I could spend the rest of my life here in Paris at markets. I swear. I can’t tell you how much fun I have watching the people- the vendors, the buyers, the tourists, the Parisians, the French from the country, and the other Europeans. That is just one aspect, however because then there is what they are selling, being endless and endless fresh produce of all shapes, sizes, smells and tastes! I can hardly help but pick the fruit right off the stands and taking a bit, then again I can because I feel like a vendor would literally attack me!
Going to the markets strangely doesn’t make me hungry, because everything is so beautiful that I almost forget that it is food and instead, it is art. The vibrant colors of the local apples grown without chemicals make those in American seem like children’s toys, and the taste, oh, the taste in indescribable. When you crunch on some fresh lettuce in your salad that you bought only hours before, it bites back. You can taste the plant’s antioxidants as you digest them and you feel stronger after just eating a tomato. It sounds ridiculous, and yet it is true, and in fact, not only does it taste better but it also is more fun to work with in the kitchen! Today I made a salad with my goodies and never before has an avocado invited me to eat it. This avocado basically cut itself, popped out its seed, and scooped itself out of the flesh, while I held it and watched. Normally avocados stubbornly resist preparation, and by the time you are finished with it, it looks like green mush. Not this time, however because the farmer probably just miles away picked the ripe fruit himself for me. Or at least that it what it felt like and I felt like the avocado was enjoying being eaten more than I was, if that is even possible!
I also bought eggs to hard-boil and was dazed in amazement as it as well, one eagerly undressed itself before me, and I didn’t even have to ask. Peeling a hard-boiled egg has never been more fun and I won’t even attempt to describe its deliciously buttery taste, or its brilliantly yellow yoke.
Tonight was the first night that I was left alone in the kitchen for long because Madame and Monsieur had a party that lasted all day. As much as I enjoyed the time alone in the kitchen tonight to make both lunch and dinner, I missed hearing Madame and Monsieur’s rustlings in the background. Around eleven in the morning they left for lunch and I was a little worried that they weren’t back by after 8 PM. I know that the French love to draw meals out into days, however I couldn’t help but fret when I noticed the time. After all, they are older, even though they are quite active and getting around Paris isn’t exactly a piece of cake. Taking the metro is more of a work out than most Americans get in a day, and even I will occasionally pant up the stairs! I was so relieved when they finally walked in the door around 8:30 that I contained myself from running up to the door. I almost feel like a puppy anxious for attention when it comes to Madame and Monsieur and I get excited every night for dinner. It has already been a week but they have me hooked. The French can be so adorable!
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