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Travel Cultures Language

Different Cultures Share a Supermarket Dream

by Meredith Mullins on March 6, 2017

Man with shopping cart at La Louve, the new Paris food co-op that unites different cultures. (Image © Meredith Mullins.)

La Louve: A new Paris food co-op is born from a cross-cultural dream.
© Meredith Mullins

La Louve: A Paris Food Co-op Innovation

You wouldn’t expect a supermarket to grab newspaper headlines. But La Louve, a new food co-op in Paris, has been doing just that.

What makes it newsworthy? It’s the first cooperative supermarket in Paris—a social experiment where members are responsible for the direction and daily functioning of the enterprise.

It has the added unique quality of being modeled after an American food co-op and creatively sculpted to work in France. An intriguing blend of different cultures.

Child shopping at the Paris food co-op La Louve, showing a successful blend of different cultures. (Image © Meredith Mullins.)

A supermarket for all ages
© Meredith Mullins

Realizing a Dream

France is not new to the concept of cooperatives and is certainly not new to the advantages of blending the best of distinctive cultures.

There were some challenges, however, as Americans Tom Boothe and Brian Horihan dove into this adventure.

Both Tom and Brian were residents of France interested in quality food, the protection of the planet, and an alternative to a profit-oriented commercial approach to food shopping.

And both had experience with the successful Park Slope Co-op in Brooklyn, New York—an exemplary prototype for their dream.

Shelf of olive oils at the Paris food co-op La Louve, an experiment in blending different cultures. (Image © Meredith Mullins.)

Offering the best quality products at reduced prices
© Meredith Mullins

The mission was simple: to offer quality products at a reduced price and to be able to pay the producers a fair price for their products.

The question was how to fit this model into France—to work within existing laws, gain government support, and respect cultural preferences.

La Louve sign in the window, identifying the Paris food co-op and recognizing a merging of different cultures. (Image © Meredith Mullins.)

La Louve Supermarket in Test Phase
© Meredith Mullins

The She-Wolf Approach

 La Louve in French translates to she wolf. A strong alpha-female animal that protects and defends and does not stop until the work is done or the goal is reached. Family is paramount (as is survival of the pack).

The name seemed fitting as the seed of a dream for this experimental food co-op designed to build community around a common goal.

Tom and Brian met each challenge with cross-cultural intelligence. Six years of hard work and perseverance later, La Louve opened its doors.

Cashier line at the Paris food co-op La Louve, an experiment in the blending of different cultures. (Image © Meredith Mullins.)

Even in the Test Phase, La Louve is a busy place.
© Meredith Mullins

Values and Principles

 La Louve functions via two primary concepts. It is a not-for-profit association whose members, as in all co-ops, participate in the governing and functioning of the supermarket. Members vote, as co-owners, on decisions that need to be made.

In addition, as in the Park Slope Co-op model, each member dedicates time each month to work at the co-op.

Woman marks prices at the refrigerator in the Paris food co-op La Louve, an experiment in the blending of different cultures. (Image © Meredith Mullins.)

A La Louve co-op member marks product prices.
© Meredith Mullins

For La Louve, members work three hours every four weeks. This requirement proved more difficult to implement in France, since it is unusual for someone to be required to work for no pay, even a modest three hours every month.

The work tasks for the co-op members range from cashiering to receiving deliveries, stocking shelves, cleaning, and managing administrative duties.

Three people discuss wine at the Paris food co-op La Louve, an experiment in the blending of different cultures. (Image © Meredith Mullins.)

Co-founder Tom Boothe (also a wine expert) provides wine information to a co-op member.
© Meredith Mullins

As more members join the co-op, more jobs will be created. Since the Park Slope co-op was founded in 1973 and now has more than 16,000 working members, many different jobs exist there.

In addition to standard supermarket-type jobs, Park Slope members can accompany shoppers home or to the subway to help them with their packages; write for the LineWaiters gazette, a co-op newspaper to read while waiting in the cashier line; or wash the toys in the children’s center, since childcare is a service provided to shoppers or workers.

The member workforce provides a customer-oriented shopping experience, a spirit of community, and the low overhead needed to keep product prices at their lowest.

A man selects from the produce shelves at the Paris food co-op La Louve, an experiment in blending different cultures. (Image © Meredith Mullins.)

