On Saturdays in Hyeres the entire town is a market. Farmers come from all over and bring their produce. There are many cheese purveyors, wagons with open bins of hard candies (I have no idea how this can work since it is fairly humid and they must stick together. It’s pretty but disgusting.) There is honey, olive wood, fabrics, olives, sausage and then there is the horse meat vendor. As you can see. There is a line. 

I actually bought, cooked and ate horse meat once. In Guadeloupe. A long time ago. I didn’t tell my sister and brother in law or my boyfriend at the time what it was they had no idea what chevaline meant. It looked like beef. We ate it. We were less squeamish then I imagine. 

When I was a kid our neighbor fed her cat horse meat. It came in blue and white wax paper boxes.