The longer we live in France, the fewer processed foods in our diet. One reason is practicality - we can't find the foods we love (Mexican!) in this country, so when we crave a fajitas, we make it ourselves. Another reasons is that the basic ingredients in France are just better than what we ever found in the US. The French really care about the quality of their food. And since quality is often related to where the food comes from, most make deliberate decisions based on geography when buying their produce. For example, most prefer not to buy produce from Spain (I haven't quite figured out why yet. People have told me that they don't treat workers well, other say that its very industrial).
Showing posts with label Quotidian. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Quotidian. Show all posts
Scout gets a new ride
It was the perfect city car. It wasn't pretty, but it was functional. We drove it fearlessly through Paris without worry of bumps and scratches since it had plenty already. But after two years, and multiple vacation car rentals, we decided that it was time to upgrade.
We thought about buying a new car. But driving a new car in a city where its denizens use bumpers as a parking aid seems a bit impractical. With lots of people at work coming and going, there is a good source of used cars.
We found a nice, well maintained, hardly driven 2008 Citroën. While its not as powerful as Thomas would have liked, it meets our needs for now. Scout has a ride to the park. We can do our weekly grocery shopping. We even planned a weekend trip to Loire. The only inconvenience is that it's a stick shift.
Road warrior
Lesson for today: Never fake not knowing a language unless you are fully committed to playing dumb.
Today was my first attempt of bike commuting here in France. There have been several obstacles to me getting on my bike: 1) the weather - its been either cold or rainy or both; 2) the hill between home and the office. The incline is only for a mile, but it's steep; 3) the patchy network of bike trails that appear and disappear with every other block.
With the temperature finally reaching 70 yesterday, there was one less excuse for not riding to work. Plus all the wine, cheese, and croissants in which I've been indulging have made biking those hills an imperative.
The first part of my ride this morning was quite enjoyable. I left by 8am- way before the time parents started taking the kiddies to school. The traffic was flowing and the park was calm.
The atmosphere from one side of the bridge from the other, however, couldn't be more different. One side of the Seine (the Garches side), my route took me through the Parc de Saint Cloud which consisted of trails and paths through the park with very few cars. Once I crossed the Seine, it turned to city commuting. On the other side of the bridge, the bike paths are not connected. You share the road with cars, buses and motos. Traffic is usually pretty heavy so speeding cars don't seem to be an issue.
I personally, don't think Paris is bike friendly. Vehicles do give you space when you are on your bike, but don't even think of riding on the sidewalk. Even though I often see motos and sometimes cars drive on the sidewalk to avoid traffic, the police were quick to stop me within just two minutes of getting on the sidewalk. I tried the "je ne comprend pas", hoping he would cut me some slack. He quickly realized though that I understood. That only made him angry. Next time, when I fake not knowing French, I will have to commit to faking not know the language.
Paris is in need of a bike advocacy group. If they had at least one route that went along the river from the western suburbs to Paris, I think more people would ride to work. It's not a long commute. It is certainly faster than taking the bus. It's just a shame that those of us who would like to bike to work have to act like road warriors.
 |
| Got lost and ended up here |
 |
| Daily Commute |
Wine-derful
At a wine tasting last Thursday, our host said that "wine is poetry in a bottle." A good bottle of wine can evoke your senses. It can back bring memories of laying in the grass, tip toeing through water running over a stone path in a brook, or strawberry jam at the farmer's market, and all without distractions. It can be bold or subtle. It demands focus. It demands your attention.
Thomas and I are by no means oenophiles, but we do like discovering new wines. And France is a great place to do a lot of discovering (and learning).
This weekend there was a salon for independent wine makers in Paris. Over a thousand oenologues presented their wines under one roof. We tasted wines from Bordeaux, Avignon, Lirac, and Champagne. The best part of today was speaking with the wine makers themselves. Who better to tell you about the wine than those who had a hand in its production. It was wonderful to speak with people who were proud of their work. We even met one of the founders of the salon at one of the stations selling his wines. He was a remarkable teacher (Thomas and I still have a lot to learn), which in my opinion made him a good salesman. We almost bought a case from him. Thomas and I had to hesitate a bit with the wine purchases. Many of the wines we purchased were not quite ready to drink. Before buying more of these types of wine, we would need to figure out where we would store them. Perhaps building a wine cave is a project for another weekend.
We came home with (literally) a backpack full of wine. Since we took the train, we needed a way to bring the wine home. We thought leaving the grocery chariot at home would help keep our purchases in check. Others brought their suitcases on rollers. There was some serious wine purchases going on at this event. People were stowing away wooden cases of wine in their Samsonite rolling bag.
These salons (wine and food) are definitely one thing the French know how to do well.
Thomas and I are by no means oenophiles, but we do like discovering new wines. And France is a great place to do a lot of discovering (and learning).
This weekend there was a salon for independent wine makers in Paris. Over a thousand oenologues presented their wines under one roof. We tasted wines from Bordeaux, Avignon, Lirac, and Champagne. The best part of today was speaking with the wine makers themselves. Who better to tell you about the wine than those who had a hand in its production. It was wonderful to speak with people who were proud of their work. We even met one of the founders of the salon at one of the stations selling his wines. He was a remarkable teacher (Thomas and I still have a lot to learn), which in my opinion made him a good salesman. We almost bought a case from him. Thomas and I had to hesitate a bit with the wine purchases. Many of the wines we purchased were not quite ready to drink. Before buying more of these types of wine, we would need to figure out where we would store them. Perhaps building a wine cave is a project for another weekend.