Organic produce from local producers
© Meredith Mullins

What’s on La Louve’s Shelves?

With brands such as Naturattiva, BioNaturae, Artisinale, and Naturata on the shelves, the underlying focus of the co-op is evident. Although there is not a requirement that products be organic (bio, in French), each offering is carefully selected to be the best and most healthful choice available.

The purchasing group (le groupment d’achats) invests time in researching each product. They conduct taste tests when needed to maintain their goal of quality—for example, sampling a variety of olive oils or chocolates or teas before deciding which to carry. (Put me on the wine team, please.)

Wine shelf at the Paris food co-op La Louve, an experiment in blending different cultures. (Image © Meredith Mullins.)

It’s France! An incredible selection of wines
© Meredith Mullins

They also strive to source products from local, planet-friendly producers who share the same values and ethical and environmentally sound work practices as the co-op.

The products are selected based on group decisions and will evolve according to the wishes of the co-op members.

Shelf of potato chips at the Paris food co-op La Louve, an experiment in blending different cultures. (Image © Meredith Mullins.)

Organic potato chips—pourquoi pas?
© Meredith Mullins

Do you want a snack while you’re watching that soccer match? Reach for organic chili- or sour-cream-flavored chips. Do you have a chocolate craving? Try a Chocolate and Love bar.

Shelf of chocolate bars at the Paris food co-op La Louve, an experiment in blending different cultures. (Image © Meredith Mullins.)

Chocolate and Love
© Meredith Mullins

Are you looking for warmth during a cold winter? How about the popular lambswool socks. Do you depend on fresh organic fruit and vegetables? Local producers will deliver what’s in season.

All of these choices can be found at 15–40% less than at the major supermarket chains.

The mayor of Paris, Anne Hidalgo, talks with the diverse members of La Louve, the Paris food co-op that recognizes different cultures. (Image © Meredith Mullins.)

The Mayor of Paris, Anne Hidalgo (orange scarf), and the Mayor of the 18th arrondissement, Eric Lejoindre (behind her to the left), visit with members of La Louve.
© Meredith Mullins

What’s in La Louve’s Heart?

The diversity of the co-op members creates a vibrant dynamic. Although the store has been open only four months and is still in its test phase, there are more than 4500 members (with 42% living in the 18th arrondissement where the store is located).

This neighborhood was chosen, with the support of the City of Paris and the Mayor of the 18th arrondissement, because of the heterogeneity of the population and the need for a place where quality food could be purchased for a reduced price.

Two people chat at the food co-op La Louve in Paris, showing a successful blend of different cultures. (Image © Meredith Mullins.)

A friendly environment for shopping (co-founder Brian Horihan center photo)
© Meredith Mullins

The project inspires a spirit of community. As one of the co-op members said, it’s great to see people really talking with one another in a supermarket. Another member mentions that she enjoys shopping with a smile. The camaraderie is a large part of the experience.

The project has also led to other new co-ops in France. Cities such as Lille, Bordeaux, Grenoble, Toulouse, Montpellier, and Marseille are following the same processes that La Louve implemented to reach a successful outcome.

Paris Mayor Anne Hidalgo talks with members of the Paris food co-op La Louve, an experiment in the blending of different cultures. (Image © Meredith Mullins.)

Mayor Hidalgo receives an honorary membership to La Louve.
© Meredith Mullins

The “Oh, I See” Moments

There are many “Oh, I see” moments in La Louve’s six-year road to reality. For me, as co-op member #6 (an early adopter), there was much to learn from the dedication of the original visionaries.

They were committed to their core values. Their hard work offered them little immediate reward other than the hope that the dream would someday become reality.

They rose to the challenges that molding an American food co-op concept into a French reality presented—different cultures uniting in a productive way.

And now, members reap the rewards of being able to shop with a smile.

Shopping cart at the Paris food co-op La Louve, an experiment in blending different cultures. (Image © Meredith Mullins.)

Vive La Louve
© Meredith Mullins

For more information, visit La Louve Food Co-op, Park Slope Food Co-op, Food Co-op, the film by Tom Boothe, and City of Paris.

Comment on this post below, or inspire insight with your own OIC Moment here.

