confit de canard
When I was little, I lived across from l’Alliance Française and took french classes, picturing myself as some kindof madeline. We used to drive up to Montreal and I’d be able to fake some frenchiness. I’ve been a francophile for. ever.
Paris was always the ‘destination’ for my mum and I. She had lived there, and wanted to show me the most incredible city in the world. I never got to do that with her – but this trip felt like exactly what she would have loved. I lost my beautiful mum on Remembrance day, and the train pulling into Paris from the airport was lined in bright red poppies. It felt like it was exactly where she would have wanted me to be.
And then there’s the food.
My plan was, for my weekend in Paris, to just walk every waking moment and eat everything in sight. I achieved this plan. I also stayed with a gorgeous girl through AirBNB on the Rue de Belleville who gave me directions, took me out to dinner (I only spoke French! To French people!), and ate cheese and baguette with me (even explaining the devestatingly french man eating his baguette and brie dipped in his morning coffee) She insisted that she lend me a beret and take a photo of me posing with my espresso in a cafe. The whole experience was magic.
These were some of the meals that, through butter content and taste, will remain in my heart forever.