Au Revoir France

As I sit here in JFK airport on a nine hour layover, I can't help but suck up time by browsing through the summer's pictures and thinking about all that I've experienced. Though I am happy to be on US soil again and see everyone I've missed, I can't help but think about those luxuries that I won't be able to experience here. The main component here I am referencing is the culture as a whole. Once I get home I know I will return to the work of waking up before the sun, teaching all day, then coming home to continue to work on lesson planning or grading while watching Oprah. I know as I drive on the interstate I will remember how I did as everyone else in Lyon, walking everywhere or taking the metro or train for longer journeys. A walk through the city at ten in the morning showed a city with local business owners were just setting up. There's so many things to love about this place. I love the lazy way of life, I love not owning a car, I love that walking into someone's cafe or shop is like walking into their home, which means you greet them before anything else. Above all, there is one special aspect I will miss the most and never ever forget when I think about my time in France: the FOOD! Being in the gastronomic capital of the world offered a new and exciting adventure each time we ate somewhere. I had a few unnerving experiences (which normally was a result of closing my eyes and putting my finger on a menu item), but the majority of my eating escapades ended in success and a state of stuffed bliss each time. When it comes to food, the French know what they're doing. Eating at a bouchon for lunch takes about two hours- because you are visiting among friends and actually enjoying and savoring every bite. For my last entry, I'd like to compile a list of favorites (and some surprises that I could have done without) to say goodbye to France. Bon appetite!

Favorite menu most commonly ordered by me: beouf (beef or steak)covered with a sauce (either wine or cheese based) served with gratin dauphinoise (an amazing creamy cheese au gratin potato dish)

Scary dishes: Capaccio de bouef (this is a thin slice of raw beef); Quenelle (ground up creamed fish poached with egg in a loaf with fishy sauce- this was my first meal in France, and I ate at least half of it unaware of what I was eating); foie gras (liver). The last scary dish I do not know the name of was a first course of raw duck I accidentally ordered on our one year anniversary.

Luxury splurge dish: scallops with white asparagus in a lemon butter sauce, snails in a garlic butter marinade (you pry the little guys out with a special fork and clamp!)

Delicious desserts: creme brulee (of course), chocolat fondant, lemon tarte, and meringue just to name a few favorites.

I hope you've enjoyed reading this blog as much as I've enjoyed writing it. Hopefully you got a little taste of France as well. Au revoir!