 

You Say Potato . . . I Say Pomme de Terre

by Meredith Mullins on December 12, 2016

Potatoes on French market shelves, showing the cultural heritage of the potato in France. (Image © Meredith Mullins.)

Potatoes taking their rightful place on French market shelves
© Meredith Mullins

How France’s Parmentier Changed the Cultural Heritage of the Potato

Imagine . . .

a world without mountains of crispy French fries,

a holiday dinner minus fluffy clouds of mashed potatoes,

a steak without a baked potato dripping with sour cream,

a plate begging for a huddle of new potatoes with a hint of parsley and butter that launches pomme de terre into the strata of haute cuisine,

silence instead of the crunch of a potato chip while watching a ball game.

The wonderful world of food would be quite different without the versatile potato.

Stuffed baked potatoes, showing the cultural heritage of the potato in France. (© Bruskov/iStock.)

The overstuffed baked potato
© Bruskov/iStock

French Roadblocks in the Potato’s Cultural Heritage

As we savor the delicious variations of potato, we don’t often think of its lineage—its cultural heritage.

But, if you’re eating a potato creation in France, a moment of tribute is in order, with a particular thank you to a pomme de terre hero—Antoine-Augustin Parmentier.

The cultural heritage of the potato in France did not have an auspicious beginning.

Potato-less cuisine was the norm for the French prior to 1785. While some parts of the world had been introduced to potatoes for many years (or thousands of years in its homeland Peru), the French did not embrace the potato’s virtues.

Potatoes were considered, at best, food for farm animals. At worst, people believed the underground tubers caused leprosy.

Fields of potato, showing the cultural heritage of the potato in France. (Image © P. Wollinga/iStock.)

Potato fields
© P. Wollinga/iStock

Parmentier: A Potato Hero

One man changed potato history in France: Antoine-Augustin Parmentier.

He is honored with a Paris metro stop (where you can learn about the history of the potato), a street name, and several statues in France.

Paris metro stop Parmentier, showing the cultural heritage of the potato in France. (Image © Meredith Mullins.)

Learning about pomme de terre history at the Paris Metro Stop Parmentier
© Meredith Mullins

He is also honored by being named in several French dishes that feature potatoes such as potage Parmentier (potato and leek soup) and anything Parmentier (usually something mixed with mashed potatoes, like hachis Parmentier, which is ground meat and mashed potatoes, similar to Shepherd’s pie).

Hachis parmentier (Shepherd's Pie), showing the cultural heritage of the potato in France. (Image © mikafotostok/iStock.)

Hachis Parmentier (mashed potatoes and minced meat)
© mikafotostok/iStock

His grave in the Père Lachaise Cemetery is ringed with potato plants and, almost always, has a few potatoes placed on the gravestone ledges in tribute.

Who was Parmentier?

a. A health food promoter
b. A serious scientist
c. A hobnobber with celebrities and royalty
d. A master marketer
e. All of the above

The answer, for such a complex character, is of course “All of the above” . . . and more.

Statue of Parmentier by Albert Roze at the Parmentier metro stop, showing the cultural heritage of the potato in France. (Image © Meredith Mullins.)

Statue of Parmentier giving potatoes to a peasant (by Albert Roze)
© Meredith Mullins

Parmentier was a pharmacist by trade, but, while in the army, he was captured by the Prussians during the Seven Years War.

During his imprisonment, his diet consisted almost solely of potatoes. To his surprise, he realized the tuber must be nutritious because he stayed healthy. Also to his surprise, he discovered they were pretty darn tasty (no thanks to the prison chef).

When he was released and returned to Paris, he made it his mission to alert the French to the benefits of the potato.

He did research and wrote papers, with seductive titles such as “Inquiry into Nourishing Vegetables that in Times of Necessity Could Be Substituted for Ordinary Food.”

When the papers didn’t quite convince the public, he used his master marketing skills.

Painting of Antoine Parmentier by François Dumont, showing the cultural heritage of the potato in France. (Painting by Françoise Dumont.)

Painting of Parmentier with a bouquet of potato blossoms (hanging at Chateau Versailles)
By François Dumont

He planted a field of potatoes in the city and posted guards so that people would think the plants were valuable. He was also clever enough to give the guards the night off so that people could steal the plants and begin to grow them as the valuable treasures they were.

