I’m still in the French Alps. Remember I mentioned eating 5-course meals gracefully? Well, I thought raclette, being a single-course and all, would be a good breather. Mind you, it was my first time. But alas, at the end of the day, it’s just a glob of melted cheese. Poured on top of potatoes, accompanied with charcuterie, it is hearty, mountain food at its best. But I feel like I really should have skied or chopped wood beforehand to truly enjoy it. It’s a good thing we did not order a cheese fondue for the first course. After 4 days of eating 3 courses (onion tarte, boeuf bourguignon, caramel tarte) at lunch and 5 courses at dinner (veloute de cepes, escargot, filet de lotte, fromage, royal chocolat) my moderation is finally sinking in. Does this mean I’m becoming more French?
Anyway, I love a multi-course meal. It’s always been treat since I first discovered the soup, salad, entree, jello/rice pudding option at the local Chicago Greek diners of my youth. However, after 5-courses, I am usually on the brink of explosion. And what’s a proud member of the clean-plate/waste-not club to do? But here is what I have learned from experience. Although everybody loves a generous plateau of Alpine cheeses to choose from, choose either cheese or dessert. Or eat a small portion of each. Incorporate vegetables when possible, if given a choice. Stay hydrated during the day. And move around as much as possible. I’m starting to feel a bit of empathy for food critics…
The first weeks of March, all the French people I know flock to the French Alps for the obligatory February ski trip. Luckily, I am a part of the majority this week; it’s a family tradition of my new in-laws. Bonjour, French Alps! Bonjour, Mother-in-Law! We are in Meribel, a favorite ski station of Bridget Bardot. Unfortunately, I do not ski or snowboard. And I have not found a good snow sport compatible with my two left feet. Any recommendations? In the meantime, I’m trying out the snow bunny look and learning to eat 5-course meals gracefully. More on that soon…
P.S. Sorry I forgot my camera! I will let Bardot do the talking.
As much as I am continually charmed by the life in France, some things lag behind. For example, to complete most bureaucratic tasks (banking, visas, health insurance), a secretary hands me a blank piece of paper to put my request in writing. Most secretaries have a desk piled-high with said requests. Hmm.
Peeling paint and spiderwebs are often a part of the decor.
Our old washing machine has been bust for months now. I’ve been begging my husband to ditch it. However, there is only one issue; it is also our only counter space. How I long for one of those stainless steel and granite American-style kitchens with a French-doored refrigerator and a freezer larger than a shoebox!
Finally, the other night I was brushing my teeth on my way to bed. Not only to find a worm on the bathroom floor. Of all the things that could come off the street and into our humble bathroom, a measly little worm is the least of our troubles. But it doesn’t mean I want to have my bare feet in the proximity of an unannounced worm.