To any regular readers out there, I apologize for the extended silence. It has been a long travel season for me, and energy to write has been lacking. Inspiration, however, has not. With that, let me tell you about 3 noteworthy meals I ate in France.
1. A Surprising Salad
Upon my arrival in Paris, I dropped my bags and went on the hunt for the perfect cafe. Arguably, every cafe in Paris has something to offer, and I can’t put my finger on what led me to my choice, but it was a good one. Maybe it was the oh-so-charming French waiter who asked if I was Spanish. A lovely accusation, if you ask me. I ordered a nice light salad, the components of which I forgot as soon as the menu was out of my hands. So when it arrived and had chevre toasts, I was tickled. And as I got hints of sweetness in my first bites, I momentarily pondered the source. The entire composition of the salad was just what I’d been craving after heavy (but tasty) food in Eastern Europe. About halfway through the salad, I remembered that I had ordered a goat cheese and walnut salad with honey vinaigrette. So my surprise and wonder at the chevre and honey was sorely misplaced. For now, I’m blaming jet lag.
2. Tasty Tartare
In Reims, a small town in the Champagne region of France, I had another not-so-bright moment while perusing the menu at a 
sidewalk cafe in the town square on a sunny Sunday afternoon. Having been in Europe for 9 days, I really can’t blame jet lag this time. There was a tartare section of the menu, which intrigued me. Aside from tuna tartare, I could not for the life of me figure out what all these dishes were. I knew the term “tartare” was familiar, but what exactly would be delivered if I ordered the house tartare with garlic and sea salt? Hmm. I ordered it anyway. Boy did I feel like an idiot when a plate with a giant pile of raw beef was placed before me. Steak tartare, of course! And I call myself a foodie! Lots of fresh garlic and absolutely divine bovine! The funny thing is that although I was embarrassed about my idiocy, no one ever would have known…yet here it is. And it’s no more humiliating now than when it was only in my own head.
3. Very French, even for the French
Hopping on a train to a town in the French countryside I knew nothing about was a leap of faith, but choosing a restaurant in that town was a true adventure! Since I’ve come clean about 2 other food-related faux pas, I may as well do the same here: I chose to eat in a restaurant because I liked their sign. I thought it was quaint. Not the best logic, I know. Particularly because the sign was pretty worn and weather-beaten. It was symbolic of a throw-back to earlier times, as was the restaurant within. But I can’t go back and change my choice. What I can do is attempt to convey just how French this restaurant is. The decor, the waiter, and of course, the food. French, French and French. I had been reading “Julie and Julia” so I was ready for some classic French food! I started with a cabbage salad with chicken gizzards. 
Oops. Not oops because the menu was in French and I didn’t understand what I had ordered. Oops because I thought it would have one or two gizzards. No problem, right? Wrong. This salad had TONS of gizzards on it. WHO DOES THAT?! Ick. I choked down about 10 before realizing that I wouldn’t be able to keep my gag reflex in check much longer. I did my very best to respect the chef.
And then it was onto the main course: duck. With some feathers still intact. Ick again. In a heavy, strange sauce. Ick some more. In good news, there was a lovely little artichoke quiche side dish! A saving grace! Truly, this wasn’t a terrible meal; I appreciated it for what it was, but I wouldn’t repeat it anytime soon. It was certainly memorable though!