In a scene that sounds more like a sitcom than a grand opera, Whole Foods was entirely out of fresh croissants.
It was 4:30 p.m., a mere three hours before the curtain would rise on a revival of Puccini’s beloved ‘La Bohème’ at the Metropolitan Opera. For Rex Marquez, clad in a tie-dye bucket hat and wielding his grandmother’s vintage red shopping cart, this pastry predicament was nothing short of a crisis.
As a vital member of the Met’s small-props department, Marquez embarks on a precisely timed shopping odyssey before every single ‘La Bohème’ performance. This iconic opera, performed over 1,400 times, demands a level of detail that extends even to its edible elements. His journey takes him through the labyrinthine underground tunnels of Lincoln Center, out onto bustling West 62nd Street, and through crowded sidewalks to four distinct stops, all within 90 minutes.
Rex Marquez’s shopping includes a large order from Popeyes Louisiana Kitchen that includes chicken, French fries and biscuits.
Whole Foods on Columbus Circle is his second stop. He navigates the aisles with practiced efficiency, but on this particular day, the bins where he expected to find the French pastry were conspicuously bare.
“There are no French croissants,” he observed with a sigh. Franco Zeffirelli’s lavish 1981 production of ‘La Bohème’ dictates that two members of the children’s chorus deliver a croissant, nestled in a basket of bread, to Marcello and Rodolfo’s humble garret in the Latin Quarter of Paris.
His gaze swept across the store. “There is an alternative,” he declared, seizing a stack of prepackaged croissants and tossing them into his cart. With the pastry issue resolved, he gathered baguettes, yogurt, a salad, and bagels, eventually joining the lengthy checkout line. The total bill: $70.97.
A dynamic visual sequence shows a mix of scenes: a busy backstage area where food is being prepped, close-ups of fried chicken and French fries, a prop master meticulously arranging rainbow lollipops, and snippets of the opera performance. This highlights the unusual and diverse items on Marquez’s shopping list, which are decidedly un-19th-century Parisian.
Marquez, 31, joined the Met five years ago, initially working front-of-house security. His knack for organization and dedication led to his promotion to this unique and celebrated backstage role. One could argue that in ‘La Bohème,’ Marquez’s work is almost as crucial to the performance’s success as soprano Juliana Grigoryan’s captivating portrayal of Mimì.
His detailed assignment directly reflects the meticulous realism that defines Zeffirelli’s iconic production. Food isn’t just a background element; it’s as central to the opera’s authenticity as the live donkey and horse that grace the stage.
Marquez now has the production’s eccentric—and, frankly, anachronistic—shopping list completely memorized. His cart typically carries four baguettes, 30 bagels, a 16-piece bucket of Popeyes fried chicken, three orders of French fries, three family-size bags of Double Stuf Oreos, and a container of spring greens for salad. For beverages, he procures hibiscus tea from Target, steeped overnight to resemble red wine, and sparkling cider or ginger ale from Morton Williams, which is then decanted into Champagne bottles on stage.
The minutes before each performance are a rush for Marquez to get all the food in place for the show.
“The show has been played for many years,” he said, pausing at a Columbus Avenue stoplight. “The menu has stayed the same. We keep it very conservative. We don’t explore.”
This is a job with strict deadlines. He was relieved when the Popeyes Louisiana Kitchen clerk, ringing up his $87.07 order, promised it would be ready in just five minutes. “That’s not bad,” he commented. “I’ve seen it take 30.”
In reality, many of Zeffirelli’s intricate food details might go unnoticed by the audience in the Met’s vast 3,800-seat theater. Spectators attend for Mimì and Rodolfo’s poignant romance, not for culinary inspection. From the highest seats in the Family Circle, it’s virtually impossible to tell that the waiter is serving real chicken, fries, and salad. Or that Musetta’s ‘crema’ at Café Momus is, in fact, plain whole-milk Stonyfield yogurt, personally selected by Marquez during his Whole Foods run.
