My first few days in France have been full of all sorts of new experiences, but what amazed me right from the beginning is the food. Everything I've had here has been several times better than its equivalent in the States. The French take such pride in their food, and with good reason. At the market on Place Jeanne d'Arc, I saw a vendor selling roasted ducks. As they cooked on the rotisserie, the fat dripped into a pan holding a small mountain of potatoes. The customers at the market talk with the vendors, asking "How was this prepared?" "How was this food raised?" and all sorts of questions that most Americans rarely think to or are able to ask their food suppliers. I love it.
Last night, I had grapes for the first time since my arrival. Unlike American grapes, which I find rather bland and pale, these grapes had flavor. They were deep, rich, incredibly sweet, with a thicker skin that broke satisfactorily between my teeth. I stopped what I was doing so that I could focus completely on these wonderful delicious spheres of pure grape-ness. Lovely.