After a morning walk in 1898, an anonymous flaneur of the 19th century was rather astounded by the number of “housemaids who were hurrying homewards with long sticks of bread, a yard or two in length, carried under their arms”. The French began to eat baguettes long before this, and have yet to tire of them. I, on the other hand, have only been consistently eating these long flutes of bread for the past 68 days. Though deliciously intoxicating to all senses, sometimes one just needs a break. Sometimes one needs to escape the wonder that is French cuisine.
Yes, croque-monsieurs are fantastic, and croque-madames even better, but after a while, one just needs some Pad Thai, a quesadilla, or a Grey Dog’s number seven. There really is only so much rich sauce, crispy bread, and melted cheese one can take. I know this sounds ludicrous, but you, my friend, have not been in France for the past two months.
If there is one thing I have learned about the French, it is that though they are widely engrossed by American culture, they have more pride for their own than anything I have ever seen. They are ecstatic to come in contact with an American, but have no problem in making a quick departure back to their mother’s kitchens, back to the comfort of home. Interestingly, they seem to have a fear of accepting foreign cultures for commercial use. Everything breathes French; the essence of all products reeks of cheese.
Living in New York, one has access to absolutely everything. China town. Little Italy. Indian Row. It is all just steps away. A willingness to embrace the other is instilled in us from the beginning—it is completely necessary. Thus, as one who welcomes, and even prefers, variations in cuisine, Paris is a difficult city to conquer. Of the 40,000 restaurants in Paris, roughly 20 percent are French cafes—this does not include upscale French restaurants and bistros. We are talking sidewalk cafes. It is nearly impossible to find anything the least bit exotic, and at the same time the least bit decent. Sushi, something that has become so trendy in the States, is actually laughable in this part of the globe.
It really is ironic; it really is hypocritical. Please, restaurateurs of Paris, do not broadcast your obsession with American culture, yet reject our culinary habits! It is not appreciated by the 200 American students at NYU Paris.
So it looks like I have two options: starve, or accept the fact that French cuisine has caused me to gain ten pounds in the last ten weeks and go buy another croissant. Looks like it is option two for me—but can we make it a pain au chocolat aux amandes? I mean, why not just go all out?
(a great scene from Twin Peaks- ironically involving the French Baguette)
