Le premier visiteur
by jemma margaret
The posts were neglected over this long weekend. Nevertheless, research and development were in full swing. How better to test the efficacy of this blog than to show my very important guest around Paris for a bit. Or at least the back of my head while I went to several markets.
I learned that Paris sidewalks are lousy for wheeling suitcases, and worse for holding hands. On the other hand, I also learned that despite the butcher’s warning we could make (and by make I mean pull from the package and crisp up) very very good duck confit without a cast-iron skillet. I learned a few crucial “going out” phrases that should be added to my repertoire. And I learned that sometimes convenience makes the bread next door taste much better than the award winning loaf 5 kilometers away. I learned that sucre poudre is not powdered sugar and filet de mignon might be pork. I learned where to buy fabric should I ever need any (Montmartre perimeter) and where not to buy sausages (any Italian deli…somehow I thought otherwise). I learned how to operate subway ticket vending machines, what note whistling through an empty glass coke bottle makes, and who killed the bomb squad operator in the last episode of season 3 of Foyle’s War.
Back to business for the remainder of the month. Expect future posts to be well illustrated (with pictures like the one above! please attend to the street name), as my very charming visitor has loaned me his mighty fine camera for the remainder of my stay.