Don’t Call Me a Foodie

Don’t Call Me a Foodie

by Rasmenia Comment Closed
“You can't just eat good food. You've got to talk about it too. And you've got to talk about it to somebody who understands that kind of food.” ― Kurt Vonnegut“Watch a French housewife as she makes her way slowly along the loaded stalls… searching for the peak of ripeness and flavor… What you are seeing is a true artist at work, patiently assembling all the materials of her craft, just as the painter squeezes oil colors onto his palette ready to create a masterpiece.” ― Keith Floyd“Americans are just beginning to regard food the way the French always have. Dinner is not what you do in the evening before something else. Dinner is the evening.” ― Art Buchwald*A while ago, someone read several posts on this blog & said to me, "I really enjoyed reading through all of your food posts. I'm a big foodie, like you."Uh... what? Like me? Me? A foodie?No.I like to eat, sure. I love...
Read More
French Table Manners

French Table Manners

by Rasmenia Comment Closed
From time to time, I'll read blogs and articles that have been written by other expats living in France. Some of these people are "travel experts." Others are people who have visited Paris once or twice. Many are expats like myself.One topic that always seems to come up is French table manners. It seems that many Americans are confused about French table manners and possibly, even a bit intimidated.That's silly. There's nothing to be afraid of. It's just people eating food. And besides, they've done away with the guillotine over here.I am not a travel expert (what the hell does that mean, anyway?) and I'm not snobbish enough to have earned the joy of having an etiquette stick shoved up my ass, but I likely know more than the average tourist and my opposable thumbs have allowed me to use a knife and fork for the past few years without a major incident. There are a few things I've read...
Read More

Misanthropy at the Movies

by Rasmenia Comment Closed
At the restaurant inside the movie theater, Olivier & I sat down at the table.  He started eating.  I was struggling with the impenetrable plastic package holding my napkin & brittle plastic fork."Man... did you get a load of those fucking people that were in line in front of us?"Olivier responded by nodding his head.  His mouth was full of sandwich.  He swallowed.  "Yeah, they were pissing me off, too," he said.  Sip of soda.  Swallow.  "The wife was smashing her elbow into my ribs while she bitched about napkins to the person working behind the counter."My fork was now free.  I pulled my sandwich apart & began flicking bits of tomato off of it.  "Seriously... you'd think that her husband could have corralled their kids while she did her bitching."  Tomato.  Flick.  "I thought that they were going to start climbing my legs as if I were a mighty oak.  I love how people think that any other adult...
Read More