All Things Food

My God, French food is amazing. I was headed toward Arc de Triomph, walking down the Champs-Elysees and I got so distracted by all the little kiosks that were set up along the street for Christmas.

It just so happens that I hadn't eaten lunch yet and being that crepes are a French food, and one of my personal favorites, I couldn't resist stopping at one of the kiosks for some.

I had a crepe salée. It was ham and cheese, a classic. So delicious. I sat down to eat it on a bench in the Tuileries Park.

After I finished that, I kept walking down the Champs-Elysees, continuing toward Arc de Triomph when something else caught my eye. It was red wine, but heated! Yes, hot red wine! It was a sweeter wine and so yummy.

At the same place that I got the wine, there were these cookie-like things (they actually look like mini burgers when they don't have bites taken out of them). I think they were called macaroons (but they are different than the Jew macaroon with coconut). The one I had was pistacchio flavored. Tasted like nothing I had ever had before with a rough outside and very sweet, tacky center. Also, please note my 3 euro gloves that I had to buy on the first day I was in Paris so that my hands wouldn't freeze.

Tonight I went out to dinner with my friend Sophie who is back at home in Paris for Christmas with her family. She took me to a restaurant called Les Fondus de la Raclette. I had a Raclette. The meal was served on a cutting board and it was red meat, cheese, ham, and potatoes. Then they gave us different dips and mini frying pans to melt the cheese and cook the meat right there on the table. It was very rich, and it's probably a good thing I don't live in Paris because I would want to eat it every night.

Okay well, it's 1am and time for me to go to bed. I leave Paris tomorrow. Back to real life in Barcelona for a few days, the grind of writing papers, and paying my rent. That's when you know a place is truly feels like home, when it feels nice to come back to after a vacation but it also means real life, no fantasies.

I have loved Paris. So much. Yet, I'm happy to say that Barcelona is my "real" life.

Happy Birthday Gram

Pont Alexandre III

Thought of you when I took this.

From this point you can see both the Eiffel Tower and Arc de Triomph at the same time.

An American in Paris

Paris, my camera loves you.


...And so do I

Last night I was poised and motivated (okay maybe not so much the latter) to finish my paper on La Casa de Bernarda Alba. But I am in Paris. Could I have managed to give myself any more of a distraction? I don't think so. Nonetheless, around 11pm my friend Phil (a friend I met through another friend) texted me to see if I wanted to get a drink. Of course I did. So we headed toward the city center to this very cozy, hole-in-wall bar. Strictly locals. We were the only ones speaking English. Anyway, we talked about what it's like being a poor American student in Europe, him telling me how he bought his refrigerator for his Paris apartment (and the dolly that he used to transport it) off Craig's List and then how had to take it on the metro to get it home. I told him about how I never eat out and basically live on vegetables and the occasional slice of jamón ibérico. You know you're a poor student when your dinner consists of bananas, yogurt, and beer....and you're okay with that. We talked about what it's like for him to study saxophone in Paris, the difficulty and the fun of learning new languages, studying abroad in general, rude Europeans, the Parisian girl whose ass was fighting with my own for space (it was basically WWIII, The Battle of the Buttocks)...

Today I went to Versailles with my roommate here in the hostel. Her name is Lana and she is studying in Frankfurt, Germany but is originally from Ukraine. We had such a fun time hanging out together and were very compatible travel partners. Versailles was so majestic with the massive palace looming over us, the gold trim challenging the ominous cloudy sky. It was as though the palace was saying, "Even if you decide to rain on me, I will still shine." We should all have such self-esteem.

I will put up more pictures later. Right now I am going to work on my paper. For real. No distractions. But geez, Paris, you really could not knock my focus any more than you do...
Oh how I want to be on the Pont Alexandre III right now, looking out over the Siene and at the Eiffel Tower. Tomorrow...

Merry Christmas

Greetings from Paris!

I am exhausted right now from only having two hours of sleep last night. Nonetheless, I had a wonderful Christmas Eve with some friends in Barcelona. We ate great food and enjoyed each other's company. It was beautiful; I love when you create your own fun.

I am in the lobby of the Vintage hostel, taking advantage of the free WIFI they offer. Paris is about 40 degrees, with a crisp breeze. I visited Place de Vosgues and walked along the Rue de Bastille today. Place de Vosgues was like the Madeline illustrations come to life, I was so excited to see that Paris is really covered with vines (sometimes).

Okay this isn't a real update. I just wanted to write something from Paris on Christmas.

Before I peace out though, here's a little anecdote so you can feel aquainted with the French...

I went into a convenience store to buy some water. In French (of course) the man told me that the price was 1 euro. I then responded in English, "I don't speak French." He laughed and said in English, "Well I don't speak English... But you should speak French." That's when I offered, "castellano?" Smiling as though he understood everything he gushed out, "ohhh you're Spanish!" Instead of trying to explain myself to this shopkeeper, trying to explain the fact that I am not Spanish but an American living in Catalunya who speaks Spanish, I settled for a simple, "sí." That seemed to make him happy because we talked for a brief moment about the rivalry between Madrid and Barcelona, he communicating with his broken English and me responding to him in Spanish. I told him that I didn't like Madrid as much as Barcelona, that I felt more connected to Barcelona. This guy must have known something about the situation between the two provinces and the bilingualism that characterizes Barcelona because he understood me when I started talking to him in Catalán. If anyone has pride in their language, it's the French.