We came home with (literally) a backpack full of wine. Since we took the train, we needed a way to bring the wine home. We thought leaving the grocery chariot at home would help keep our purchases in check. Others brought their suitcases on rollers. There was some serious wine purchases going on at this event. People were stowing away wooden cases of wine in their Samsonite rolling bag.
These salons (wine and food) are definitely one thing the French know how to do well.
 |
| My favorite wine of the day. |
 |
| Salon du vigneron independant. |
 |
| Bordeux, Syrah, Chateau-neuf-du-pape, Sauternes, and cognac. A fruitful Sunday. |
Nothing speaks to the culture more than food
Last weekend was another food-centric weekend. Thomas and I decided that we should take a cooking class to learn about french cuisine. I found a self taught cook who gave classes out of his home in Versailles. His apartment looked out onto the King's kitchen garden situated next to the majestic Chateau of Versailles. I thought the location to be fitting for a french cooking class.
We weren't looking for a class on technique, but information and insight about the French and their food. The meal itself was OK, but the experience well worth the price. We used this opportunity to hear from the French about what they thought were typical dishes and ask questions about some of the products we've come across (fromage blanc for one). At times, I wanted paper and pencil to take notes throughout the dinner. We learned that they have three types of cream here in France - crème fraiche épaisse (we used in the gratin), crème fraiche liquide, and crème fleurette (we used in the crème brulée). We also learned that crème brulée is not just a dessert evident in the crème brulée appetizer that had muenster cheese in the cream mixture and topped with grated Parmesan that we had as an appetizer. We were informed that there is a small winery in Montemarte (Paris) that produces bad but expensive wine. We were also schooled on the difference between Provençal (anything related to the Provence region) and provincial (in the words of the French "anything out side of Paris").
We asked our dinner companions their choice of dishes that we should know how to make before leaving France. Their list included beef bourguinon (check), crèpes (check), quiche (check), and coq au vin (check). It looks like Thomas and I have been over achievers on the French cooking. Three of the four listed we made even before moving to France.
Sunday afternoon, our neighbors introduced us to the Indian quarter of Paris. It is located just south of Gare de Nord in the 10th arrondissment. Our neighbors took us to two shops. The only one whose name I can remember was VS CO Cash and Carry. These shops were replete with familiar (and wallet friendly) vegetables, ten varieties of rice, and an entire wall of spices. Thomas and I didn't really need anything, but that did not stop us from buying three different types of nuts, fennel, herbs of provence, haloumi cheese, and pita. After shopping we ate at Restaurant Dishny on the corner of Rue Cail and Rue Faubourg Saint-Denis. The simple decor of the restaurant does not reflect the complexity of spices in its dishes. It is hard to find dishes spiced authentically in a country where it's residents favor a subdued taste, so this restaurant was a welcome changed. I ordered the shrimp biryani (rice dish). The mound of saffron colored shrimp and rice was speckled with fresh mint, cardamon seeds, and green chilies. This did not come out of a box. Delicious! Needless to say, the Indian quarter is quite authentic. There was narry a European in sight - you know this ethnic scene was legit.
Next month, the Asian quarter!
We weren't looking for a class on technique, but information and insight about the French and their food. The meal itself was OK, but the experience well worth the price. We used this opportunity to hear from the French about what they thought were typical dishes and ask questions about some of the products we've come across (fromage blanc for one). At times, I wanted paper and pencil to take notes throughout the dinner. We learned that they have three types of cream here in France - crème fraiche épaisse (we used in the gratin), crème fraiche liquide, and crème fleurette (we used in the crème brulée). We also learned that crème brulée is not just a dessert evident in the crème brulée appetizer that had muenster cheese in the cream mixture and topped with grated Parmesan that we had as an appetizer. We were informed that there is a small winery in Montemarte (Paris) that produces bad but expensive wine. We were also schooled on the difference between Provençal (anything related to the Provence region) and provincial (in the words of the French "anything out side of Paris").
We asked our dinner companions their choice of dishes that we should know how to make before leaving France. Their list included beef bourguinon (check), crèpes (check), quiche (check), and coq au vin (check). It looks like Thomas and I have been over achievers on the French cooking. Three of the four listed we made even before moving to France.
Sunday afternoon, our neighbors introduced us to the Indian quarter of Paris. It is located just south of Gare de Nord in the 10th arrondissment. Our neighbors took us to two shops. The only one whose name I can remember was VS CO Cash and Carry. These shops were replete with familiar (and wallet friendly) vegetables, ten varieties of rice, and an entire wall of spices. Thomas and I didn't really need anything, but that did not stop us from buying three different types of nuts, fennel, herbs of provence, haloumi cheese, and pita. After shopping we ate at Restaurant Dishny on the corner of Rue Cail and Rue Faubourg Saint-Denis. The simple decor of the restaurant does not reflect the complexity of spices in its dishes. It is hard to find dishes spiced authentically in a country where it's residents favor a subdued taste, so this restaurant was a welcome changed. I ordered the shrimp biryani (rice dish). The mound of saffron colored shrimp and rice was speckled with fresh mint, cardamon seeds, and green chilies. This did not come out of a box. Delicious! Needless to say, the Indian quarter is quite authentic. There was narry a European in sight - you know this ethnic scene was legit.
