Food for thought

In light of Thanksgiving this week—largely a celebration of eating—I thought I'd dedicate a quick post to food. The boys stayed at school for lunch for the first time yesterday instead of coming home from noon to 1:30 (a huge, brave step forward for them!!) and I want to describe their experience given how different it was from school lunch in the US.

First, some background: There's a discernibly different attitude to food here in France. Food seems simultaneously less important and yet far more important than it is at home in the US. On the one hand, food doesn't accompany every activity here. There is zero expectation that a meeting, mid-morning get-together, or other engagement would involve someone bringing snacks. Eating between meals is uncommon, even a little frowned upon (except for a small mid-afternoon snack for children that universally appears to happen at 4 p.m., not a minute earlier). But the midday and evening meals themselves are tantamount to sacred; much of the country comes to a halt from noon to 2 p.m. and again after 7 p.m. because everyone is seated around a table, somewhere, enjoying a proper meal and the company of friends or family. I've had a few people mention that the French call hunger the best seasoning. We Americans probably could learn something from that...to appreciate good meals by not mindlessly grazing on bits and pieces through the day!

Some miscellaneous food observations:

• I've not yet encountered someone cramming food into his or her mouth while walking along the street or shopping or even driving. If you're eating, then you're sitting down and appreciating it. Even if you're on the road, you pull off somewhere (spots are plentiful) to eat. On that latter point, it seems to be de rigueur for many folks to keep a tiny folding table and chairs, or at least a picnic blanket and proper eating gear, in their car to set up for a meal on the side of the road when the need arises.
• At flea and antique markets, the stall owners set up personal little tables and chairs, bistro style, for their lunches at midday. And they're definitely not downing a quick PB&J with a Coke! A cloth is spread out, proper flatware and glasses and china plates are produced from the trunk of the car, and a full meal is laid out or procured or dropped off, often hot and utterly delicious looking.  :) 
• It's not an unfounded or romanticized notion that half the people you see walking down the street will have a baguette tucked under an arm or poking out of a bag. The one French establishment that never closes (not over meal times, not even on Sundays) is the corner boulangerie, which cranks out hot baguettes and other lovely items from early in the morning into the evening. One doesn't buy gobs of bread and stockpile, either. Baguettes come in various sizes, so you buy your loaf for the day and know you'll pick up a fresh one tomorrow. 

As of yesterday, I've concluded that school lunches here are a great reflection of this food culture. And although the lunchroom wouldn't typically seem like the place where important lessons are learned at school, I think the boys stand to gain quite a bit from the experience.

Here's the rundown of the comparisons as reported by the boys last evening, as Jesse and I eagerly grilled them:

• At home, school lunch is always a rushed affair. Last year, Josiah frequently would have food left over in his lunch bag (I typically packed his lunches), and he explained he wanted to eat it but ran out of time in the scant 15 minutes given. Here, they have in excess of an hour to linger over the meal. Lesson: Food is to be appreciated and savored.
• At home, the kids are herded through a lunch line and then jostle for seats in a noisy lunchroom. Here, everyone is assigned a seat at the table and is individually served by staff. Lesson: Decorum at meals is standard, and even little kids can be treated respectfully.
• At home, the students are constantly told to quiet down and just focus on eating as fast as they can in the allotted minutes. Here, Josiah and William said the children could talk all they wanted. With plenty of time to spare and a culture that embraces conversation around the table, chatting is permitted and practiced even among the littlest munchkins! Lesson: A meal is as much about your companions as the food itself.
• At home, the lunch gear in the cafeteria is almost all disposable. Here, both boys used real glasses and proper tableware, and reportedly all the children were skilled in cutting their own food, etc.. Apparently the French don't share the irrational American notion that children are destined to stab their neighbor with a knife or slice themselves on shards of broken drinking glasses. Lesson: Expect mature behavior at the table, you'll get mature behavior at the table.
• At home, the food consists primarily of pre-packaged, individually wrapped items, usually with questionable health value. (That's why I ordinarily packed Josiah's lunches.) Here the meals consist of "real" food and are cooked from scratch on premises. And get this: Every day, school lunch is a four course meal. The boys reported yesterday that they had a starter that consisted of lentils, corn, and something (they didn't know the name), followed by a main meal involving mushrooms, chicken, green beans, and gravy, followed by a cheese course with bread, and wrapped up with a little pot of yogurt or creme-type thing for dessert. Lesson: Children who live on a diet of mac 'n cheese, ketchup, and nuggets are SO missing out! You in fact can feed lentils, mushrooms, and distinctive cheeses to preschoolers and elementary kids.
• At home, children throw out whatever they don't want to eat. Josiah used to say that his friends would toss half their school lunches (not that I can blame them, I suppose, seeing that even my food-loving child described many of the options as nearly inedible on the occasional days I failed to pack a lunch). Here, everyone is expect to finish what he or she is given, for good or ill. Josiah had to gag down his yogurt/creme (whatever it was) since he's NOT a fan, but he managed it...because, well, he had to. I mean, he was still shuddering upon recounting the misery at dinnertime, but the kid was alive.  :)  For the record, William said he scraped every last drop of it; in contrast to his brother, he adores yogurts! Lesson: The best way to simultaneously ensure a diverse palate and reduce junk/snack consumption an hour or two later is to require that proper, varied meals are eaten...and eaten in full. 
• Note that dessert seems to have been an unsweetened yogurt-type thing. In monitoring the school menus, I've seen a sugary dessert listed at most once per week. Even then, it's perhaps a small chocolate pot de crème, never cookies or a cupcake. Lesson: Sugar does not have to mark the conclusion of every meal...and in fact kids fare a lot better in the afternoon when not crashing off an insulin spike!

