le Salon de l'Agriculture Paris 2011

I have issues with crowds. Too much humanity in any one place at any one time and in five seconds flat, I go crazy! So I know better! And yet, just like the proverbial salmon who somehow swims up stream, I find myself every year smack in the middle of what is undoubtedly, the mother of all crowds – the one at the Salon de l’Agriculture, staged in Paris every year in February. 

I must be mad! For one thing, the Salon starts during the second week of spring break when all good mamans parisiennes ou banlieusardes (ou papas for that matter) are desperate to entertain their children. So for less than a 10er for each of their little darlings, they can not only keep les petits and not so petits out of trouble for an entire day but educate them about their genetic connection to la  belle France at the same time! Second, this is France and according to Anthelme Brillat-Savarin - “The destiny of nations depends on the way they eat” - so food, specifically the newly crowned UNESCO World Heritage French Food and the agriculture that supports it, is an integral part of the identity and culture of les Frenchies. Third, NO French person worth his or her Paraboots, especially city dwellers, would be caught dead without a recent anecdote about how he or she regularly connects with la France profounde, hence in the midst of grey depressing winter, we (I included) dutifully flock in the 100’s of thousands to the penultimate expression of all things French / Food – the expo designed to show off our farms, the farmers, their animals, products and way of life.  

The Paris Exposition at Porte de Versailles is an immense site. 226,000 square meters (that’s 2,433,000 square feet!) of floor space; 8 pavilions; 1,000 exhibitors and 650,000 people cram into and outside of it. No matter what hour or what day of the nine this Salon runs, there are seemingly a gazillion children of all ages climbing all over each other trying to get in touch with the land. You cannot image it unless you have been there. Pure mayhem, it is OTT; hors contrôle! And for some reason, I am always there when staunch farm supporter and past president, Jacques Chirac (and the 100 or so news crew engulfing him) makes his way through the main hall, petting the animals, chatting knowingly with the farmers and munching the winning regional delicacies, with his hands no less! The people love him because, unlike the incumbent, being from Corrèze, Chirac definitely knows his cows from his cheeses!  

All that being said, I love it. Imagine, bulls the size of small cars; pigs the size of a pony with even more fur; doe-eyed merino and cashmere goats right there in touching distance! Behold everywhere cute baby everythings, except of course, those in strollers being pushed by their parents through la foule (mob to you) either into you or over your feet. For us city dwellers enamoured with country life, it is a bonanza, a must see and do, even if you are crowd challenged! So to brave this crowd from hell there have to be rewards! Products rarely seen off the farm like cheeses, an example would be that brought by a single producer, the Coup de Corne, made at the Ferme de Cabriole in Saint-Félix de Lauragais (east if Toulouse). It is a raw cow’s milk cheese made of milk from the beautiful Brune race of cows which produce milk super high in matiere gras that makes the cheese silky and unctuous like a triple cream but isn’t! It is also rumoured to be used in my personal favourite - Epoisse! Or imagine a 24 month Ossau Iraty rarely seen outside of la Pays Basque, nutty, crunchy and expensive but worth every centimes. And a plethora of foie gras, saucissons and charcuteries, or weird fruits like the tiny but oh so delicious pineapples from Martinique, all of which you can buy and gorge on later in the comfort of your own apartment. 

The Salon offers lots of other things to do too than seeking a centimetre of fresh air. The most interesting for me, besides the animals and rare products of course, is the the Meilleurs Ouvriers de France Fromager competiton (MOF). Only the best of the best and the hardiest of French cheesemongers, who compete over several months, win this prestigious title, which sets them apart and if not famous, then part of a very rare fraternity. Here they produce their piece de resistance of cut and presented cheeses. The chosen finalists go on to the last test in March, a blind tasting, where they have to identify a series of 30 or so cheeses – and believe me these contestants are impressive, as this test is like the one the sommelier go through for the World's Best Sommelier Competition. 

So after a day of fabulous farmers, mind blowing animals, goodies galore and crushing crowds, I head home with my clutch of brochures and food souvenirs to soak my feet and start to forget about how many times I had to control myself from hyperventilating and the desire to rampage through the hordes, to seek calm until next year… 

Gardeners or slaves of France - The life of French milk farmers today

The reporter extraordinaire Harry Roselmack from TF1 (French TV), provided a look into the dire status of the independant French milk farmers with his show on January 25th - Harry Roselmack avec les résistants du monde paysan (Harry Roselmack with the Peasant Resistance). He spent several weeks with a group of diary farmers from the region of Ille-et-Vilaine in Brittany to better understand their life, the hardships they face and the little publicized fact that suicide amongst them are soaring, with more than 400 dead per year and many giving up their ancestral farms because they can not continue to pay to work on them.

The gist of the program was the paradox that while these farmers, once respected as 'les jardiniers (gardeners) de la France' providing food for the country,  they frequently can barely provide for their families.  They now believe they have become nothing more than 'les esclaves (slaves) de la France'. These people work 12 - 18 hour days, 7 days a week with rarely any time off and no benefits.  Prices for their production fell more than 30% in one year, all while operating expenses tripled. To wake up every day knowing you will once again be in the red, can not be easy, and yet being a farmer is not a job, it is a way of life, so difficult to give up.

This life is a far cry from the cushy one, as one of these farmers called it, enjoyed by those workers who populate the ranks of France's syndicats (unions). To hear one farmer say he would be 'thrilled if he could at least earned the SMIC (minimum wage)' was pretty heartbreaking.  It was worst to know that a huge percentage of them are and have not been profitable for years and borrow money just to keep their animals feed.  And with the price of milk not keeping pace with the cost of operation, large numbers of these farmers are being forced to give up their farms, many having been past down for generations; the statistics were pretty grim. In 2000, there were 120,000 milk farmers in France, today there are only 85,000.

This year, the drought has created yet more difficulties for them and even with the recent augmentation in the cost per litre, they will continue to live well below the poverty line. To be sure, it is a complicated situation, one that is similar, I am sure in other industrialized countries. The milk producers are at the bottom of the pile, with the cooperatives or processors and then the distributors above them. But the large cooperatives, who produce the milk products made five times what the average farmer made last year, so it begs the question of fairness.

The frustration of these proud people was palpable. A group of them have decided to revolt against this system of pricing that does not take into account the reality of their work production.  Four of them went on a hunger strike late last year with the hope of calling attention to their plight.  Try and find a link to have news of their status...good luck. The press largely ignores them, until of course they decide to dump their milk in the streets in front of a ministry. No wonder they feel no one is either listening nor cares, least of all the consumer or politicans.

An equitable resolution of what is fair for the producer all the way up to the consumer is the question. But as one farmer said, those who govern need to understand that the old adage of 'Le paysan ne cri pas quand il y en mal, il meurt en silence parce qu’il a la dignité (the peasant doesn't cry out when they hurt, they die in silence because they have dignity) was no longer going to be the case. The slaves of France were going to rise up and demand their respected place in the country and be paid fairly for their labours.  On verra...

Note Bene:  The look on Harry's beautiful face while two farmers at 1 in the morning were trying to pull a new calf out of the womb of it's mother, with great difficulty, was priceless.