Il n’est pas très grand
by jemma margaret
Of late, I have decided to be a bit more adventurous at the grocery store.
Before you start to worry, I haven’t tried “la cervelle” or “les animelles.” But for more on that…
My adventure is of the tamer variety. Like buying 200 grams of les petit epeautre, without knowing what was small and going into my dinner. After a somewhat insane search for a particular yogurt last week, this week I made do with the current grocery store’s offerings. As usual, I was looking for full fat plain yogurt in the largest container available (or in a very nifty jar if that was an option). When such a thing did not appear to exist, I tried something new.
Even if it came in a somewhat beat up package. Actually, the decomposability was another selling point.
I had heard that Petit Suisse was a real treat, but what convinced me was the advertised 40% milkfat. I am under the probably dangerous delusion that animal fat is very very good for me and I must consume it on a regular basis–case in point, that night’s meal was duck confit.
And look at that remarkable portion control. It’s not called “small” for nothing. The Swiss part, however, is a bit of a misnomer since it’s from Normandy.
I am also following dentist recommendations to replenish my calcium after a meal. Probably dribbling maple syrup on top was not part of the original intention, but it’s much much better that way.
Another small thing.