Next month, the Asian quarter!
 |
| Savory crème brulée |
 |
| Beef Bourguignon and potatoes au gratin |
 |
| Poached pear in a red wine reduction syrup. |
 |
| Passing by the Arc de Triomphe |
 |
| Fresh produce at the Indian shop. Notice the banana flowers in the corner. |
 |
| Spices! |
Hot Topics
I've started to read French newspapers. I was starting to feel ashamed at my dearth of knowledge on current event topics - especially given the fact that Europeans can debate American politics almost as good as anyone I've met in DC. I had to start reading up on what was going on in France or at least Paris. American newspapers don't have enough international news and certainly very little about France, so I had to start reading Le Figaro, Le Monde, and France24 (which is in English).
Some hot topics during the last few days include - Same sex marriage and adoption reform in France. This was one of Hollande's campaign promises. I noticed some mobilization by the Catholic Church against the law last fall. The homilies I've heard here in France have been mostly academic, but I did take notice when the Priest pointedly started talking about how marriage should be defined. Soon after, it was a hot topic during dinner parties. Pamphlets, against the law, started appearing around town. The big news this weekend, was the huge protest (half a million reportedly) in Paris on Sunday. Hollande still intends to push for the reform. It is to be presented to parliament at the end of the month. Detractors of the law claim they are mostly against the idea of same sex couple adopting children - they need to protect the children who don't have a choice when it comes to choosing parents.
Headlines today also include France's military operations in Africa. One was a failed attempt to rescue a French hostage in Somalia. The other was the Malian-French joint operation to retake control of the Islamist controlled north. There is heightened security here in Paris because of threats by these rebels - a response to France's action in West Africa. This means there are more armed military personnel on the streets of Paris. Reminds me a bit of living in DC. I'm not sure if I'm ever going to get used to that.
On a lighter note, snow also made the front page of some French news website. This is only the second day in the last two months where we've actually seen the white stuff. It is forecast through tomorrow, so maybe we can get some decent ground cover. I was warned though that if it snows, I may not be able to get into work tomorrow. They could be right. We were walking home from the train station about two hours after the snow started. No one had treated the roads. If it is in the same state tomorrow morning, I could be working from home... If that is the case, I am going to stop by the supermarket to see if the French react to snow storms like Washingtonians - stocking up on toilet paper, milk, bread, and eggs like it is the end of days.
Off topic. Thomas and I went to a gathering of Americans living in Paris this evening. We worked our table gathering information on where folks have found things like real American bacon (I am still on a mission to find it here!). Folks were jealous that we had an oven (a luxury here in Paris). There were even some crazy Americans there... and not crazy in a fun way. A regular who provides some local color to the meetings and thinks the organization is there to solve her problems created a scene. As a bystander and non participant, it was a little funny especially when the crazy lady would respond to people's pleads by repeating what the other person said. Not so funny when the crazy lady stared at me as I ate my burger. This is why we do not live in the city...
Jury still out on heath care
I've been to the doctors a few times here in France. Mostly for routine stuff and once because of what turned out to be bronchitis. Each time, I compare the US system with the French and try to rationalize why the health care in France is so much cheaper than in the US. I don't know all the details of the French system (how much the government subsidizes doctors and pharmaceuticals), but I do know that I've never had to wait to see the doctor more than a week when making an appointment. When I was sick with bronchitis I saw the doctor that same day. I did have to wait an hour because it was first come first serve and there were a few patients a head of me, but I was able to see him and he prescribed a laundry list of medications. Seems like a lot... it was a lot... he said to use a couple if I needed it (had a fever, aches and pains etc). I used them judiciously.
The few things I've noticed here is the simplicity of the system -- I'm not taking equipment, the doctors I've seen have state of the art stuff. But they have minimal staff (the bronchitis doctor, put in my medical information himself while he talked to me). Except for medical notes, medical records like x-rays are given to the patient for safe guarding and delivery to their primary care physician. And responsibilities that in the US would be given to some staffer in the medical office is left to the patient. For example, today, I went to get my annual gyno exam (mainly the pap smear). I was surprised when the doctor handed the vial with my specimen and said that I was to put that along with a check for 25 euros in a box and send it to the address on the envelope. No warning for the mail carrier of the contents in the box. No concern about the chain of custody of the specimen. Perhaps the US is an overly concern society. None the less, the smaller staff would certainly cut down costs.
The systems in the two countries are different. I do like the transparency of things in France. You know exactly how much things cost; There is not a different price schemes for insurance companies than for patients who pay out of pocket. But I also like how my doctors in the US explained things to me. It is different. I have yet to decide which one is better.
