23 janvier 2010 (Day 145)
Oh blessed Saturday. I muddled through the rain again to go to the market. I bought 2 kilos of apples this time (I won’t be going to the market next Saturday because I will be at a YSA activity in Angers). I also stopped my vendor friends to get some clementines. He was doing well, apologized for not calling me yet (we exchanged numbers last time), but told me that he was enjoying reading The Book of Mormon and would like to know more because he likes learning about other people’s religions. I should have given him the missionary’s phone numbers, but I didn’t think of that. I was just too shocked that he had started to read it and liked it! I bought a pineapple for 50 cents. They must be in season to be that inexpensive. They are smaller pineapples, but that was perfect since there is just me (and the thought of my mom who loves pineapple, thus I bought it). Kiwis are also in season because you can buy a plethora of them for 1 euro. I also bought 3 alvacados for 1 euro. I bought some bread at a boulangerie since I am on a quest to find bread like I had in southern France. So far I haven’t had any luck (although dad, you do make good artesian bread…it is close to some of the French stuff). I think I might need to buy some bio (organic) bread at the market, but then I can’t get it sliced (and my knife hates slicing things like carrots, apples, and anything hard). I went to the Marche-U to get a galette for tomorrow and I also stumbled upon my (discounted) SWEET OF THE WEEK: Black Forest cake. You see, I have a goal to try a new French deliciousness once a week. It was pretty good.
John came over and asked if I wanted to make American French toast and I said yes. You see, in Scotland instead of putting ‘sweet things’ on their French toast they put brown sauce (a malt-vinegar based condiment with spices and fruit) aka like a steak sauce. We therefore had this debate the other day about which is better (because we each found the other’s idea of French toast revolting) so we decided to try it. We went off to the store in search of eggs and brown sauce (which for a good part of the time I thought was a gravy). Alas, there is no brown sauce in France, so I cooked sweet French toast. We went to about all the kitchens (closed, full, burners broken). On the fourth try we found one, and one with hot burners. I found this out by sticking several of my fingers on the very hot burner. The pancake turner proceeded to fly out of my hand and my fingerprints proceeded to leave my fingers. It was painful and I felt dumb. John enjoyed the French toast though and is practically convinced now that I am correct. I am still supposed to try French toast Scottish style though (yuck!). After lunch we got on some random tangents (as usual) and ended up talking about Scottish dishes, actors and actresses, and who knows what else came from looking up brown sauce.
My fingers were still quite numb after (it felt too odd to type) so instead I sat down on my bed to finish writing up a bunch of letters and watch the first 2 episodes of season 6 of House. They were really good.