“I think Zeffirelli wanted the singers to understand what it was like to be savoring real food,” explained Fred Plotkin, an opera and food writer who previously worked with Zeffirelli as a production manager at the Met. “The audience might not see it. You may not be able to make out what the food is on the stage.”
A dynamic video shows the Met Opera stage during a performance, highlighting the vibrant activity of the props department ensuring every detail, including food, is perfect for the audience, even if from afar.
Plotkin observed the opening night of the latest ‘Bohème’ revival, noting that Freddie de Tommaso, playing Rodolfo, appeared to take only the tiniest bite of the baguette Marquez had secured. “If he did eat anything,” Plotkin said, “it was just the tiniest bit because he didn’t want to get anything stuck in his throat.”
Regardless of whether the food is actually consumed or appreciated by the audience, the preparation for each performance remains an exercise in single-minded focus and intensity, from the initial shopping expedition to the frantic backstage rush just before the curtain.
“Thirty minutes until curtain,” the stage manager announced on opening night. Marquez swiftly donned black latex gloves to arrange 30 bagels onto three sticks. He then dashed across the stage to place them on a cart destined for the bustling cafe scene. “Where’s the lox!” someone exclaimed as Marquez sprinted through a throng of stagehands, performers (including Lucas Meachem warming up to sing Marcello), directors, technicians, animal handlers, and even Met General Manager Peter Gelb.
When all the food is set up backstage, “it’s like almost a little mini restaurant,” said Jason Hamilton, the opera’s properties master.
Marquez returned to his preparation area, plating reheated chicken, French fries, and salad. “A carb, a protein, and a veggie,” he quipped before hurrying to another part of the stage. There, he deposited the plates on a prop shelf, where a cafe waiter would retrieve them, carefully removing the protective plastic wrap before serving them on stage. “It’s like almost a little mini restaurant,” commented Jason Hamilton, the opera’s properties master.
Then, it was back to his station to tear open packages of Oreos for a bowl. “We are at eight minutes until the start of the first act,” the stage manager declared.
“You have the crema?” Marquez shouted, “Does it go next to the bowl of grapes?”
This realism, however, doesn’t necessarily extend to historical accuracy. Popeyes chicken and bagels were certainly not staples on the streets of 1830s Paris. Yet, these particular items are Met traditions so ingrained that their origins are lost to time. Double Stuf Oreos? And wouldn’t fried chicken, with its lingering smell and greasy crumbs, be the last thing you’d want onstage during an opera? (“I think it was most convenient,” Hamilton reasoned. “I think there used to be a Kentucky Fried Chicken that was closer.”)
A visual sequence features performers dressed as 19th-century Parisians eating on a cafe set, backstage shelves laden with plastic-covered food plates, various sweets, and a dynamic video showcasing more backstage hustle. The overall message is that no extra food goes to waste after each performance.
Indeed, any leftover food finds a purpose. The biscuits accompanying the Popeyes chicken are shared among stagehands, while the highly coveted Oreos are closely guarded by Marquez until their stage debut. By the time the Met closes for the night, there’s rarely a bagel left in sight.
While other operas feature notable food scenes—’Don Giovanni,’ ‘Hansel and Gretel,’ ‘Tosca’—none rival ‘La Bohème’ at the Met in terms of sheer quantity and variety.
Marquez’s dedication stems from his time working front-of-house, where he always had an eye on the stage. “One day he came and asked, ‘Any chance I can get on the stage crew?’” Hamilton recalled. “He’s one of those guys I knew right away was right. He was the type that cared.”
Marquez, a self-proclaimed recent but fervent fan of opera, cites ‘Turandot,’ another Puccini classic directed by Zeffirelli at the Met, as his favorite. “I do love opera,” he affirmed. “Where I am now, I am grateful. Five years ago, I didn’t expect to be here.”