Manger

Yea you knew that one was coming. This Reutershan trait, unlike the architect traits, runs deep and does not skip generations. I am debating getting a pair of jeans a size larger while all the 30-50% sales (also inherited the inability to ignore something that’s not full price) are still going on in preparation of the impending doom. Its been said that I eat like a man who weighs 250lbs but through a jackpot in the genetic lottery with my prize being a high metabolism, I don’t really put on weight. However, even good genetics are no match for the French diet eaten in an American way.

-Breakfast
Nothing exciting here, pretty simple. Every morning we wake up to a full baguette on the table with strawberry jam, a pot of tea, and orange juice. I have eaten more bread in the past week than I average in six months. I don’t think Atkins ever really got off the ground in France. Bread for breakfast and with dinner. Always.

Lunch
Intooooooo itttttttt. We’ve found a really good sandwich shop where its only 2.50 for a good size piece of quiche. I got a kebab the other day, which was good and kept me fuller than the quiche usually does, but it was more expensive and in the Morocan section of town, which is further away and a bit shady.

I think I have found love and its name is gateau breton. Two out of the past three days, lunch has been followed with a trip to the pastry shop. I don’t know quite what a gateau breton is, I ordered it on a whim. It’s a bready pastry a little smaller than your fist, with a sugary outside. I think each one has about two full sticks of butter in it. Good thing I get the fat-free, low cal kind made with Splenda.
I believe it was Julia Child, who is on par with the likes of JFK and Ghandi in important quotes, that said, “a life without butter is a life not worth living.” Preach it sister.
Daily trips to the pastry shop is a dangerous habit to get into. But we are not talking about hitting up Cinnabun in the mall or Panera on the Pike. France is the major leagues of baked goods baby. They’re playing chess while everyone is playing checkers and ive reached the conclusion that if I can’t be good, might as well be really bad.

Dinner
Never really know what to expect here. Has ranged from pork with gratin potatoes, to omelets, to hot dogs. No really, we had hot dogs tonight. No, not the French equivalent of hot dogs. Straight up hot dogs.
I think the only constant is that Monique tries to include something very French one degree or another at each dinner. So far we’ve had French cheese, awesome pate, and something I can only describe as a dinner twinkie. She said it was a specialty of Niece or maybe Lyon and from what I could tell it was some sort of bread soaked in a heavy cream based sauce, baked with cheese on top. It was so rich I started to feel full after two bites. So, naturally, I had two helpings. Oink.