A day of thanks
 |
| 2012 Thanksgiving meal. Or as we say in France- the meal we ate on Thursday Nov 22nd. |
This year, Thomas and I decided that we would not make a traditional meal. At this point, we don't know enough people who would appreciate such an effort. We will celebrate it - sort of - tomorrow. Thomas has an American friend who lives in Italy. He and his wife are visiting Paris this weekend, so tomorrow we will go out to dinner. I'm sure it will be nice. But no turkey. no pumpkin pie. no stuffing.
In France, they don't celebrate Thanksgiving, so there aren't many people to share in the anticipation. It is just another ordinary Thursday. To try to make today not so ordinary we included a few festive dishes to tonight's dinner. It made us feel a little less disconnected with everyone in the States. While not the traditional turkey Thanksgiving day dinner, we came close. Today's dinner was lamb with homemade stuffing and green bean casserole. In my opinion, Thanksgiving isn't really Thanksgiving without the green bean casserole.
The stuffing was your basic recipe. It was good, but not extraordinary, although I do recommend using a day old baguette because it soaks up the butter and chicken broth nicely. The green bean casserole was a nice find on allrecipes.com. It uses a tasty, easy to make cream sauce instead of cream of mushroom soup and caramelized onions and planko instead of french's onion. I'm glad we included a little bit of Thanksgiving in our new French life. Making time for family and friends that includes good food and desserts sounds like a good idea no matter in which country one lives.
Happy Thanksgiving to all.
Things I am grateful for:
* My husband who is generous, caring, smart, and industrious
* Our two beagles who are loyal, reliable, and great bed pre-warmers
* Family and friends and the ability to skype and facetime with them
* The opportunity to live here in France
Strike one!
The French strike as often as the seasons change. Transportation networks are infamous for protesting with a work slow down on at least one of their lines. I've been told that striking on the RER B is particularly endemic. There is such a high degree of strikes on the train system that there are several websites dedicated to giving commuters information before and during the strikes. I suppose one was bound to impact my commute eventually. Turns out that time would be tomorrow.
The strikers are at least thoughtful enough to announce their strike a full week ahead. It's also rarely a work stoppage. For the most part, trains are on an extremely reduce schedule- instead of every 8 minutes, it's ever half hour.
I wonder if train strikes in France are like snow days in DC. The thought of one snowflake hitting the ground in DC meant that Federal workers are on a liberal leave policy (they can telework or take unscheduled leave). Do the French have a policy for transportation slow downs? I guess I will ask tomorrow when I go to work.
I wonder how crowded the trains will be in the morning. Do people stay home when the strike is this widespread (it's all the train lines in France)? The tram was almost empty on my way home today- I guess everyone but me got the memo that strike was starting today at 7 pm.
Ironically, I don't take the train to work, but because of an office retreat I need to take the train into Paris. And, judging from these photos, I don't think I am going to have a fun commute tomorrow...
http://www.grevesncf.com/index.php/photos/54/une-greve-de-plus-jpf-75--les-jeunes-pour-la-france-de
Train schedule during the strike. Usually there is a train every 8 minutes in the morning.
The strikers are at least thoughtful enough to announce their strike a full week ahead. It's also rarely a work stoppage. For the most part, trains are on an extremely reduce schedule- instead of every 8 minutes, it's ever half hour.
I wonder if train strikes in France are like snow days in DC. The thought of one snowflake hitting the ground in DC meant that Federal workers are on a liberal leave policy (they can telework or take unscheduled leave). Do the French have a policy for transportation slow downs? I guess I will ask tomorrow when I go to work.
I wonder how crowded the trains will be in the morning. Do people stay home when the strike is this widespread (it's all the train lines in France)? The tram was almost empty on my way home today- I guess everyone but me got the memo that strike was starting today at 7 pm.
Ironically, I don't take the train to work, but because of an office retreat I need to take the train into Paris. And, judging from these photos, I don't think I am going to have a fun commute tomorrow...
http://www.grevesncf.com/index.php/photos/54/une-greve-de-plus-jpf-75--les-jeunes-pour-la-france-de
Train schedule during the strike. Usually there is a train every 8 minutes in the morning.
Prévisions de circulation des trains | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| Sur la ligne L:ST NOM LA BRETECHE-PARIS ST LAZARE, voici les horaires de la gare de départ: | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
|
Rainy Daze
It has been raining non-stop for about two weeks now here in France. Because of the weather, our time has been spent indoors (mostly recovering from this cold that Thomas and I keep passing onto each other). The wet weather also leaves us two choices as far as things to do -- baking and hitting the museums -- and this weekend was no different.
Yesterday, I tried channeling my inner french chef and decided to try my hand at making a chocolate souffle. There is something about being in France that makes me want to cook - and not just scrabbled eggs, but dishes that tantalize the gourmand in us. I think this is because markets with fresh and colorful ingredients are close by, and I often walk pass pastry and chocolate shops run by not just shop keepers but by artists who take great pride in their work. With fresh and artful food everywhere, how can I not be inspired? My sparse kitchen skills will put a limit on what I can do. Thankfully, there are surprisingly many dishes that seem fancy, but take only minutes to prepare. The chocolate soufflé is one of them.