Bonita Barcelona

Finding a high speed train with an electrical outlet is allowing me to write this blog on the train ride back from Barcelona, which takes up an entire day of traveling. The train ride is a lengthy one, moving up the coast of Spain along the Mediterranean, through the region of Provence in southern France, up the country to Lyon. Though it’s more hours on a train I see every weekend, the ride is more than worth it for the treasures of Barcelona. We got really lucky on this trip, as Roy found a great deal on a website for this swanky four star hotel that upon check-in presents you with a ticket for a free glass of champagne. This was also an exciting trip for me since we were meeting up with Uzma (my old college roommate for those of you who have not been introduced) who had just returned from risking her life in Pamplona at the Running of the Bulls. We arrived an hour late around 9:00 pm Friday night. This was fine, though, as this is when life is typically just getting started in Spanish culture. It would be a pretty safe assumption to say that majority of the country hadn’t even eaten dinner yet. Adapting to the Spanish culture was not a challenge for me as laziness often comes naturally to me; I did not object when the entire city shut down in the middle of the day for a siesta that would last into the late afternoon/early evening. We went out for traditional for our first meal in Spain and ordered heaping skillets of paella. This dish isn’t altogether foreign to someone from Louisiana as it is made up by various seafood and rice. Ours had shrimp, mussels, and other sea life that I wasn’t completely sure about. Since Barcelona is on the east coast seafood was a part of many of our meals. With our paella we enjoyed a refreshing pitcher of sangria with fruit in it. The next morning we walked around a good bit of Barcelona, enjoying the curious architecture it is known for because of Gaudi’s artistic designs. We first visited the majestically obnoxious church that he designed before his death called the Segrada Familia. It had multiple tall towers that looked like fingers reaching into the sky, and massive Biblical figures and scenes carved into the front of the church. The main drawback to this church is that it is completely unfinished and was still being worked on as we stood there admiring it. It may have been worth it to pay the money to go inside, but I wasn’t interested in paying 11 Euro to get in and see scaffolding. It is cool to know, though, that Gaudi’s work is still being carried out even after he’s gone. Not having enough of his inspiring designs, we walked a good ways to his Park Guelle, stopping along the way for fresh cherries and half a watermelon (which was sliced up compliments of Uzma’s U-Mass student I.D. for lack of utensils). The park was just as eccentric as his other works, complete with the longest mosaic park bench in Europe that encircled an open terrace of the park. After a long morning of walking, we were ready for our lunch and siesta. We found an amazing hole in the wall restaurant that turned out to be, embarrassingly enough, my favorite meal in Spain, El Restaurante Chino- CHINESE FOOD! I’m not sure how it happened, but four hungry people had soup, entrees, and coffee for a total of 26 Euro! From the cab fare to the Chinese food, one of Spain’s most endearing qualities was how cheap it was compared to France.
After quite a long siesta everyone met up again to go out. We walked along Las Ramblas- the Bourbon Street of Barcelona. The street is overflowing with tourists, bars, restaurants, costumed crazy people poorly resembling statues, and vendors taking advantage of any opportunity to make some change. The latter proved to be the only real annoyance of Barcelona. There are people everywhere trying to nab tourist by forcing cheap items on them such as battery lit up glasses, flowers, or beer (which was actually a facade for cheap hash they were selling in a secret location). Obviously we had no interest in the urgings of these vendors, and got quite annoyed when we couldn’t go five minutes eating tapas in the outdoor restaurants without having flowers shoved in our face.
The next days of our visit were taken up with more art, visiting the Picasso museum and then the Salvador Dali museum in Figures the next day. Though I may not be as art-aware as other members of my family such as David or Mary Louise, I feel even a novice like myself could appreciate the artists of Spain. Dali especially- since it is so modern and out there, making you feel like you’ve entered another realm of reality where shapes take on an eerie form of something they were in a previous life. It’s funny how different people’s minds can work.
The end of our stay Roy and I ventured out to the coast of Spain to enjoy the lovely view of the blue Mediterranean. Excited about finally getting a beach with sand instead of stones, I was a little disappointed in the excursion. After a full day and a siesta, we didn’t get to the beach until around 8pm (which is okay, since the sun doesn’t go down until around 10pm). We figured we were smart and would get there after all the crowds left- wrong! The beach was extremely over-crowded, and we had to walk a little to find a space big enough for two towels. Aside from that, the same pushy street vendors from Las Ramblas also make their presence known every three minutes on the beach. Deciding that the water was better than the land, I ventured out to the water which was surprisingly not as shockingly cold as the Mediterranean bordering France in Nice. This was exciting, up until the point where I’d feel something mysterious swim by me only to be more alarmed that it was trash. Our beach trip ended earlier than expected with mojitos at a beach-side hut.
Barcelona was the perfect place to spend our long weekend. It’s a city of beauty, ingenuity, and unique but exciting adventures. Just be cautious if traveling there; though we had no trouble, I’ve heard countless theft and mugging stories people have experienced. Luckily, we had no problems and left happy and content, and interested in seeing the jubilation that would be taking place in Lyon when we arrived back in France on Bastille Day.

