Ah, food. When one thinks about France, a few topics will immediately come to mind: haute couture, Provence, wine, and of course Julia Child--the French Chef. We have not had a bad meal yet. In fact, we've eaten so well that I am already planning my workout routine after our return for fear I will have gained several pounds.
Salmon has figured into several meals. It has always been served with a light cream sauce, not the heavy cream sauce we make in the states. I want the recipe. Dale had steak tartar one night. While in Honfleur, a coastal town, Bob and Glen had mussels as the main course. To eat these, you take the first one out with a fork, but then you use that mussel shell to eat and remove the remaining mussels. They were tasty, and are always served with pommes frites (French fries--I am pretty sure the French can't mess those up!)
Outside of Paris, most meals are served as a two or three course meal. Start with an entree, followed by a main course, then dessert. Even the main course generally includes some sort of potato and vegetables. And of course, we usually share a bottle of wine. Coffee is after dinner and an espresso, served in a tiny cup, which is a bit difficult to pick up. I've ordered it with milk, which comes steamed and is about 4 or 5 times the amount of coffee. A yummy after dinner treat.
Traveling in Europe brings out my desire to make those same dishes at home. Feel free to call when we get home and invite yourself for dinner. Panna cotta is on the list.
We are now in Paris and staying in an apartment. This morning, Bob and I walked down the street a couple blocks to find bread and fruit for breakfast. Within two blocks, there are at least three nice bakeries. My French is pathetic, but I can smile, and show the count on my fingers to show what I would like. And of course, it helps to have Bob along to actually ask them in French. (Note from Bob: Connie's smile is much more effective than my French.)
Now on to bathrooms. Yes, an odd topic to post about. When I lived in Germany, we bantered about the possibility of writing a book about all the various toilets in Europe. That never came about, but every time I travel to Europe I think about it again, and this trip is no exception.
So far, we have walked into more than one where things were just plain weird. At the airport, the water started pouring out of an automatic faucet that seemed about to soak the front of me. Then the soap dispenser was so hard to push, I wasn't really sure what it was. The paper towels are few and far between, with hand dryers that must take about five minutes to actually dry your hands.
Melanie and I encountered a bathroom on the auto route (freeway) yesterday that left us shaking our heads. Thankfully, we were on the women's side, but I did see a man come out of it! When we walked in the stall, it was tiled, with a hole in the floor. The tp was on the back wall. After using it, water automatically started pouring out of places on three sides, at about ankle level. It was lucky that we got out of the way before our feet became soaked!
And these are just two examples of navigating bathrooms in France. Aren't you glad I don't have pictures?!
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