The Bread & Butter of France

They say the French eat lots of bread.  This, my friend, is an understatement to say the least.  Not only do the French eat a lot of bread, so does every other tourist in the country trying to imitate the French, experience the culture first hand, or blend in and appear French.  This is usually hard to do.  I have witnessed many who try to blend in, usually without success.

My sister went to the bakery yesterday and bought fresh bread sandwiches,  croissants, and donuts.  Usually I’m not a fan of donuts, especially not sugared ones.  However, these donuts were so fresh and delicious I couldn’t resist. Let’s be honest here; It’s hard to resist anything in France.

I even liked the ham and swiss, which normally I’m not a fan of.  Most of the baguettes people snack on are hard and I’m not particularly fond of them.  I prefer the moist croissants.

Kristina and I attend Cher John yesterday at the French Cinema.

  • It costs us 21E for two tickets
  • We contemplate buying candy, but a small package of crispy m&m’s (which they no longer carry in the states) would set us back 6E
  • The concession stand is self-service. It features bins of candy, pre-packaged candy, drinks,  ice cream, and popcorn sans butter or with Sucré. After much deliberation, we pass. Kristina has snuck in a brownie from the bakery earlier.
  • The movies come out a month or two after their debut in the U.S.
  • The seats are positioned at an odd angle and so tall I almost need a booster to see over the seats in front of me.
  • The movie plays in English with French subtitles

    • Kristina and I ball our eyes out. We leave the Cinema further deluding ourselves into believing that Love can exist in the flawless, dramatic way it does in the movies.

This morning I am given the daunting task of going to the market…alone.  I wheel out of the apartment with a little stroller that will hold my groceries.  I have  a short list, but given that everything is in French it’s not exactly, easy.

However, I find most of the items on my list rather effortlessly and because I don’t see any Italian seasoning I resort to Bouillon cubes that say d’olive with a picture of pasta and seasoning on top.  It smells rather Italian, so I toss them in the cart.

On my way home a man stops to ask me a question in French.  I know the only thing that could possibly make me resemble a French woman is the cart I’m pulling behind me.  I use the token “Je ne comprends pas” and continue on my way.  Sometimes I feel silly speaking French, but I’m getting braver.