Maison de Canuts

Last week we decided to explore the sights on the other large hill in Lyon called Croix Rousse. This area is known for being the epicenter of France’s silk industry. The remarkable thing about silk coming from France is often still hand-made as they’ve been doing for centuries. We went to the main silk house found in the travel books since it was the one that gives tours. Our guide was a sweet animated woman that gave the tour in both French and English. Sometimes I felt lost, however, after listening to her explain something to the French group for about five minutes then turn to us and give us a few sentences of information. She did get major points, though, for telling the French group to stop yapping while she was trying to give us our English part of the tour. For the tour we were taken to a large room with tall ceilings that housed two huge wooden plank machines that took up the entire room. There were different wooden levers and string throughout the machine. At the top of it there was a holed pattern of paper being fed into the machine much like the ancient computer printer we had circa 1995. The tour guide demonstrated how the two different machines worked, following the pattern that was being fed through as the silk worker would string different threads whilst moving their foot up and down on a lower lever after each layer. She explained that an average silk pattern had around thirteen different colors that the worker had to memorize the order of as they strung the silk through. She then told us about a recreated silk they made for the palace of Versailles that had over a hundred colors of thread. Obviously, this is not how all the silk in France is produced. They do also make use of machines for simpler and cheaper silks (like the ones we purchased afterwards). The tour continued in another room where the enthralling process of the larva stages of the silk worm were explained to us. All in all, we were extremely pleased with the way we chose our afternoon in Lyon and returned to our apartment with quite a unique souvenir. Not to mention, the best lunch that I think I’ve had in Lyon so far! (It was steak covered in a white cheese sauce with au gratin potatoes and a lemon tarte). Whether it’s silk or food, the French sure know how to enjoy the finer things in life.

Good Times with Old Friends:Belgium

Though it began with a violent stomach virus, the weekend turned out to take a turn and ended up being a great weekend once the probiotic and Imodium kicked in. Because of this unfortunate turn of circumstances, we missed any chances of exploring Luxembourg on Friday, as bathrooms here are not as accessible as they are in the States, and the ones that are around require a fee to use them. We arrived late Thursday night in Luxembourg City to meet an old friendly face. Philippe has been a friend since he first came to ULL from Belgium when I was in high school. He and my brother quickly became friends, and we soon had Philippe celebrating every other Christmas or Easter with us as he could not always make it home. After spending so many years in schooling in Louisiana, we sadly waved him goodbye as he flew back home to go to work in Belgium. After years of parties at my brother's or going out in Lafayette, it was a welcome experience to go out again with Philippe, Belgian-style! After recuperating all of Friday at Phillipe's apartment while he was at work (all the while with a very caring husband who took care of me every second, giving up a day of his vacation as well), we were soon ready to see some new sights. As soon as Philippe got off of work, we packed up the apartment he stays in during the week, and crossed the tiny country of Luxembourg and headed to his parents' house in Liege, Belgium. The small country of Luxembourg is unique because of all the countries in the world, this Rhode-Island sized country has the highest wages against the extremely low taxes they pay on domestic goods. Good luck trying to spot anything but an Audi or BMW on the streets of Luxembourg.
Arriving at Philippe's parents' house was a welcome experience because for the first time on our stay here, we were a part of a family. Though his parents spoke only French and we spoke only English, there was still a warm feeling between us, especially as they worried over my war-torn digestive system. We were also welcomed with a chorus of barking from their four North African long-haired greyhounds, one of which is the French National Champion. We spent that afternoon sitting in their backyard with drinks (Hoegarden for Roy, water for me) and taking in the delectable smell of the barbecue Philippe's dad had on the grill. We had a full dinner of bbq beef, potatoes with garlic butter, green beans, and asparagus. Though the food was of course familiar, seasonings used in some of the dishes were deliciously unique and like nothing I had tasted before. It must have been comfort food because that evening my stomach virus had passed.
