had blown one of the picture frames off the wall, so a trip to Family Village could be justified to buy a replacement. I was also on the lookout for a jar of tahini. It was time to overlook the budget and do some serious shopping in Grand Frais. Somewhat usually I did not have a list, just a vague idea that as summer has finally arrived I’d make a stir-fry. I found the tahini straight away, and various other interesting ingredients: tikka masala curry powder, cashews, and pine nuts that didn’t cost the earth. The range of fruit and vegetables was, as usual, breath-taking. Brightly coloured, shiny, healthy-looking, red, green, yellow and orange, peppers, courgettes, onions, tomatoes, loose leaves in rich purples and luxuriant greens, seven varieties of mushroom, and garlic – fresh, plump and firm. Everything was tempting me to load up the shopping bag. It felt healthy just being there.

I didn’t look at the prices. I formulated a very vague menu plan: spring onions for a couple of stir-frys and a risotto, tomatoes for salad or pasta, courgette for stir-fry or pasta, plump brown chestnut mushrooms for a recipe yet to be decided, and several chillies in different sizes and strengths for an extra kick. I didn’t think about the cost until we got to the check-out. Still reeling from the referendum result and the falling pound, I muttered to OH, ‘you’ll need to pay on the card’. Then, I started to watch the prices as they popped up on the LCD screen. Two red onions – fifty cents; I’d paid fifty-six cents for one red onion last week and still had to throw half of it away when I came to cook, lemons €3.99 per kg compared to €4.90 locally, the bananas and the tomatoes were the same price but at least they were edible, and spring onions €1.40, versus €1.49 locally. It suddenly struck me that perhaps Grand Frais was not as expensive as I had previously thought, no wonder our middle-class French neighbours and more enlightened English friends shop there every week. It’s certainly my plan to do so from now on.

Saturday night stir fry

We had this with boil-in the-bag rice (some campervan habits will never change). The sauce, if you can call it that, is a little thin, but the strong flavours of the vegetables do not need to be masked by a cloying sauce. It tastes light and fresh, perfect for a summer evening under the awning.