He hosted sumptuous dinner parties for the Paris notables (including Benjamin Franklin) that featured a variety of potato dishes for their dining pleasure.

For his final marketing push, he gave bouquets of potato blossoms to the king and queen. He won their favor, resulting in a royal decree that the potato was now an acceptable vegetable in France.

Three kinds of potatoes, showing the cultural heritage of the potato in France. (Image © Meredith Mullins.)

Three popular potatoes of the more than 300 varieties grown in France
© Meredith Mullins

A Rich Resource

Annabelle—Amandine—Belle de Fontenay—Charlotte—Chérie—Ratte—Rosella—Bintje—Marabel—Monalisa—Nicola—Agata

These are not starlet stage names. They are the names of just a few of the 300 varieties of potato grown in France.

Thanks to Parmentier’s research, we now know that potatoes are rich in vitamins and minerals, particularly Vitamins B and C, magnesium, and potassium.

And thanks to Parmentier’s tireless work on behalf of the potato, France now produces more than six million tons of potatoes each year and is the primary exporter to other European countries.

Roasted potatoes, showing the cultural heritage of the potato in France. (Image © Meredith Mullins.)

The traditional French roasted potatoes
© Meredith Mullins

A Lasting Friendship with the Potato

“The potato has now none but friends,” Parmentier wrote in one of his last books. His potato work was done.

The friendship is lasting. Today, most everyone in France (and beyond) is a friend of the potato, as we pay tribute to its cultural heritage by munching our French fries, potato chips, and Parmentier dishes.

The “Oh, I see” moment for me is about taking a moment to thank the dedicated hero of the pomme de terre story in France.

Sometimes you have to fight for what you believe in . . . even if it’s potatoes.

A tile representation of the potato plant at Parmentier Metro Station in Paris, showing the cultural heritage of the potato in France. (Image © Meredith Mullins.)

A tile tribute to the potato at the Parmentier Metro Station in Paris
© Meredith Mullins

To read a similar story about one person’s quest to bring a food to Paris (in this case, kale), go to The Kale Project.

For a great recipe for potato leek soup, try David Lebovitz’s version. 

Comment on this post below, or inspire insight with your own OIC Moment here.

Travel Stories: Good Thing We Took the Wrong Train

by Joyce McGreevy on April 26, 2016

A view from a flight departing Boston might feature in travel stories about travel mishaps that turn out just fine. Image © Joyce McGreevy

Travel isn’t all plain sailing, but a little luck can help you wing it.
© Joyce McGreevy

Travel Mishaps, Mosaics, and Memories

If two trains travel toward the same station at different times . . . Remember those math questions from school? Call them my least favorite travel stories.

I recall Mrs. Newton asking our fourth grade class to brainstorm solutions. As the collective desperation mounted, I burst out with “Agh! Stop the trains!”

Okay, so not a mathematician.

Yet those equations proved instructive. As emblems of bewilderment in motion, they offered a preview of real-life travel problems.

Making Tracks, Italian Style

Like the time my son and I transferred to the wrong train. We were traveling “home” to Florence from Ravenna, once capital of the Western Roman Empire. The glittering tesserae of Byzantine mosaics had seemed illumined from within. My perusal of Italian rail maps proved far less enlightening.

Mosaics in Ravenna, Italy, like this one of Empress Theodora, are a highlight of many travel stories.

In Ravenna, Italy, Empress Theodora is immortalized
in mosaic. Travel memories are mosaics, too.
Photo by Meister von San Vitale in Ravenna [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons

Oh, I understood when the conductor told us to transfer at the next station. Trouble is, we had different ideas of what constituted “next.”

This I discovered as, breathless from managing the tight connection, we noticed one tiny glitch: We were moving in the wrong direction.

A train passenger catching the wrong train is a subject of many travel stories.

Ah, that splendid travel moment, right before you realize you took the wrong train.
Train Passenger photo by Unsplash is licensed under CC0 1.0.

No problem. We’d get off at the next stop, sort things out at the ticket booth, and catch the next train to Florence. Meanwhile, we’d explore what was sure to be a charming little town.

Two hours and no discernible charm or ticket booth later, we boarded another train. But when I told our predicament to the conductor, he practically congratulated us on our mistake.