The next morning we woke up early to catch a train to Bruges (not before having a quick breakfast of French bread and home-made strawberry jelly). The train to Bruges was about an hour and a half long, as Bruges in on the western side of Belgium and Liege is on the eastern side. Bruges is not a huge city, but a frequently visited one. This is probably because of its beauty and quaint atmosphere. It is similar to Amsterdam in the way that it is built within a series of canals running through it. Bruges is a city all its own though because of the distinct architecture of the houses and buildings lining these canals. The buildings do not go out, but up, and the tops of these buildings are designed with two sides stepping up and gradually meeting at the top. Since Bruges is located in the Flanders side of Belgium, the natives speak Flemish which is pretty close to Dutch. We spent most of the day in Bruges, taking a boat tour, walking around the downtown, visiting a cathedral, and stopping in as many Belgian chocolate stores as possible. It was a place so beautiful and different that you could walk around all day and never get tired of it.
Tired, we climbed back on the train and began planning our evening. After being told by Philippe of a restaurant in Liege that serves French food in five (small) courses, Roy had decided what we were doing with our night. After some more Belgian beer and olives in the backyard, we went out to start our long evening. The restaurant started us off with a sparkling glass of champagne, followed by our first course that came with a new glass of white wine. The first course was some sort of beef tar tare (cured, raw ground meat) topped with Parmesan cheese. Though I'm not a fan of raw meat, I've accidentally ordered it about four times now and this is the best one I've had. The next course was a little more adventurous- foie gras. I knew very well what this was, saw it on many French menus, and decided I had to be open enough to try it. Foie gras literally translates to "fat liver". I did not like this dish. Our next course was hands-down the best. It was a genius combination of scallops with lemon butter sauce and white asparagus. For the first time, I experienced the sensation of having a wine that paired so well with the food that it tasted though it was an integral part of it. (Each course comes out with a new glass of wine. Five courses= a very happy patron at the end of the meal). Our next meal was the main course, served with a glass of red wine. I had grilled chicken with veggies and mashed potatoes with gravy. As simple as this all sounds, this was no ordinary gravy- it was made from the famous truffle mushroom. For some reason, we don't really have a sense of the phenomena this fungi is known for in Europe. Truffle mushrooms are extremely rare and very hard to find. If one does find one, they can sell for as much as $1000 per kilogram! Needless to say, I sopped up every bit of that gravy. I know that there were five courses, and I know I got dessert, but for some reason...I honestly can't remember what that last course was.
Next, though probably a bad idea, Philippe wanted us to try Belgium's national liquor- Pecket. He likened it to Vodka, though it tasted a bit stronger than that. We went to an establishment that specialized in Pecket drinks, and continued to over-indulge ourselves. The night ended in Philippe's kitchen where I got my first taste of absinthe.
The next morning we slept a little later, awaking to the smell of fresh Belgian waffles, one of the best smells to ever reach my nose. As we did all our meals, we ate our waffles outside in the back surrounded by flowers, a lilly pad tank, and four champion grey hounds making their presence known in hopes of getting their own taste of the Belgian treat. After this we went with Philippe and his father to the huge market in downtown Liege. This market stretched on for more than a mile and was made up of more than just food. You really could get anything there. Toys, clothes, accessories, candy, and live animals such as rabbits, ducks, hens and chickens, and any other live animal one could buy and make into food the old fashion way. After a walk though the market, Philippe's dad wanted to bring us to the traditional Sunday morning drink scene. The best part about this was seeing Roy's face when they ordered him a tall dark English beer.

