Browsing through Les Halles in Narbonne on a recent Saturday, to my greatest dismay, I came upon a large display of sickly tomatoes. “Tomatoes in February?” was muttering the older man standing next to me. “Probably hot-house” I offered as I moved on to look for something a little more seasonal. We met up again a few minutes later, my red bin filled with winter greens and his with a couple of tomatoes. “Did you get them from the right side or from the left?” inquired the stall keeper as she prepared to ring the sale. “Why? They all look the same,” he replied while pointing to the left. She explained that the ones on the left were Spanish and the others local. He looked absolutely indignant as he marched back to the display, dumped the offending foreigners, and returned clutching two soulless little rocks de pays.