Fezzik In Paris

Two Americans, three cats, and too many places named "de Gaulle"

Back to the good old états-unis a few weeks ago, and it was one heck of a strange experience. As soon as I landed sans Geep and got behind the wheel of a ford focus hatch, I felt all of Europe get sucked out of me. Was I in a coma for the last six months? Did I have this weird fantasy of living in France, but have been here the entire time? What is happening? It was too easy to get back into waiting around on traffic-jammed highways, passing blahzay strip centers, and deciding between terrible and less terrible food options. Okay, that is harsh, but I was rocked by sickness while back home due to the food. No, I did not eat any fast food! The salt content was impressive and tongue-swelling. I used to eat at these places and enjoy the food, so when did it become so sweet/salty/greasy? I’ll tell you when… It’s when I discovered that eating out was not synonymous with eating badly. France is full of sweets, bread, and fats, but they do something Americans typically do not. When they have something like a slice of pizza, they eat a salad with it. Having a heavy beef dish? They eat it with steamed veggies. Never (or almost never) do you see something high fat next to something high fat. They even serve hamburgers with french fries and SALAD. I apparently have become accustomed to this habit without realizing it. When I was out with friends back in the states, I was shocked at the portion sizes and the heavy meals. Even when I tried places I thought would be safe, like Sweet Tomatoes, the soup there made me take one or two spoonfuls and push it away. Moving back to the states will be a bigger challenge than I thought, at least on the food front. I guess we will have to start that garden we were planning before we left ASAP once we return. I will sob over the lack of fresh, tasty, veggies.

Categories: food

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