After a full morning, we unwillingly boarded the train at midday, hugging Philippe bye. The train ride back was a long one, but gave us a chance to sleep away the adventures of the stomach and soul that we experienced that weekend.

Next weekend: long weekend trip to Barcelona, returning on Bastille Day!

The City of Lights: Paris

This past weekend, we went to Paris. It had all the glitz and glamor shown in movies and TV, but was chaotic and bursting by the seams with tourists like ourselves. Every monumental sight had no less than a few hundred people there at any given moment. We were prepared for this, and therefore did not have high expectations for Paris. Even though there were just as many people and tourism as we expected, we were still pleasantly surprised how much we enjoyed the city. Our first glimpse at the massive crowds was the first night at the Notre' Dame Cathedral. This crowd included a rowdy group of mourners holding a memorial for Michael Jackson who had died the day before. This was the happiest bunch of mourners I had ever seen, as they were singing all his songs and chanting "We love you Michael!" over and over again, donning a large American flag that had a big picture of Michael Jackson on it. This made me wonder- does someone own something of this nature already? Or did they quickly put it together the morning of especially for that night? The next morning we woke up, tried the disgusting instant coffee, then started our full day. We began at the famous Louvre museum, where we were again met by a huge group of tourists. The largest group was of course swarming around the Mona Lisa which was held behind ropes and a glass case. It was the type of chaos you see in New York when a celebrity walks off a movie set or something. The museum itself is huge, and impossible to go through and read every caption in a single day. After spending most of the morning there, we walked around then got lunch. In the afternoon we walked around more until we landed at the Arc de Triomph. On the way there we took the busiest street in Paris, the Champs-Elysees, that is lined with many luxury shops such as Cartier and Louis Vuitton. Going into the Louis Vuitton store was also an intense experience. It is stocked full of employees watching every single shopper, including two people at each entrance and exit to make sure no item goes unpaid for. All the bags are on display around large desks that are armed with attendants who actually get the purse for you. Roy had no idea exactly how much the label ran for, and while I knew, I was still shocked to actually see the prices in person. There was a small LV key chain that actually ran for 200 Euro! (281 US dollars). I don't know what the key chain does but for $281 it better make my car fly or turn it into a Ferrari or something! We continued on our way down the street to the Arc de Triomphe. It's so cool to see something right before you that you've only seen in pictures or media. Everything is so much bigger than you expected (except for the Mona Lisa). The coolest thing about the arc was seeing my last name on it. Right at the top on one of the main columns in big letters reads Wattignies. From research I learned that this is not actually attributed to a person, but to the Battle of Wattignies (a town called Wattignies in northern France near Belgium). We then went on a long climb up the 283 steps to the top. It offered a beautiful view of the entire city of Paris, with the Eiffel Tower in close sights. This was our next destination. The Eiffel Tower was a short walk from the Arc. There was, of course, more people here than anywhere. We ran into Roy's classmates and professor there, where were waiting to go to the top. We stayed there for about an hour and a half just hanging out on the green space near the tower. Once 10pm rolled around, it still wasn't dark but the tower lit up anyway. By 10:20 it was fully dark and the Eiffel Tower shown like a golden oil derrick in the sky. At 11pm we were finally leaving to find a full French dinner when we got to see the Eiffel Tower sparkling in the sky. After dark, the tower sparkles at the top of the hour for five minutes, making it seem like it's covered with beautiful sparkling diamonds. It's a very impressive sight. Our search for food was successful as we found a great little restaurant still serving food. Roy had a starter of snails in garlic butter sauce, which actually turned out to be quite delicious. They give you two utensils that you've never seen before: one to hold down the spiral shell, another short two prong fork like utensil used for wrestling the delicious little mound of flavor out of the shell. For someone who is not quite as picky about food as I used to be, I was shocked at how much I liked these snails. After dinner, fully stuffed and tired, we walked back to catch the metro and got to see the Eiffel Tower sparkle one last time at 1AM. After tracking down a metro entrance, we were dismayed to find out that the metro was closed already- on a Saturday night in Paris! It was at the point where I suggested hailing a cab, and we were quickly back at our hotel. The next morning was relaxing, just going out for lunch and some souvenirs, and ending at the train station. It was the perfect short weekend trip, and I guess I now see what all the buzz is about the famous Ville de Lumiere.

