Thinking about things

When we were at Carolyn’s birthday party in April, our friend Anthea commented that it seemed like we had had “arrived” at our station in life – that is to say, we have things sorted out and know what we like to do and where we like to go and so on. It was an interesting comment made by an observant person – because it was something that she saw before we even saw it in ourselves.

This trip has given me time to muse on her comment and I have to say I feel like I agree with her. You know what? It feels good, too. I hope everyone I know has the opportunity to feel this way at some point in their life, too.

We headed out this morning to go to the city gallery here and look at the permanent collection of art (as it doesn’t seem that there is a show on at this time). We were a little disappointed to find the Palais de Europe closed (in the mystical French way of just being locked up – no sign, etc), despite the fact that it was supposed to be open.

This wasn’t the exact disaster that it sounds, though. The area is in the more “gourmet” area of town. On the corner is the best baker (with a stunning building), where we stopped in and bought some bread, a couple of croissants, and a slice of tart au pêche and a slice of tart tatin for our dessert at supper. Strolling along and admiring the displays in the chocolate shops, the magnificent platters of candied fruits (something we don’t really have or do in North America), flower shops and epiceries, we bemoaned the lack of such establishments at home. I think it really speaks volumes about the huge difference between the way that North Americans and Europeans look at food. In North America, I feel the food – its preparation and consumption – is seen as a chore, not as a pleasure and the art that it really is. Here, there is ALWAYS time for food. Outside of Paris, there are very few people who grab a sandwich and go back to their desk for lunch.

Sharon Burke, our local connoisseur of foie gras, would be interested to try the newest fad that we have seen here, which is foie gras mi-cuit au chocolat, or semi cooked foie gras with chocolate. Sounds circumspect to me, but its in almost every epicerie that we have been to. I’m sorry Sharon, but I can’t figure out a way to get some home to you safely.

So after day of morning of salivating over fine foods and wines, we went home and had a fine lunch, followed by a huge hike in the afternoon across practically the whole width of the village, on the boulevard de Garavan.

The morning started out with clear sunshine, but changed to haze by the mid-afternoon. The high today was 23C.