So long France

My trip through France is coming to its end and after five days in Paris, two in Bordeaux, three in Toulouse, and four in Nice I can say that traveling through France can be a comfortable challenge. Many questions remain unanswered; why did we have to switch trains twice on what was supposed to be a direct trip? Why don't French boys notice cute American/Canadian girls? Why is it so cold and rainy in May? Why did that person just cut me in line?

Despite several questions and uncertainties, I also learned a few invaluable lessons in France, which I will be happy to share with you.

Lesson #1: The French are strong believers in DIY, especially in restaurants.

The two steak tartares that I got arrived at the table with a smattering of condiments, sauces and chopped seasonings. Apparently it was my job, not the chef's, to turn this mound of raw meat into something delectable. Picture it, a hefty patty of raw ground beef with an egg yolk on top counting on me to make it something other than, as my friend so eloquently put it "a raw hamburger." Imagine her dissapointment when she was also expected to season her own Bloody Mary, which raises another question, what do bartenders in France do if they expect us to make our own drinks?

Lesson #2: French supermarkets are superior to our American ones, a good meal is never more than a few packages and a bottle of wine away.

After several long dinners at brasseries, we decided that a dinner at home was in order and so we walked into the Carrefour, picked up a package of jambon, a selection of goat and sheep cheeses, fresh bread, olives and some mache. With a dessert of macarons from La Duree, this simple dinner in Paris was certainly one of my favorites.

Souvenirs/Back from Hong Kong

When most people travel they bring home souvenirs, small tokens to remind them of their trip and the things they saw, experienced or even ate. I am usually one of those people, I love these reminders, something to look at that takes you back to the time and place you got it. On this trip I didn't bring home any trinkets though, instead I brought back something much more exciting, recipes. Even before I bought my ticket to Hong Kong, I knew that if I was going I would absolutely have to take a cooking class while I was there. A country's cuisine is so deeply entwined with its culture that for me, to go to a place without learning about its food would mean missing out on the essence of its culture. How can I, as an American, comprehend why spitting bones onto the dinner table is totally acceptable in Hong Kong, but not here? And why are there so many bones in the food in the first place? In my mind, understanding the answers to questions such as these is just as important as sightseeing and touring.

So in that vein I signed up for the Chinese Wok Cookery class at the Martha Sherpa cooking school in Hong Kong. I have taken several cooking classes in my time, but this one was definitely the most intense. Eight hours, five dishes and a personal meat cleaver definitely leads to a pretty crazy day. By the time I left I reeked of grease and garlic and although it was certainly not the most appealing aroma, something about it made me proud.

Discovery/Hong Kong

I think I finally realized that I was actually flying halfway across the world when I glanced at the plane's map and we were flying across the North Pole. A 15 hour plane ride definitely gave me a lot of time to imagine what Hong Kong would be like, but the truth is all the images in my head were nothing like the reality. I could probably write the longest post ever describing every detail of my hike in the New Territories, my day in Macau and my long walks around Hong Kong. Instead, considering the whole food blog theme I have going on here, I'm just going to list the top three food experiences I have had so far (unfortunately, one of the the meals was not my own, although it's still totally worth writing about).

I know my mom would be disappointed to see any bad manners, but after one bite of Pastel de Nata in Macau (Egg Custard Puff Pastry tarts, which I don't have pictures of because I was too busy eating) all bets were off. The buttery, flakiness of the crust crumbled down my scarf and jacket, but luckily I still managed to get enough in my mouth along with the just-sweet egg custard to know that seconds would be in order.