There's in fact even more I could say on the topic of food, seeing as I spend half my life over here in the kitchen, but I'll wrap it up now. This post is a lot longer than I intended...and I'm getting hungry!  :)

A get-away

Jesse and I were delighted last week to sneak off for a few days together. His ever-amazing and brave parents—here visiting still—stayed with the boys while we were gone. We took a quick, direct hop-flight to northern Africa: Fes Morocco. The price was what we'd pay back home for a budget roundtrip between Philadelphia and Boston...amazing! We arrived on Thursday afternoon and left in the wee hours of Sunday morning, but despite the short timeframe we had an unbelievably rewarding, adventurous, relaxing, overwhelming time (yes, all those things rolled into one; if you've been to a similar place, I'm sure you understand).

We stayed in the heart of the ancient medina, deep in the maze of over 9000 miniscule alleys, roads, and often dead-end passages that all teem with the commerce and living of several hundred thousand people (not to mention a shocking number of donkeys and cats too!). It's like nowhere I've ever visited—full of such different sights, such vastly different ways of life, such varied and often assaulting smells, so many people in your face and business, all non-stop and jostling and swirling around from dawn until long after dark. Muslim calls to prayer sang out at their appointed hours through the day starting around 5 a.m., the shopkeepers with their haggling and stories were equal parts entertaining and overwhelming, and the jagged mixture of ancient slammed up against modern felt bizarre and exotic and yet also somehow fitting. It was fantastic.

With all that said, if you want to hear stories, send me an email and I'll give you a call. Beyond dropping in a big bunch of photos below, it's hard to write more!

*  *  *

This is one of the major tanneries in Fes, where huge quantities of leather is treated. I can't imagine a life working in these huge, stinking vats...especially in the intense heat of summer...

Jesse looks rather demure with his bundle of mint leaves, given to visitors as a counter to the incredibly foul smell of the tannery.

*  *  *

The mosaics everywhere (floors, walls) were beautiful. 

*  *  *

Friday is a very quiet day in the medina, a family/weekend day. The many shuttered stalls and echoing streets were a stark contrast to the crazy bustle the rest of the time, with people everywhere, goods and tables and piles spilling out into the street.

*  *  *

We stayed in a lovely little riad—an entire house shared between us in one bedroom and another couple of guests in a second bedroom. We paid $50 a day, and that included a super breakfast prepared by the young housemaid/cook who was at the riad several hours each day. Unbeatable! (And what were the chances that our housemates grew up in York and Hummelstown, PA??)

Here's Jesse in the central part of the house, enjoying his morning Moroccan mint tea (i.e., a bunch of fresh mint crammed in a glass with boiling water poured over).

The shower room was hammam style, a big shower head raining down from the ceiling.

The window pictured here was in our bedroom, looking down on the central "courtyard" below (I stuck my head out the opening to take the photo of Jesse).

Most rooms of the house were accessed on different levels off this very narrow, spiraling, tiled staircase. It was a little spooky and echo-y getting to the bathroom in the dark of night!

Below you can see the early morning view of misty rooftops from the riad's own roof on Friday. There was a really nice sitting area up there. The smoke you can see in the middle smelled fantastic; it came from a bakery just a few doors away.

I took a photo of the street next to "ours," since the riad was accessed from a teensy alley so dark and narrow I couldn't really get a picture. Perhaps obviously, this was taken on quiet Friday morning.

*  *  *

After a good breakfast of olives, fruit, perhaps some soft goat cheese or eggs, various flat breads, etc., we definitely didn't feel the need to splurge on a big lunch. We found that for less than a dollar total (?!), we could buy a couple of traditional round loaves of bread plus several oranges and bananas to munch on. Then we had a traditional Moroccan dinner most evenings. Well, usually traditional. We had several delicious tagines, soups, and couscous dishes, but Saturday night Jesse went for a touristy camel burger. It was yummy!

Two bananas = 1 hectogram + 2 old spark plugs. 