This recipe from epicurious involves only 3 ingredients - (good quality) chocolate, eggs, and sugar. The only special tool you need is the soufflé pan. After 40 minutes of melting, whipping, folding, and baking we had a delicious, airy, and deep dark chocolaty after dinner treat. I hope all french desserts are this easy. Next time, I might try my hand at chocolate eclairs!
Thomas and I also decided that we need to explore our area, which is quite easy given the fact that in France you are always a day trip away from some Chateau of a famous French, historical figure. This weekend's trip took us to the neighboring town of Port-Marly to visit Alexandre Dumas' house. Alexandre Dumas, if you recall from AP English class, wrote high adventure fiction such as The Three Musketeers and The Count of Monte Cristo. His "country" house, which was converted into a museum, included a chateau, formal gardens, and what Thomas called a "man cave" (a separate house on the estate where he worked on his novels). The small museum showcased his heritage, his life, and his life's work.
The trip to the museum was also our first outing with our new, old car. What should have been a 20 minute drive, became 40 minutes even with the Tom Tom GPS. The routes are marked clearly, but we could not figured out how to determine direction. The French clearly do not designate routes like they do in the states (pairing route names with cardinal directions. Route 51 South for example). The GPS told us to take route A13, but we would inevitable take the A13 going the opposite direction. We think that it's like taking the metro. Direction is indicated by the end of the line, so you have to know that A13 Paris is heading SE, while Rouen is heading NW. And just like the bus line, if you miss your stop/exit, it is miles (or kilometers) before you can turn around and head back in the other direction.
At least we figured out which gas to use for the car (thank goodness for a working smartphone with internet connection!). Gazole is french for diesel, sans plomb is unleaded, and then they give you a choice of octane amount. We were just glad we didn't put diesel in the Nissan!
Yesterday, I tried channeling my inner french chef and decided to try my hand at making a chocolate souffle. There is something about being in France that makes me want to cook - and not just scrabbled eggs, but dishes that tantalize the gourmand in us. I think this is because markets with fresh and colorful ingredients are close by, and I often walk pass pastry and chocolate shops run by not just shop keepers but by artists who take great pride in their work. With fresh and artful food everywhere, how can I not be inspired? My sparse kitchen skills will put a limit on what I can do. Thankfully, there are surprisingly many dishes that seem fancy, but take only minutes to prepare. The chocolate soufflé is one of them.
This recipe from epicurious involves only 3 ingredients - (good quality) chocolate, eggs, and sugar. The only special tool you need is the soufflé pan. After 40 minutes of melting, whipping, folding, and baking we had a delicious, airy, and deep dark chocolaty after dinner treat. I hope all french desserts are this easy. Next time, I might try my hand at chocolate eclairs!
Thomas and I also decided that we need to explore our area, which is quite easy given the fact that in France you are always a day trip away from some Chateau of a famous French, historical figure. This weekend's trip took us to the neighboring town of Port-Marly to visit Alexandre Dumas' house. Alexandre Dumas, if you recall from AP English class, wrote high adventure fiction such as The Three Musketeers and The Count of Monte Cristo. His "country" house, which was converted into a museum, included a chateau, formal gardens, and what Thomas called a "man cave" (a separate house on the estate where he worked on his novels). The small museum showcased his heritage, his life, and his life's work.
 |
| Chateau Monte Cristo - Alexandre Dumas' country home. |
 |
| The house across from the Chateau where Dumas wrote - what Thomas has dubbed as the "man cave" |
 |
| Dumas' desk in the man cave. |
 |
| Beautiful architectural detail. |
The trip to the museum was also our first outing with our new, old car. What should have been a 20 minute drive, became 40 minutes even with the Tom Tom GPS. The routes are marked clearly, but we could not figured out how to determine direction. The French clearly do not designate routes like they do in the states (pairing route names with cardinal directions. Route 51 South for example). The GPS told us to take route A13, but we would inevitable take the A13 going the opposite direction. We think that it's like taking the metro. Direction is indicated by the end of the line, so you have to know that A13 Paris is heading SE, while Rouen is heading NW. And just like the bus line, if you miss your stop/exit, it is miles (or kilometers) before you can turn around and head back in the other direction.
At least we figured out which gas to use for the car (thank goodness for a working smartphone with internet connection!). Gazole is french for diesel, sans plomb is unleaded, and then they give you a choice of octane amount. We were just glad we didn't put diesel in the Nissan!
Amped up
Thomas and I have learned a very expensive lesson. You cannot just buy a plug adapter so US plugs fit French outlets and expect US purchased appliances to work in France since most US appliances run only on 110 volts. Before plugging anything in ... in fact before packing it up and shipping it over, it is best to check that electronics will be able to work on France's 220 Volt electric system. Thankfully most laptops can work on voltages between 100-240V. I had no fear of ruining my new Toshiba laptop by plugging it in here in France. Unfortunately, we were not so lucky with our not-even-a-year-old Dyson vacuum cleaner. We even bought a voltage converter for it. But as soon as we plugged in the Dyson into the converter and then the converter into the French outlet we heard a small thud. This was either the fuse blowing, the Dyson crapping out on us, or both. A quick google search (which we should have done back in the States) led us to believe that even with a converter, the Dyson is not going to work or at best the motor will wear out before long. Same story with our fancy schmancy Cuisinart coffee maker. Lesson learned this week - check voltage requirements, and leave incompatible electronics at home.
