Really, those things are in reverse order: first, welcome to my new blog! After years of loyally reading and shamelessly admiring others’ food blogs, I’ve decided to join the fun. With absolutely no promises about what this blog will or won’t contain, my guess is that I’ll blog about anything and everything food-related, including but not limited to:
- teaching D, my SO, to like food that isn’t Subway (or “subwayeatfresh,” as she affectionately calls it)
- the good, bad and ugly of trying new restaurants
- lots and lots and lots of home cooking and baking
- the general rants on being a foodie with very few foodie friends
So start reading and don’t stop! Because the posts and laughs will keep coming as quickly as I can get a good bite to eat or put food on the table (and drag D away from her footlongs).
Now, for the pics I promised….
This one is from a delightful little chocolate shop in the Marais section of Paris. You’ll learn quickly that my total lack of self-control is mitigated only by my frequent trips to the gym. Put differently, I make up for all that running and lifting and pretty disgusting sweating by eating my way through hoards of chocolate, of all varieties. I would pretty much kill for a heath bar or skor bar; My food-illiterate friends think I’m a snob for liking toblerone, so when I splurge for the occasional bar of single-origin chocolate, it stays in my desk drawer at work. Plus, D would be horrified at the thought of wasting money that could otherwise buy…you guessed it.
On my last day in Paris, I ate at a bistro in the 5th Arr. called Le Petit Vatel. D and I both ordered this vegetable plate as our entrée. Jasmine rice sat beneath the veggies and sopped up the ample liquid from the carrots, zucchini, tomatoes and french lentils. Like many of the things we ate, this was remarkably simple, and absolutely delicious. As you can see, the whole thing is topped with some mysterious flowers. To this day, I don’t know what they are. I tried to ask the maître d, but she mumbled something in French. It was too quick to catch, and I didn’t want to be a nuisance. Boy, do I regret that. I’d ask three times if I could do it all over. must. have. me. some. of. those. flowers.
Fish market at closing time. Really there are more boxes than anything else — and this man sure looks like he wants to go home. He was just thrilled that wanted to take pictures. By thrilled I mean wildly entertained. By wildly entertained I mean ready to go home.
That’s all for now. Soon enough, I’ll make the pie for which this blog is named, and post about it. Until then, happy reading and thanks for checking out my blog!Email Print