When In Rome...Eat Like Parisians

Amsterdam Canals

From Holland, our journey took us to Paris, France.  Having not been to Paris in almost ten years, the prospect of visiting a major city was quite exciting.  That, and sampling the cuisine.  For better or for worse, Melinda and I decided to try those things that seem rather stereotypical, although I did ask a nice lady if the French indeed ate French onion soup.  They do.

Sun-ny Days, Chasing the Clouds Away

My wife's French skills are somewhat better than my ability to speak Dutch.  Certainly, the phrase "I am alone and I cannot read" is important, because it signifies that you have no idea what you are ordering from a menu and - as there are two of us - people thought we had (as the Scots say) lost the plot.  I sometimes become flustered in a situation that deviates from a prescribed course.  For example, whilst preparing for a meal I memorized the phrase "We would like some cheese."  After practicing for an hour, I deemed us ready to venture forth and have supper.  Having been asked what we want to eat, I dutifully answered with my pre-recorded script.  However, the follow-up question surprised me ("Where are you from?") and I responded with a mix of Dutch and French: "The egg is again watching the speed bump.  My aunt cannot read.  Yes." 

Pesky seagulls got into these snails...

Despite a slight language barrier, we had a wonderful time and ate cheese plates as large as the tire on a Land Rover.  Included in our diet was: escargo (they tried to escape but were too slow), the already-mentioned cheese plate (with Bleu, Camembert, Gruyere, Gorgonzola, and Brie),  creme brulee, chocolate mousse, duck liver pate, foie gras, and frogs legs.  Now, for lunch we ate...(I jest - maybe).  

"It's not easy, being green..."

Many people were intrigued that we were from Virginia, or "The South" as it is more commonly called.  In Europe, it appears that people conjure certain images when they discuss states such as Virginia, North Carolina, or Texas.  But, they find it amusing that I play the banjo, eat cheese plates, and drink coffee that will make mustache hairs recoil with fright.  

Foie gras on a bed of flambeed apples