Home By Another Way

The ruins of the Roman forum feature in many travel stories, from travel mishaps to magic. Image @ Ceren Abi

Just because a Roman holiday goes wrong, does that mean it’s in ruins?
© Ceren Abi

Turns out the train we should have caught had just been sidelined by a strike. Factor in that, ye mighty writers of the “two trains” pop quiz.

Had we done everything correctly, the conductor explained—his tone conveying the folly of such behavior—it would have been midnight before we reached our destination.

He seated us beside a personable woman who turned out to be an expert on Italian art history, including Ravenna’s mosaics. It was a delightful journey.

“Good thing we took the wrong train!” my son said, a line that has entered family lore. It’s an expression we use when things that go wrong somehow lead to a positive outcome.

Which in travel, they do with surprising regularity. Oh, I see: Sometimes travel mishaps lead to great travel memories.

Confusing road signs, like this one in Italy, feature in many travel stories of travel mishaps.

“Excuse me, could you give us directions to the road less traveled?”
Road sign in Ischia Porto by Zoagli is licensed under CC BY-NC-ND 4.0.

Mysteries, Great and Small

Like that time in Brittany . . . We’d been pondering the megalithic mysteries of Carnac, France, site of 3,000 standing stones. Then we encountered another mystery. Someone had broken into our rental car and stolen a backpack.

The standing stones of Carnac, France feature in many travel stories, from travel mishaps to magic. Image © Arie Mastenbroek/Thinkstock

The menhir, or ancient standing stones of Carnac, France were erected by pre-Celtic peoples.
© Arie Mastenbroek/Thinkstock

Nothing elevates the sentimental value of objects like their loss. We headed to a police station. For a ten-year-old boy who read The Adventures of Tintin, this was welcome diversion.

Hearing our American accents, the gendarme playfully asked if we knew Clint Eastwood.

Did I mention that we’d lived in Carmel when Eastwood was mayor?

Surely the gendarme would still have offered us refreshments, courtesy, and a tour of the station had we lived in Duluth.

In any event, a travel mishap became a congenial field trip. The day’s experiences–the sublime, the snafu, and the serendipitous–combined like a mosaic to create a positive travel memory.

April-Fools-at-Large

A sign for a found parakeet in Evanston, IL might feature in travel stories of travel mishaps. Image © Joyce McGreevy

Even frequent flyers can be unclear on the best mode of transportation.
© Joyce McGreevy

On April Fools’ Day, we returned to the town.

The backpack and its contents, having failed to meet our thief’s aesthetic standards, had been dumped in a phone booth.

We were directed to the town hall basement, where a lone employee seemed glad of company.

After signing for the backpack, we chatted about Poisson d’Avril, as April 1 is called in France. We’d known that pranksters celebrated the day by sticking paper fish on the backs of the unsuspecting.

But the part about enjoying fish-shaped pastries and candies was new information. Monsieur Le Sous-Sol sent us home with a veritable school of foil-wrapped chocolate sardines.

Traveling at a Snail’s Pace

A view of Liscannor, Ireland shows why getting lost can lead to great travel stories. Image © Joyce McGreevy

If you plan to get lost, the West of Ireland is the ideal setting.
© Joyce McGreevy

My friend Jules once got lost while driving in Ireland. That’s easily done, as Ireland is somehow bigger on the inside than it appears on the outside.

As the road got narrower, its surface thinner, she ended up at a lakeshore. Light played on the ripples of the water.

Then she heard rustling in the foliage.

What had broken the silence? Nothing more than a snail moving along lush, green leaves. If that isn’t the measure of a peaceful setting, what is?

Hello, said Jules, admiring the spirals on the snail’s shell. I’ve come a long, long way to meet you. Some travelers, even when lost, are always where they need to be. For them, “wrong” turns, discovery, and appreciation form one rich mosaic. Now how about you? When have travel mishaps led to your favorite travel stories?

Something as small as a snail can feature in travel stories of getting lost and finding beauty.

Memorable travel sights aren’t always
the most monumental.
Jon Sullivan [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons

Listen to hilarious tweets about travel mishaps from comedian Jimmy Fallon here.

Comment on this post below, or inspire insight with your own OIC Moment here.

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