Yes I have returned from my August vacance, a few kilos added to my waist. No worry I drank plenty of wine to clean out my tubes as any good French man or woman would do!
Yeah I know…. august in Paris? It’s the only time I have to go so I did the best I could to try and find all the wonders that are the capital of history food and human kind!

My first impresssion of what globalization is doing to kill the individulalism of what I condsider the greatest contribution to our meeger lot (human kind);anything that is food, and especially the heart of food culture, France.

While accompanied by my Mother who hadn’t been to her homeland for thirty-seven years and trying to do my best and eat my way through anything carbohydratique, bread stuff! I disregarded my doctors
warnings and stumbled into the first temple of Pain,
Poilaine! Having no sense of direction or not having time to dwaddle on my ordinateur de pomme (mac), I hadn’t followed a guide or even written down a proper address for any respectable shop, but I solely recognized familiar names and could distinguish delicious from unworthy to mediocre! Even a regular old brasserie or local spot can’t really be called average in comparison what we have in the States!, while crawling around old haunts and
neighbohoods with Mom and spouse, we crossed the Place de Concorde to the Tour Eiffel( a good 3 hours of nagging and achey feet!)Well we stopped around 4 O’clock after passing some familiar places on the rue Nicot to an un-attractive restaurant with some hoakey Italian name, non-descript menu, exhausted, I ordered a burger with frites avec oeuf  au cheval, man that was a burger, not like McDo’s and no freedom fries either!

While crossing Boulevards with names and statues etched over the arches and bouquets of flowers for fallen heroes of the liberation of Paris 62 years ago I still felt there was a food society here no matter that less French are eating bread and are as obsessed as Americans with the less important things that once bound the family at the table, food.

Here is my homage to France, particularly to Paris, hope I can stay longer next time, peddle my velo and chew the the end of my baguette like all French do, my mother wasn’t lying, they like the croustillant end of there baguette, and why not, “Vive la vacance!