Morning in the Market

This morning, I woke up extra late after staying up to watch (as much as I could) of the National Championship baseball game. Since it started at 6pm at home, that meant it began at 1am here. Roy so far has pulled three sleepless nights in a row. As late as I woke up, however, I felt I still needed to be productive, and ventured out past my little nook of Vieux Lyon (not after having a cappuccino and crepe at Cafe' de la Ficelle though). Two rivers pass through Lyon, the Rhone and the Soane. On most mornings the markets set up along the quays (streets) along the rivers. It's just one of the many things I love about France. I love the lazy way of life, I love not owning a car, I love that walking into someone's cafe or shop is like walking into someone's home, which means you greet them first before anything else. Of course, it goes without saying, I love that the main focus in French culture is solely around food. I've read that the French spend more of their annual income on food than anything else. One thing that makes French cuisine so tasty is because the French normally stick to cooking food that is currently in season, and right now, it's raspberry season!
So continuing my walk across the bridge, I came upon a bustling market. As it was already noon, many vendors were beginning to pick up. There was quite a bit still out, though. I smiled as I walked through, taking in all the beautiful sights. Produce of bright orange carrots, red yellow and green peppers, onions, potatoes, garlic, broccoli, cauliflower, and fresh snap beans all lined rows and rows of tables. Then came more tables full of different types of fruits, but mostly taken up by crimson cherries, red-orange strawberries, and even deeper-red raspberries. The sight was too tempting, and 2 Euro for a crate full of raspberries was just too good to pass up. As I walked along, I began to wonder what the decomposing odor was that was so strong, and realized I was passing the cheese stand. I just appreciated the fromage and all its exotic varieties, but happily continued on. The butcher shops made me feel somewhat inadequate as I realized that I knew nothing about picking out all the different cuts of meats.
Finally, I purchased a load of potatoes and a loaf of bread and made my way back up to our apartment. Inspired by all the French cuisine and my market experience, I decided to get a little fancy with lunch by incorporating my fresh raspberries. I made mashed potatoes with my recent purchase and cooked pork chops in beef bouillon in another pan. In a separate pan, I made my first fruit sauce, creating a syrup from boiled sugar and water then mashing my raspberries into it. Immediately it turned into a perfect glaze with a rich, sweet aroma. I spread it over the pork chops, creating the tastiest, most satisfying meal I've made yet in Lyon. Tomorrow we leave for Paris, where more culinary delights await!

Lyonnais Mornings

As I've attempted to describe before, the area at the bottom of our hill is called Vieux Lyon (Old Lyon) and is a surviving Renaissance style village area. Butchers still have a statue of a cow on the top of their shop, for those not permitted to an education, and knew they could buy bouef (beef) within. Shop keepers keep their doors open, and locals lazily sip on their demitasse of espresso and people watch ( a behavior I've taken a liking to). This is laissez-faire attitude of Vieux Lyon.
This is the backdrop in which I choose to surround myself every morning.
My favorite cafe of choice would be Le Ficelle. This is a corner shop right next to the metro station that (like every cafe or bouchon) has more tables outside on the sidewalk than inside of the cafe itself. I like this cafe' because they have the best cappuccino that I have yet discovered in Lyon. It comes in a large glass as opposed to a demitasse shot. The foam is also delicious, as it is mixed with coco powder. La Ficelle also has delicious crepes with generous portions of nutella! Though we don't speak the same language, the owner has gotten to know me as the American girl who comes in during the late hours of the morning to enjoy cappuccinos and reading. She is very hospitable, and patient with me as I struggle over the most common of French phrases. This morning I spent a nice hour there reading and people-watching inside, since it was a little too cool and breezy for the outside air.
The other cafe' I enjoy solely because of its location. The cappuccino is alright, but small. It is located at the west side of the St. Jean Cathedral plaza. The plaza is an open area with a fountain (described earlier) in the middle. It is surrounded by old apartments and a primary school (which looks nothing like a school, but is consistently ringing with the yelling voices of over-active French children), cafes, and the large Cathedral at the head. This is the cafe' for people watching. As the St. Jean plaza is the hub of passer-byers in Vieux Lyon, one can sit for hours and enjoy a parade of tourists, shoppers, small business owners going to work, teens getting out for lunch, lovers enjoying the freedom of accepted p.d.a. behavior, and school children all adorned in similar colored hats escorted by teachers on what seems like daily field trips. There is always an order to the commotion, and it's often more difficult to concentrate on a book here, as there is always some distraction to divert my eyes.
This is my typical Lyonnais morning. It usually concludes with a reluctance to get up and continue the day, and then a stop by the local market to pick up a baget for lunch (which usually runs less than a Euro!). After that, it's a card swipe through the metro, a one minute ride up the funicular cable car, and a two minute walk down to the apartment to cook lunch and wait for my student roommates to return. This lazy way of life has me fearing the future, when I will return to a grueling schedule of waking up at 5:30 am, driving twenty minutes on a crowded interstate, and spending the rest of the day hard at work. But for now, I must embrace the present, and every new adventure it brings.

P.S.- Novel of current read in the picture: A Year in Provence by Peter Mayle. If this blog doesn't give an accurate enough description of the French lifestyle, this book surely will. It's a fun, relaxing read for a lazy afternoon.