On a happy note, we are getting a free car from some one who is leaving the organization and heading back to the States. He also received the car for free, so now he is just paying it forward. It's a 1997 Nissan Primera. It's old, but it's clean. And, it functions. Having a car should make grocery shopping easier. Sometimes we have to make two trips into the center of town because we can't fit everything in our shopping caddy and shopping baskets. We are also looking forward to some weekend road trips!
On a happy note, we are getting a free car from some one who is leaving the organization and heading back to the States. He also received the car for free, so now he is just paying it forward. It's a 1997 Nissan Primera. It's old, but it's clean. And, it functions. Having a car should make grocery shopping easier. Sometimes we have to make two trips into the center of town because we can't fit everything in our shopping caddy and shopping baskets. We are also looking forward to some weekend road trips!
Voted
Overseas Americans have the right to vote. Our last domiciled address is our legal voting residence. This means that we get to vote in the swing state of VA.
Requesting the ballot was easy (we did it online at FVAP.org). In a few weeks we received our absentee ballots in the mail.
Thomas and I decided to vote this evening so we could mail them tomorrow - ensuring that the VA Board of Elections would get it by the end of the official voting day.
I once thought that absentee voting wasn't the same as going to the polls -- that the votes didn't count as much -- since they don't wait for the ballots sent by mail to be counted before calling the election (they being the media). However, that is incorrect. An election cannot be certified until all the ballots are counted. All votes count. All votes matter.
It is a good feeling to vote. Filling in the circles besides my selected candidate always make me feel empowered. I like to feel I helped my candidate get elected... that he or she couldn't win without me.
Requesting the ballot was easy (we did it online at FVAP.org). In a few weeks we received our absentee ballots in the mail.
Thomas and I decided to vote this evening so we could mail them tomorrow - ensuring that the VA Board of Elections would get it by the end of the official voting day.
I once thought that absentee voting wasn't the same as going to the polls -- that the votes didn't count as much -- since they don't wait for the ballots sent by mail to be counted before calling the election (they being the media). However, that is incorrect. An election cannot be certified until all the ballots are counted. All votes count. All votes matter.
It is a good feeling to vote. Filling in the circles besides my selected candidate always make me feel empowered. I like to feel I helped my candidate get elected... that he or she couldn't win without me.
 |
| They even send you an "I voted" sticker. I may post this in my office. |
 |
| Molly helped Thomas make his selection... not really. |
We have way too much stuff
The movers came and went on Wednesday. After two months sleeping on an air mattress and living in an apartment with only a table, two chairs, and one floor lamp, I am grateful to finally have a couch to sit on and a down comforter to cuddle under. It took the three guys about three hours to unload the truck - all 81 boxes. I wasn't sure if it was all going to fit in our tiny apartment. We have a lot of stuff... too much. We lived the previous month with just two plates, two sets of utensils and wine glasses, one saute pan, and pan to boil water... while we had to plan how we cooked our dinners, we survived. But now that I am staring at our cupboard, I wonder why we need four different types of bowls (two types of cereal. two types of soup), three wine openers, eight sets of napkins and four cutting boards. Everything fit in our Arlington apartment, but here in France where space is a premium, I am of the opinion that we have too much stuff. I can understand why people see America as a land of excess. Although, compared with the miniature/doll house size furniture, cars and apartments, even normal American thing seem supersized. Our dishwasher can't fit our American plates (they are too tall). We had to leave all our baking sheets in the US, because they won't fit in our small oven. And because our closest space is now reduced by 75%, sadly I think need to re-evaluate my wardrobe. Our life in France includes a bit of purging, which is probably a good thing.
 |
| The echoing will finally stop! |
 |
| Living space! |
 |
| Only a few casualties. |
Market Meals
We have been taking advantage of having a farmers markets just 10 minutes from the apartment. The trip to the center of town has become a Saturday morning tradition, and finding recipes that take advantage of the fresh produce has been a weekly challenge.
Almost everything we cook is from the market. We have enjoyed the hand made pasta and ravioli with veal. I made a quiche Loraine (including a homemade crust). Yesterday we had scallops with an endive salad and raspberry vinaigrette. This Saturday's market brought a couple selling oysters -- they even sold us the special knife to shuck them open for tonight's appetizers. This weekend ended with grilled steak, roasted sweet potatoes and asparagus. Most meals have been healthy. We do need to down size the portions. When we ask the vendors a quantity for two people, I think they really give us enough for three. Even in France, making a profit is an objective. But, we're learning. Next time, we'll just ask for one serving.
