Cádiz Market
Stall 54
A few fishmongers were already hosing down their white tile walls and marble counters when I arrived at the market in Cádiz on a Wednesday at noon. It was an hour before the stalls close, and the sellers still open were carving steaks from massive tunas or throwing onto the scales handfuls of silver sardines (or white cuttlefish or gray-pink baby squid) or scooping tiny, jumping shrimp into paper cones. Within the worn building, sellers of cheese, meat, fruits, and vegetables form an outer ring; the seafood section, renowned for fish caught by local boats, is at the building’s heart.By Melissa Pasanen
Photograph By Melissa Pasanen
Cádiz, on the Atlantic coast of Andalusía, lies at the end of a peninsula past industrial and suburban mess; it’s better to arrive by boat from across the bay. The inhabitants, called Gaditanos, claim their city is the oldest in Western Europe — the Phoenician town of Gadir was founded in 1000 BC. In the tightly wound old streets, the soft-edged, salt-bleached buildings are preserved and not prettified. Cádiz was the only Spanish city to successfully resist Franco’s ban on Carnival celebrations.
The vendor at stall 54 was just about to weigh the octopus in his hand. Like the one hanging as an advertisement over the counter, it was limp and slimy, just killed. The customer was wearing an apron, so she was probably someone’s maid. Housewives, I’m told, don’t shop in their aprons. She might have prepared one of two common dishes: a cold octopus salad with red onion and tomatoes or a simple stew with potatoes and sweet paprika. Half an hour after I took the picture, shoppers and vendors were on their way home for lunch, which is served around 3. By then, the streets were deserted except for a few tourists eating seafood at sidewalk tables. ●
