Adventure 2: Visiting Old Things

Greetings all,

I don't know about you, but when I think of France, I think of old things. Old wines. Aged cheese. Ruins of castles. Compared to the United States, this country is a wise, old sage. During my tenure here, I hope to soak up some of its wisdom.

The first weekend I was here in January, I went to visit some of those old places with Marie and Nico, as a sort of initiation into France. It was almost like they were subconsciously saying, "Ok, so, we as a people have been here for awhile. There is a lot to learn. You can't just eat a few crepes and say you've had the 'French experience'. You are not the first to visit, and you won't be the last. So don't get too cocky about your 'awesome France adventure' until you soak up some history." Or maybe, it was just something to see on a cold Sunday. =) But either way, see it, we did.

The first place we went was Montfort l'Amaury, which is a super old town, with the first settlers sometime between the 9th and 10th century (according to wikipedia.org). Below is a picture of the graveyard there, which we visited. Is was surrounded by these huge, stone archways.

The graves in France are a bit different than in the US. Oftentimes, on top of the grave are stone plaques with sayings and prayers from family members. I saw one stone with approximately 9 different plaques on it. Most only have a few, or none.

The most uniquely decorated grave we found, is below. It is a tribute to a solider who died in World War II. The inscription reads "Remember that he died on June 9, 1940 in order for you to remain French." Marie told me this is very odd for a French grave, as there are not often memorials with this strong of a message on them. I thought the mini-tank was extremely interesting.

This is the roof of the walkway that we were in. I just thought it was very cool-looking. The wood is so intricately constructed.  Just think about how long that must have taken people to make!

This is my favorite picture from the graveyard, as I really like the perspective. I am sure there is some clever  metaphor I could think up, about and how life is a path and how the sand muffling the sound of my footsteps meant something profound. But I don't know what. It just looked neat.

Next installment: Port-Royal des Champs.

-MMP

Adventure 1: Cooking like the French

So, in my short time in France (just 2.43 weeks) I have made an effort to do as the French do, and actually cook myself some meals, instead of eating Ramen or swinging by the closest Mighty Taco. I've taken notes from my French friends and tried to make meal time an event -a special time for me to reflect on my day and enjoy the bountiful feast in front of me. If I were actually French, or maybe just more acclimated, I would have been able to create a sense of ceremony around my meals. However, whilst I am American, I ate while reading advertisements for PizzaTime and ChornoPizza, my local pizzerias. More on those later...

Just above is the first meal I cooked for myself, on Sunday, the 29th of January. Please note the popular French wine, a 2009 Médoc in a tiny, "try it on for size" bottle. They don't actually call the bottles by that name here, I just made that up. Médoc hails from the Bordeaux region, and to translate the label literally it, "...presents a beautiful garnet dress with a nose of aromas of red fruit. In mouth, it is a round wine of fine tannins and supple". To a lesser aficionado, it tasted like a nice, dry, red wine. Above, as you can see, I had a simple meal of chicken and zucciini, which isn't very French and was also technically Halal chicken, because that's what Marie and I saw first at Carrefour. I also had an apple for dessert (no seriously, like, raw fruits are dessert here, not snacks) and the obligatory bread and cheese. I also had some nice salted butter, but after showing off my meal to a savvy French cook, she politely pointed out that only the Brits eat butter with their bread and cheese. So there.

My next attempt was at atmosphere. See above the candle and delightful purple flowers. I am not sure what kind of flowers they are, but they were pretty, until I forgot to water them. Tonight, I am attempting to nurse them back to health. I'll let you know how that goes...but I digress, or, rather I don't. Because part of a the great atmosphere of a French meal is letting the conversation travel down little winding paths, dart around corners of ideas and finally settle softly on a bed of contemplation, while sipping an after-dinner tea. Oh, and please note the carefully placed mail on the table. Thank you.

Also please note, the salad of JUST lettuce and a little oil and balsamic (no giant Cobb's or crazy carrot shavings out here, although I did sneak in, like, 3 olives) and another very nice wine, a 2010 Roches-Linières Muscadet, a tradition of the Val de Loire and also an apparent favorite of my friend Marie's husband, Nicolas' Dad, which is why Marie recommended it to me. I know the grammar/punctuation is off in that sentence and I consider Nicolas to be my friend too, but if I introduced him before Marie I fear she would be a bit put-off, since she is the one that coerced me to write this blog in the first place. So yes, noodles and a bit of cheery, cherry tomatoes and some Moroccan sausage which I over-cooked, but so what -that's what we Americans do, no?

The last picture is a bit of a meager attempt, but it was tonight's fare. I had a salad, this time with tomatoes in it and a rice, cheese, egg dish with some basil for good measure. I also added just a touch of light cream, to Frenchify it. The glass holds Perrier and so was very refreshing, just like their commercials are.

And that concludes my first foray into French cooking. It doesn't look like much, but considering I came from eating microwaved bean burgers smushed on top of lettuce, with obligatory cheese and salsa at least 3 nights a week, I'd say it's quite the step in a new direction.

A bientot,

MMP



I'm in France for Six Months!

I'm in France for six months and I'm starting a blog to chronologize all my adventures, pictures and notes. Hope you enjoy it!

This is a picture of me on Saturday, January 28th during my first French grocery shopping experience. It was at a store called Carrefour, in Saint Quentin-en-Yvelines, which is kind of like a SuperWalmart. All the grocery stores I've seen have been in malls, instead of stand-alone buildings.