Anywho, that short conversation ended in Catalán from me, with a simple "molt bé, adéu," and
"au revoir" from him.

Merry Christmas to my friends and family around the world. Know that someone in Paris is thinking about you.

Food, Christmas Eve, Paris

Oh my gosh. I bought the best baguette from Consum. When I grabbed it from the basket it was still warm. I ran home and immediately cut it up to make the most amazing peanut butter-jelly-banana sandwich of my life. I love trying new foods, but I never tire of the kiddie classic PBJ. Natural peanut butter, warm baguette, fig jam and perfectly ripe banana is truly what heaven tastes like.

I had to go to the grocery store to stock up on some food since nothing will be open tomorrow in Paris. I felt so Spanish buying jamón ibérico (I never buy ham, but since it's Christmas I went for the top notch national emblem of Spain), three different types of cheese, wine, and a baguette. Tonight I'm going to a Christmas Eve gathering with friends. I'll bring the wine, cube the cheese, and slice up some Fuet. Fuet is this catalán sausage thing. I don't know how to describe it really, but it's so good.

Anywho, my friends live near Sagrada Familia and I think I want to walk there, but not if it's still raining. It's been raining on and off all day, and my laundry is dominating my room, hanging on whatever I could find that would hold it so it could get semi-dry (the doors of the armarios in my room are currently doing the majority of the work). I'll probably end up packing some damp clothes in my suitcase for Paris.

Okay, time to stop distracting myself from my life.

See you in Paris, and Merry Christmas (Eve).

In the Library on a Rainy Day

I am in the library at the facultad writing my essay on Lorca's La casa de Bernarda Alba. I wish it would just write itself, as I have no motivation to do it. At least I am sitting in front of a big window and I can look outside and see the Coca-Cola building that overlooks Plaça Universitat on the Gran Via de les Corts Catalanes. There aren't a lot of people in here in the library, or at the faculty, because mostly everyone has cleared out for the holidays. I hear the rain gently falling outside, and it would be completely peaceful if it wasn't for the ambulances that parade down the Gran Via every few hours. Oh, the woes of living in a metropolis.

Nonetheless, I like just hanging around Barcelona when I have nothing to do (except that I have a lot to do in terms of essays and reading). It's been around 37 degrees and rainy here. The chill snaps you in the ass when you're walking, you're hands are constantly wet from holding your damn umbrella, and my apartment is so chilly that I have to pile on layers of clothes and stand by the stove every now and then to reignite some of my own body heat. All the same, I enjoy it. I'll be in France in a few days where I'll experience the type of cold that I'm supposed to be "used to" from living in Illinois. Well let me tell you something, being cold is never something that you ever really get "used to," but it's something that you get better at handling, I suppose. Anyway, back to the essay... That is, if I can focus.

Right now I just want to see Paris under the snow.

Cuquina

Yesterday I spent 20 minutes of my life cleaning dog shit from the bottom of my shoe. Thank you, Cuquina, for giving me such a wonderful Christmas present. We all give gifts within our own capacities and it's always nice to know when someone is thinking of you.

(My camera makes it look like Cuquina is a ghost dog. See how her tail is disappearing?)

Cuquina is a stylin' pooch. As you can see she wears sweaters to keep her warm in the winter. I'd say she is better dressed than some people. All of her sweaters look like something that you could buy for yourself or your small child from Zara. For those of you that do not know, Zara is a Spanish brand clothing store. Perhaps Cuquina could be their muse for an entirely new canine line. I think the line would be quite popular here in Spain where people are so dog-crazy. Marlene told me that she spent 50 euros on one of Cuquina's outfits. "Wow," I thought. I know the sweater is quite unique with it's embroidered image of Snoopy and Woodstock, but I don't know if I'd spend 50 euros on it. Then again, Marlene doesn't have children, so she has to spoil someone I suppose.

I have a ton of things going on this break. Lots of traveling and my friend Grace is visiting me. Thus, I am aiming to finish all my homework (which consists of writing two 8 page essays and reading 2 novels) before I leave for Paris. Naturally, I am hard at work on those things right now, as I'm updating my blog. I think I can finish them though. I'm not so worried about reading the novels, as I can attack those on the planes, but I MUST write those essays. I think I'm going to bring my laptop with me to Paris, so maybe I'll update this blog when I'm there too.

Okay, it's time to read the final act in Lorca's La Casa de Bernarda Alba. I probably will come back to my computer and make another blog update, as I can only focus so much at a time. Blogging is always a fun excuse to stop whatever you're doing, pausing your life so that you can take a step back and write about it. Whether you're admiring the outdoor Christmas markets all over Barcelona or the beautiful lights that adorn the city, or whether you're scorning the dog shit that has found a home on the bottom of your Birkenstock clogs, it's all worth noting. It's all part of understanding. And sometimes, you just need to stop to understand.