My last posting ended with a promise to tell about our adventures in France. My equation title pretty much sums it up. Thankfully, my
traveling companion, chef aux maison, and fiance loves food more than me. I say thankfully for this because without him, I would likely not have tried
socca, pigeon terrine, or a lovely tarte citron in the Parc des Buttes Chaumont (see below for one of the many marvels of
Veronique Mauclerc) all the way in the 19th arrondisement.
That's right, in the land of glorious wine and a culture that places such an importance on quality food...I would not have even come close to touching these things on my own. Granted, I would have likely enjoyed a delightful cheese, croissant and bread-filled experience, but we wound up taking many side treks simply to seek out the best. From an authentic Nicoise socca stand, to the contrasting sleekness of a Pierre Hermes Parisian bakery, it turned out to be a great way to see some different sights as well as give our palates a holiday like no other. It was so fantastic in fact, that it is truly sad to be back in America, culinarily speaking, that is.
More posts to come on France...but for now, I'll leave you with a few snapshots of the delightful bounty available daily in the outdoor market in charming Old Nice. We saw variations of these offerings everywhere in both Paris and Nice. France is truly a country where food is unquestionably worthy of respect, but not so pretentiously as you might think, it is made available in the freshest way possible to everyone nearly everywhere.
Meet Tank, the kitchen floor cleaner. He's great, at our beck and call, he runs around while we're cooking and prepping food just to make sure he can pick up accidental messes. Such a helper, altruistic at that.
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