Chapter Twenty: French Cuisine

Arriving to France on Friday night, I could think of just one single thing: food. My friend who I was meeting in Bordeaux had repeatedly told me about French food and had especially laid heavy emphasis on desserts. All I have to say after this weekend is that I have no guilt about what I ate. Eating is an important part of travel. It is part of the culture. It is a part of the people. So unlike other travels that I have been on where the highlights were of places or people, France highlighted its food for me.

So allow me to begin my food frenzy from this weekend.

On Friday night when my friend and I found our hostel, we had one direction set for ourselves: to find food. We came upon a restaurant that served a menu (three-course meal). Talking over wine and telling stories of this and that, I managed to consume a salad with goat cheese, duck, potatoes, and a delicious chocolate cake. I wish I had the words in French to tell you just exactly how delicious the meal was. French, in my opinion, is after all the language of love. And that meal was exactly that, love. I was taken in on the first night and I would have two full more days after that to experience French cuisine.

Saturday morning then involved waking up early to see Bordeaux. Michelle, my friend in France, and I had already made the plan to tour the city as quickly as possible then to jump a train to see another city before arriving to her town. So needless to say, we browsed Bordeaux while skimming through the streets, wandering through and out of churches, checking out souvenir shops, and of course grabbing something quick to eat. In the morning I was introduced to two different pastries. And due to the unusual cold that has been set into Europe these past weeks, we eventually found ourselves several times throughout the weekend finding other cafes to sit down in and to try something new.

That's how it was when we arrived to La Rochelle later that day. After touring cold windy fortress towers, we needed some warming up. And what better way to warm up than to hot chocolate and crepes? I ordered a chocolate-banana crepe not realizing how big and filling it would be. My eyes were bigger than my stomach but that did not stop me in the least from finishing my entire plate full of food. Nearly every last crumb was licked off the plate. And again, there was not guilt afterwards. There was only a warm over-flowing sense of love for the food.

However, do not misread or misunderstand me. I do still love Spanish food and everything it has to offer. In fact, even the French appreciate Spanish cuisine as well. Before I had left Spain, Michelle and I talked about bringing Spanish chorizo (a type of sausage) and morcilla (another type of sausage) to make in France. Therefore, that Saturday night instead of going to another restaurant, Michelle and I cooked at her place in Niort and served other French and Americans that were living in France a traditional Spanish lentil soup with chorizo and fried morcilla with red pepper. From the French side, we put together an excellent dish. Unfortunately, I did not have another Spaniard along to testify to it as well.

Thus, Saturday came to an end and Sunday began. Sunday, I suppose, was and was not a day of rest. We slept late knowing that I would have a sleeper train and would probably not get a lot of rest. However, Sunday was a bit of a rush as Michelle and I sped through her town to see the quick sites before we hopped yet another train to reach the city of Poitiers where my train would leave later that night. And of course due to the abnormal cold and lack of precaution on our parts (mostly mine) to not dress warm enough, we were driven into churches to rest our cold feet and yet again into cafes to warm our hands with either coffee or hot wine.

Hot wine? Yes, I tried my first hot wine mixed with some spices. Yes. That's correct.

What's that you say? Did I like it? Hmm... I did not dislike it. I'm just obviously not French. Maybe with some more practice rounds it will grow on me but at this point, I think I will pass. However, do not be afraid to try it based on my first impression. Nor either don't just pass something up based on looks or appearances. There were several things I passed up on the menu based on my definition of what food should be. I stuck with the safe route.

Take for example how I chose the salad with goat cheese instead of the salad with gizzard. If you have tried gizzard salad and liked it, you are most definitely braver than I am. Nevertheless, if you are on the same side as I am about salad choices, remember this: be bold every so often. Don't hold back and stick with the same old, same old. Try something new. Attempt a Spanish dish back at home. Or find the courage to try some French cuisine.