Carrefour, canard et beaucoup du lait!

I know it's been awhile, but I promise I haven't forgotten about this blog!  It's difficult for me to get pictures uploaded (the camera I'm borrowing refused to let me operate it for awhile, but luckily it's all fixed now for next time!)

Meanwhile... I thought I might talk about random cultural differences here.  I'm talking very random!  This post won't really be as organized as my usual ones (HA!), but it's my blog and so I can do as I please. :)

Yesterday, I hung out with my "host" mom, Amélie for pretty much all day.  We went to pick her daughter, Salomé, up from a birthday party.  I got to go with Amélie into the host's apartment, where the party was taking place.  It was so strange... because it was exactly like birthday parties for 7-year-old girls in America!  The girls were running around in princess costumes, there were paper plates covered in the grease of leftover pizza on the dining room table, and everywhere you turned a balloon (or three) flung themselves into your face.  Reminds me of my childhood!

On the way back, we drove past the City Hall (on the right), where dozens of cars were driving and honking as loud and as often as possible.  Now, if I hadn't already experienced this bizarre situation with Mathieu a few weeks ago, I would have thought that there was some sort of riot going on.  The first time I thought that the cars were getting angry at pedestrians for crossing the street (something that could totally happen here).  But no.  These cars were honking like mad because they were part of a bridal party!  That is a tradition in France: when you drive to get married in City Hall (the only place that can legally marry you in France), everyone beeps and beeps nonstop... all the way there.  Certainly better than a riot (although, I must admit, I would kind of like to see one of those one day... from the safety of a car or building, of course).

Before we went home for dinner (it was about 5:45pm), we had to stop at the store for a few items.  As we went in, Amélie warned me that the big supermarket, Carrefour, is absolutely insane on a Saturday.  Now, I've been in crazy grocery stores before.  Carrefour is a bit like Costco here: they sell the same things, but "bulk" in France is like "normal" in America.  Lol.  Anyway, it was absolutely a mad house.  If I ever go to New York City, I imagine that those streets would be a little less crowded than the candy aisle of Carrefour on a Saturday evening.  Wow.  We spent half the time there (1.5 hours, to be exact) just trying to maneuver our shopping cart around people.  I didn't mind, though.  It was an adventure (plus, I didn't have to push the cart).  I don't normally like crowds, but it was just fascinating to see people buying tons and tons of food.  People literally had their entire shopping carts overflowing with food.  I asked Amélie why, and she said that a lot of people here have to all their shopping during the weekend because stores close at 7pm or so, and many families don't have time during the weekday to shop.  She said that it made it easier to buy everything because then you don't have to keep returning. 

She then picked up 8 cartons of milk (un-refridgerated) to put in her cart.  Like Spain, unopened milk is perfectly sanitary to keep in your pantry for weeks.  When I arrived here, I had a tour of the apartment, and when we got to the laundry room, I saw not just tons of toilet paper stored, but probably at least 20-25 cartons of milk just hanging out, not in the fridge at all.  Milk is very delicious here in France, and so I think we should adopt the same method of storing and consuming milk in America.  Who wants to buy milk all the time, anyway?  Come on, America!

Then, once we had arrived home at dinner (the City Hall was mostly empty by the time we drove past it again, so I suppose the wedding guests had dispersed onto their night of mayhem?), it was time to eat canned duck that is cooked in its own fat.  Yes, you read that right.  Now read this: IT WAS DELICIOUS.

I believe it's called "Canard Confit" or something like that (correct me if I'm wrong).  This was not the first time I ate this meal.  In July I ate some delicious duck in a small village outside of Limoges, and have been addicted ever since.  Ducks are cute in real life, sure, but they're even cuter when they're on my plate and ready to be eaten!   They taste like the ambrosia of the poultry world... chicken is just subpar when compared with their prettier cousins.  Yum!!!  I have also come to appreciate veal, especially since the cows are much older than "American veal" (which are still babies, if I'm correct).  Here, they are just young cows, maybe a few years old, that have spent their lives grazing grass by rivers and ponds (we won't think of the water pollution, but it's probably less than in America).

All right, that's plenty for now.  There are so many other interesting things to talk about, and so once I have a more stable camera condition (don't worry, that will be soon!) I will be posting lots of pics.  I plan on spending tomorrow while the kids are at school walking around and taking pictures (when I'm not doing laundry, of course).  À bientôt!!