The market that brings order to the city
When we set off to travel the world, what's now called "traveling," everyone recommends visiting the markets wherever we end up. These markets, some distorted, like some in Cap-Casualty, and others more famous and popular, like the Sunday markets in certain parts of the world, are portraits, snapshots, and samples of their surroundings. In the stalls, in the order—or disorder—of the products, in the voices that resonate, and in the mingling aromas, one can discern a way of life, of producing, and of relating to food.
Markets, more than any other space, explain a community's relationship with its food. They reveal what is grown, what is hunted, what is bought, what is valued, and what is discarded. And they also reveal how order has been established throughout. Because a market is not just a place of provision: it is a political, urban, and cultural decision. In Reus, this decision took shape in the Central Market. Its construction stemmed from the desire to concentrate and regulate an activity that, until then, had been scattered throughout the city center. Open-air stalls, street vending, and dispersed commerce coexisted in a space that could no longer accommodate urban growth or new health requirements. Organizing the market was, in essence, organizing the city. The Central Market project, drafted in the 1930s by the municipal architect Antoni Sardà i Moltó and completed with the building's inauguration in 1949, fully embodies this logic. It is not an architecture that seeks spectacle or symbolic representation, but rather a building designed for its function. Its clear volume, the rationality of its layout, and the interior organization respond to criteria of efficiency, control, and hygiene, but also of permanence.
Inside the market, food ceases to be a chaotic element and becomes a system. The stalls are organized, the routes are predictable, and the light and ventilation guarantee optimal conditions for food preservation. But this order doesn't eliminate life: it channels it. The market remains a space for conversation, recommendations, and the transmission of culinary knowledge. Here, you learn to choose a fish, to recognize a ripe fruit, to cook according to the season.
The Reus Central Market is also a map of the territory. The products that arrive explain a historical relationship with the Camp de Tarragona region: olive oil, nuts, vegetables, wine. The market thus becomes a point of contact between the rural world and the city, between those who produce and those who consume. This proximity, so highly valued today, has been a daily practice for decades.
Over time, habits have changed. Competition from other retail formats, changing schedules, and evolving cooking habits have forced the market to adapt. However, despite these transformations, the Central Market maintains an essential function: reminding us that food is not just about price or speed, but about relationships, knowledge, and local ingredients.
When we visit markets around the world today in search of authenticity, we often forget to look at our own. Therefore, with this first article dedicated to the Central Market of Reus, we begin a series focused on our municipal markets, to discover and recognize ourselves both at the market stall and at our tables.