Almost everything we cook is from the market. We have enjoyed the hand made pasta and ravioli with veal. I made a quiche Loraine (including a homemade crust). Yesterday we had scallops with an endive salad and raspberry vinaigrette. This Saturday's market brought a couple selling oysters -- they even sold us the special knife to shuck them open for tonight's appetizers. This weekend ended with grilled steak, roasted sweet potatoes and asparagus. Most meals have been healthy. We do need to down size the portions. When we ask the vendors a quantity for two people, I think they really give us enough for three. Even in France, making a profit is an objective. But, we're learning. Next time, we'll just ask for one serving.
 |
| Veal, with homemade pasta, and roasted red peppers and broccoli. |
 |
| Quiche Loraine |
 |
| Salad, homemade ravioli, and veal. |
 |
| Scallops with orange, asparagus and endive salad. |
 |
| Fresh from the market oysters. |
 |
| Steak, sweet potatoes, and asparagus. |
Weekly Market Outing
I am absolutely loving the fact that we are a ten minute walk from our bi-weekly open air market. Each Wednesday and Saturday morning the central square brims with life as dozens of vendors bring to Garches peppers, raspberries, leeks, flowers, homemade pasta, cured meats, roasted chicken, cheeses, and freshly baked bread. It is a gourmand's paradise. There are even folks who sell crepes and fresh orange juice, as well as paella, Chinese and Lebanese food.
Each Saturday, Thomas and I head to the market to buy the ingredients for the meals that we'll have over the next few days. Tomorrow, I decided to make a quiche Loraine so we bought something bacon like. It was not exactly bacon because the butcher ran out of that, but he recommended this smoked something or other (he did tell me what it was, but I can't remember). I trusted his judgement. I told him what I was making, and I was happy to take his recommendation. We also bought some homemade pasta, and some veal. For the veal, we went to the butcher that Thomas befriended last week. He spoke only a little English so it took us (me, Thomas, the butcher, and his wife) to figure how to tell them that we wanted veal. They were patient and are always friendly and helpful when interacting with us. After trying to describe what we wanted to buy in broken French and the butcher listing all the meats he had, I pulled out my iphone and just googled it. His eyes lit up when he realized what we were asking for: "escalope de veau." Now we will know how to ask for it next time.
The market is always fun. Seeing all that fresh foods, also makes me want to cook better. Perhaps a cooking class is in our near future.
Each Saturday, Thomas and I head to the market to buy the ingredients for the meals that we'll have over the next few days. Tomorrow, I decided to make a quiche Loraine so we bought something bacon like. It was not exactly bacon because the butcher ran out of that, but he recommended this smoked something or other (he did tell me what it was, but I can't remember). I trusted his judgement. I told him what I was making, and I was happy to take his recommendation. We also bought some homemade pasta, and some veal. For the veal, we went to the butcher that Thomas befriended last week. He spoke only a little English so it took us (me, Thomas, the butcher, and his wife) to figure how to tell them that we wanted veal. They were patient and are always friendly and helpful when interacting with us. After trying to describe what we wanted to buy in broken French and the butcher listing all the meats he had, I pulled out my iphone and just googled it. His eyes lit up when he realized what we were asking for: "escalope de veau." Now we will know how to ask for it next time.
The market is always fun. Seeing all that fresh foods, also makes me want to cook better. Perhaps a cooking class is in our near future.
 |
| Crepes, coffee, and freshly squeezed OJ break. |
 |
| Handmade Pasta Guy |
 |
| Market is always at the town center next to the Church. |
Je ne parle pas bien français
I have to give props to Thomas. He has been in France just a little over a week. For someone who speaks very little French in a country where most people do not speak English, he has surprisingly kept a good attitude. When you don't speak the same language as the people around you, it's like you exist in a bubble. You smile and walk around, but there is little connection with the world that is passing by. People try to be friendly, but you don't understand their encouraging or helpful words. This outsider existence can get frustrating very fast.
For the most part he is making the most of the situation. Daily errands become opportunities for learning. His journeys to the post office, the butcher in the market, the baker for his croissants, and the dry cleaners are where he finds his 20 minute French tutors. He will try to speak French when ordering his bread or dropping off the dry cleaning. Since he does the errands during the week day, most shop keepers, without many customers, can be patient enough to correct his French. As Thomas says. "the people in this country exist for me to learn French." That is the best outlook to have. When I lived in Burkina Faso. I did not speak to anyone in French for my first year (for fear of making mistakes). It wasn't until my second year that I realized that my French will never be perfect, and it will certainly never improve if I don't speak - flaws and all. It's good that Thomas has made this discovery at the beginning of our adventure in France.
After one week, his French has improved. He is making an effort in conjugating his verbs, and he watches his tenses. A friend of his told him to just say things in English, but with a French accent. That is not a bad strategy and is something I do when I don't know the French vocabulary. Thomas has chosen a different route-- which consists of making up words. Today he discovered that he has been pronouncing "maintenant" (=now) incorrectly saying "maintama". He also has made up the word "sessama" thinking it meant "next week" (la semaine prochaine). The pronunciation problem could be one reason why he gets the confused looks from the French. Or why he got two crepes (deux ) instead of buttered crepes (beurre) at the market today. For some deux (pronounced like dew) and beurre (pronounced like ber) rolls differently off the tongue. For Thomas, apparently he says them the same way.
He is doing great, and his French can only get better in time. I keep reminding him that he has only been here a week. He has a a session twice a week with a conversation tutor. He starts a two day a week French class at a local association, and he has all of France to help him improve his French. I think by the end of the year, he will be having conversations and not just lessons with the French.