We bought our bread each day, piping hot, from the bakery next to the riad. It was in a dark hole of a door off the street, and the last day the man let me step down and in for a photo. It was a baker/wholesaler place, pumping out hundreds of these flat round loaves every hour; bread like this was for sale piled in towers around every turn of the medina.

We "splurged" a couple of times by popping in somewhere or other for an orange juice. It was usually about a dollar and was pressed on the spot, a mixture of several oranges and clementines. So unbelievably good.

*  *  *

The sights were beautiful. In the religious school we were in below, you can see the basic tile work on the floor, the far more intricate tile on the wall, which was topped with about 15 feet of insanely intricate plaster (?) carvings, above which was about 10 feet of astonishing wood carving! 

 

Carpets, carpets, carpets. Everywhere! Beautiful.

This was in a wood craft museum. Photos weren't allowed in the exhibit rooms, but the central atrium was fair game. I enjoyed seeing these two cleaning staff having a little chat in the middle of their dusting!

We did a fair bit of shopping (which meant an insane amount of haggling/bartering, sometimes in English and sometimes in French). Tim, you have a bag full of fresh spices from this stall en route home to Lancaster. Jim and Tillie arrive in a couple of days!

 

*  *  *

On Friday afternoon—a beautiful, sunny day in the 70s—we headed up to a hillside nearby. It was lovely to see the medina sprawled out and shining below us, as opposed to being viewed from its teeming, dark, at times even claustrophobic interior.

This photo below was taken facing the other way on the hilltop.

The tower was on the top of the hill. From a long distance we couldn't make out what the red coloration was. Flowers? Red rocks?  Ah, animal skins! There were a few men there flipping them, arranging them, piling them. It made for a surreal flock / herd on the hillside...

We (I) eventually caved and bought a winter knit hat from this guy here (not the one he'd put on Jesse's head, though). As it turns out, it was absolutely beautifully knitted of lovely wool. But...neither Jesse nor I needs a hat. If you're reading this and interested in it, let me know...seriously. It's an olive-y green and black color. 

*  *  *

It was great to be reunited with the boys on Sunday afternoon; somehow our 3.5 days away seemed so much longer and so rejuvenating. They had a great time with their grandparents (naturally!) and Jesse and I had a mini-vacation we won't soon forget. I couldn't ask for much more than that.  :)

Angers

On Sunday, we packed up a lunch before heading to church so we could go straight from there to Angers for the afternoon (it's pronounced "on-ZHAY," by the way). We had a wonderful several hours before rain started to fall, made even better when we discovered that the castle—which we hadn't necessarily planned to visit—had free entry for the day. Nice!

Friday edit:

In the interest of expedience, I originally had left the post at what's above and just inserted a slideshow of photos with some captions below it. However, that photo album / slideshow doesn't seem to be working for many folks using phones or iPads, although it seems to load normally on most laptops/desktops. Accordingly, I'm leaving the full slideshow at the very bottom of the post but am inserting a bunch of the pictures, along with some narrative, into the body of this post after all. So much for trying to keep things simple, eh?  :)

-----

When we arrived, we began by walking around some of the oldest part of the city. 

 We loved the contrast between the very short and squat door at #17 and the very tall and skinny door at #19. We wondered whether the residents bore any resemblance to their entryways. 

The cathedral was magnificent. There is a very, very long stairway from the cathedral down to a grand fountain and park area below.

Of everything we saw that afternoon, the boys probably most enjoyed getting sprayed by the fountain when a wind gust blew through.  :)

 

The interior of the cathedral comported well with its imposingly beautiful exterior. 

It has a pair of absolutely enormous rose windows facing each other (north and south transepts). The sun was in and out of clouds, but when light burst through the windows, it was incredible.

Heading on to the castle...

 

It's hard to tell, but in the picture below we were up on the ramparts (the top of the towers shown in the left-hand photo above). It was built up in levels inside the castle. We were so surprised to climb up and find not just a lovely view, but kitchen gardens and a small vineyard up there!

This delightful beard and grin brought to you compliments of a chocolate eclair purchased en route to the castle.

 

***

The waterfall

A short drive away is La Cascade de Pommiers, or the "Apples Waterfall." Jesse hunted out the location with the boys not long after our arrival in France and has brought them back a couple of times, but my first visit wasn't until this past Friday. October ended warm and sunny, so it was a perfect little outing for an hour.

Of course before getting to la cascade, one has to hunt for bugs and butterflies in clearings on the walk along the way.

Aside from a narrowish bit right alongside an electrified fence (!), the walk is unspoilt and bucolic. Then one comes to a very steep, very long set of steps set into the hillside that head down to the river and waterfall below. So beautiful.

It's a tiny, secluded spot, and the kids love throwing stones, making dams, wading in, and clambering on the rocks.

William rolled up his trousers, but they got soaked anyways. 

Josiah probably had the right idea here...

All too soon we had to head back, since Jesse's work day needed to begin. But it's a favorite place here for sure!