I’m totally envious of Lauren’s Paris time, but I probably shouldn’t be since my past week has looked roughly like this:
Boire et manger literally translates into English as “to drink and to eat,” which made it seem appropriate for my first post from Paris, where I’ve been very happy doing plenty of both. But in Paris, boire et manger can also mean you win some, you lose some. The second meaning also seemed fitting. Notable Paris wins include making friends with the neighborhood baker (a big moment for me), figuring out the basic geography of the city, and having had some real luck so far with the research. Overall, Paris is a wonderful place, and I’m lucky to be making some new friends here (they aren’t all in food production, but that’s ok too).
Notable losses include making the first person I met in Paris, the customs agent, hate me (he asked if I spoke French. I replied “oui, et vous?” He was not amused), taking 90 minutes to get to the archive my first day, when it’s about 40 minutes from my apartment, and burning myself pretty seriously the first time I lit the stove. Those moments aside, though, it’s been working out pretty well here. The only thing that hasn’t really come together for me yet is cooking on the regular. Continue reading
After days of scorchers I have finally remembered how to survive high temperatures: turn all fans on. Leave all windows open. Keep water (or better yet, manzanilla) cooling in fridge. Wear practically nothing. Take a bracing shower when all else fails.
Together, Alex and I also remembered why turning on the oven is a bad idea at the height of summer, rediscovered our hatred of actually cooking anything in June, July, and August, and learned that eating a post-dinner Klondike bar in the park across from our apartment is the epitome of that special sultry decadence you can only experience in summer months.