When One Comes to a Crossroad

My Complicated Relationship with Carrefour

On Wednesday, we made our annual pilgrimage to the Carrefour Hypermarché at Les Milles. I recently learned that the store is not only built down the street from a WWII Concentration Camp, but it was also the entrepreneurial inspiration for Sam Walton’s Super Walmarts that results in the monopolistic takeover—and systematic destruction—of the grocery store industry. You can listen to more about that on my July Podcast with Austin Frerick.

Despite the ominous homage, the Les Milles Carrefour is a Hagia Sophia-sized cathedral to consumerism. Criminally convenient and breathtakingly big, it would impress the most committed Costco patron. Part Whole Foods, part Target, part BestBuy, with a dash of Bevmo, the store elicits an almost religious euphoria when my family arrives, normally the day after we land in Marseilles. The audacity of it all feels even more absurdly surreal when one remembers that the Hypermarché was conceived in France, a country heavy with opinionated locavores who break out in hives at the thought of buying in bulk. 

For us maladjusted Americans returning to France after wandering for 11 months the profiteering, culinary agricultural industrial complex that is the US food system, this is the perfect halfway house. Carrefour is the only place in France where you can find three refrigerated aisle of cheese, five of wine, a full service butcher shop, a bakery, a seafood counter overflowing with oysters, whole Dorade and Coquilles St. Jacques, fruits and vegetables from around the world, including Luberon heirloom tomatoes and Israeli avocados, charcuterie subdivided by country and region, a massive book store, the newest immersion blender or portable air conditioner, iPhone charges, relatively fashionable clothing, a pharmacy, a new wheelbarrow or chainsaw, and more than 80 kinds of ice cream—the kids counted them.

I’ll admit to this guilty pleasure as I traipse zombie-like through the aisles. For this jet-lagged tourist with a kink for grocery stores anyway, finding a cornucopia of choice all in one place is quite titillating . It reduces those anxious post-travel jitters, exposes me to new foods and brands, and helps me build courage to try new things, or discover new adventures. After three hours of shopping, we came away with ten days of food, a full kit of paper goods, a yoga mat, some flip flops, and a bluetooth speaker. Formidable! 

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not suggesting you should substitute Carrefour for the romantic Provencal village markets that occur on set days throughout the region. I can’t think of a better way to experience the South’s culinary diversity than to walk the winding streets of the Luberon with their bursting stalls, tables and mobile fresh food trucks selling local delicacies and regional artisanal items. More on that later for sure. And I’d also never consider buying bread at Carrefour. Why get store-bought when my aunt’s village of less than eight thousand people has four boulangeries. 

The greatest blessing Carrefour has given me is the excited faces my children make just before we arrive. It is often the first interaction with French locals, and the beginning of our annual transformation into a French family living in the country, sitting around the dinner table, and enjoying hours of conversation and good food.

Our first night, I made duck breast, string beans sautéed in the same pan, fried potatoes, and a sauce of mustard, fig confiture and balsamic. Last night, it was beef kofta with goat milk yogurt, courgettes provencal, and a rice pilaf. Tonight, a roast chicken, fingerling potatoes, carrots and crusty bread to sop up the jus, all purchased at Carrefour. We did get three local cheeses at my favorite Aix fromagerie, and a few dainty pastries for dessert from the bakery down the street. 

We’ve come to a crossroads, and it’s delicious.