For the most part he is making the most of the situation. Daily errands become opportunities for learning. His journeys to the post office, the butcher in the market, the baker for his croissants, and the dry cleaners are where he finds his 20 minute French tutors. He will try to speak French when ordering his bread or dropping off the dry cleaning. Since he does the errands during the week day, most shop keepers, without many customers, can be patient enough to correct his French. As Thomas says. "the people in this country exist for me to learn French." That is the best outlook to have. When I lived in Burkina Faso. I did not speak to anyone in French for my first year (for fear of making mistakes). It wasn't until my second year that I realized that my French will never be perfect, and it will certainly never improve if I don't speak - flaws and all. It's good that Thomas has made this discovery at the beginning of our adventure in France.
After one week, his French has improved. He is making an effort in conjugating his verbs, and he watches his tenses. A friend of his told him to just say things in English, but with a French accent. That is not a bad strategy and is something I do when I don't know the French vocabulary. Thomas has chosen a different route-- which consists of making up words. Today he discovered that he has been pronouncing "maintenant" (=now) incorrectly saying "maintama". He also has made up the word "sessama" thinking it meant "next week" (la semaine prochaine). The pronunciation problem could be one reason why he gets the confused looks from the French. Or why he got two crepes (deux ) instead of buttered crepes (beurre) at the market today. For some deux (pronounced like dew) and beurre (pronounced like ber) rolls differently off the tongue. For Thomas, apparently he says them the same way.
He is doing great, and his French can only get better in time. I keep reminding him that he has only been here a week. He has a a session twice a week with a conversation tutor. He starts a two day a week French class at a local association, and he has all of France to help him improve his French. I think by the end of the year, he will be having conversations and not just lessons with the French.
 |
| Beurre. This one has flecks of salt. After using unsalted butter for years, this is a bit too salty. However, on a baguette with strawberry jams, the salt and sweet combination makes you forget just how bad it is for you. |
Community
On Friday, I had a conversation with a former colleague who also happens to be French. He asked me if I thought French weekly markets were different from Farmer's Markets in the US. My opinion (which he generally agreed), was that the variety and quality were the same, but there was a mark up in price in the US. US Farmers markets are showcased as having better quality produce and more homemade (time intensive) items than the grocery store. Here in France, the quality of the vegetables at our bi-weekly market in Garches are definitely better than what I've found in the grocery stores, but the prices don't seem to be higher. Every community has a market, and that is just where people do their weekly shopping. There seems to be no reason to have higher prices in the market.
However, after spending yesterday morning in our town square market I realized the one major difference between open air markets in the two countries -- community. Precisely because every community here in France has a market, and these markets are where people do their weekly shopping, this is the place to see neighbors. Every Saturday morning, you see the same people at this central place. Most folks, including Thomas and myself, make the morning of it. There are three cafés on the square, and they are often filled with Garchois families conversing over coffee (and sometimes beer -despite being only eleven in the morning). Thomas and I often stop by Chez Bad, the crêpe maker I met during my first visit to Garches. Since we don't have our coffee marker yet, we look forward to our regular visits to his crêperie to have a café crème on Saturdays.
Now that we are in the rentré (the moment when everyone comes back from their vacation) Garches has come to life. Thomas arrived just in time to see how active this community is. This weekend was Garches "community day" - at least that is what I'm calling it. They had fireworks on Saturday night. Today there were games and food at the town square. There was a mini conference in the town gymnasium where all the club and associations had tables and people can sign up and join their group. Thomas and I talked to people from the Rotary Club, a running group, a rock climbing group, and even an association that helps people learn to speak French. In thirty minutes we managed to find lots of ways both fun and useful to spend our time here in France -- and all in the community of Garches. It was a delightful way to spend a Sunday.
However, after spending yesterday morning in our town square market I realized the one major difference between open air markets in the two countries -- community. Precisely because every community here in France has a market, and these markets are where people do their weekly shopping, this is the place to see neighbors. Every Saturday morning, you see the same people at this central place. Most folks, including Thomas and myself, make the morning of it. There are three cafés on the square, and they are often filled with Garchois families conversing over coffee (and sometimes beer -despite being only eleven in the morning). Thomas and I often stop by Chez Bad, the crêpe maker I met during my first visit to Garches. Since we don't have our coffee marker yet, we look forward to our regular visits to his crêperie to have a café crème on Saturdays.
Now that we are in the rentré (the moment when everyone comes back from their vacation) Garches has come to life. Thomas arrived just in time to see how active this community is. This weekend was Garches "community day" - at least that is what I'm calling it. They had fireworks on Saturday night. Today there were games and food at the town square. There was a mini conference in the town gymnasium where all the club and associations had tables and people can sign up and join their group. Thomas and I talked to people from the Rotary Club, a running group, a rock climbing group, and even an association that helps people learn to speak French. In thirty minutes we managed to find lots of ways both fun and useful to spend our time here in France -- and all in the community of Garches. It was a delightful way to spend a Sunday.
 |
| Garches, all decked out for it's community day. |
 |
| There was even a parade with a band. |
 |
| Not bad for my first time at target practice. |
 |
| Barbe a Papa = Cotton Candy |
 |
| The French do not know how to make a hotdog. Baguettes are good, but not as a bun. |
 |
| But they do know how to make good fries. |