A couple of weeks ago, I hopped on a Ryanair budget flight and headed for Paris. As much as I had been enjoying Italian food and culture, I was excited to get some variety. Before this Parisian respite, I had been developing some food issues in Italy. Previously, I thought I could eat pasta everyday and not grow tired of stuffing my stomach with semolina spaghetti (probably an excessive alliteration but you get the point). In practice, Italy is a constant carb overload. Sure, Italy loves its meat, vegetables, and seafood, but Italians always make sure to surround their animal and plant products with bread, rice, pasta, polenta, and just about every other carbohydrate imaginable. After a month of constant pasta and pizza, I was ready for some dietary variety. My other gripe related to the lack of Asian food here. With the exception of a couple of mediocre Japanese places and one decent Chinese restaurant, Padova is devoid of good Asian options. I was sure that Paris would provide me with multitudinous ethnic choices.
So, I came into the weekend with three food-related goals- satisfy my Asian food cravings, sample some of the famous Parisian cuisine, and, to prevent the onset of scurvy, eat some fruits and vegetables.
As soon as I arrived, my gracious host for the weekend Nate picked me up at the bus station. Within twenty minutes, we were already at a bar, and I was already starting to love Paris. By 4 AM, we were ready to eat after hours of imbibing, catching up, and meeting some interesting characters. According to Nate, Paris is surprisingly devoid of late-night food options (socialism definitely has some downsides), but we stumbled upon a 24-hour café. So what was my first Parisian meal? A croquette madame with French ham and cheese? Something smeared with Foie Gras? Instead of these logical choices, I opted for a giant hamburger surrounded by a heaping pile of fries. That massive plate of food did not achieve to any of my food objectives, but it might have been the most delicious late-night meal I’ve ever had (then again, I’ve thought the same thing about crispy spicy chicken sandwich at Wendy’s before). I demolished the massive plate of fries and huge burger, slathered with healthy scoops of French mayo, which, like Italian mayo, is infinitely tastier than American mayo because of the higher quality eggs. So much for eating healthy in Paris.
The next day, Nate and I felt an explosive combination of beer, meat, and French mayonnaise bubbling in our stomachs. We needed a restorative meal, so Nate suggested his favorite falafel place, which was in the Marais, a Jewish neighborhood in Paris. Eager to make Falafel Quest an international endeavor, I readily consented. The falafel sandwich was one on of the most delicious I’ve had (I seem to be saying that a lot. Maybe there’s a reason Paris is famous for its food). The concoction came topped with creamy tahini and a sweet and spicy asian-style red chili sauce. Sitting on the curb and devouring my message falafel, I was suddenly recharged.
We spent the day doing the famous church route (Notre Dame and Sacre Coeur). Of course, we then had to go get Thai food, because what goes together like Pad Thai and Christianity? (Confused? Me too.) The thai food was so-so, but I loved it anyway because I needed some Asian food in my life.
After a night involving a less refined form of wine tasting by the banks of the Seine (read: no spitting the wine out), we set forth or another day of sightseeing. This time, we did a more art-oriented route, passing by the Louvre and touring the Musee d’Orsay. Late in the afternoon, Nate told me that he wanted me to sample the most French meal of all, so he took me to a little bakery and purchased each of us an entire baguette, a bottle of wine, and a block of camembert. We proceeded to polish off the entire thing, and proceeded on a goofy walk around the Eiffel Tower. That meal left a brick in my stomach that set up shop and did not move for days. But it was well worth it because the best parts about French cuisine are definitely the simple aspects. Like Italy, France has amazing ingredients- delicious ham, cheese, bread, and wine. The best way to sample these foods is in their simplest form. This experience certainly contradicted with my previous image of snooty, 4-star French restaurants.
After a nap and a night boat ride on the Seine River (side note: this is one of the best tourist things you can do in Paris. Its 12 Euro for amazing views of the Eiffel Tower, Notre Dame, and other famous Paris sights), we were ready to eat again. Nate introduced me to Paris’ finest street food- the crepe. Due to my love of Nutella, I was tempted to get a sweet crepe, but upon Nate’s urging, I ordered an egg, ham, and cheese crepe. I knew that Nate’s advice had been correct when I saw the crepe maker forming a crust of crispy cheese on the edges of my crepe. My Parisian pancake was essentially an amazing French breakfast sandwich. It’s also the cheapest way to get a filling dinner in Paris.
That night was Nuit Blanche, an all night yearly arts festival in Paris. We were up until 6 am drinking wine by the banks of the Seine and participating in impromptu dance parties on the street with strange French guys. Naturally, we needed a refueling at 4 am. We decided to get our second crepe in seven hours, and this time I eschewed the savory for the sweet. My Nutella-Banana crepe was perfectly satisfying, although I would still recommend going the savory route.
I may or not have achieved my weekend food goals for Paris, but I certainly had a spectacular time. If you go to Paris, you don’t need to eat in a fancy restaurant. Just eat the street food (preferably at 4 am).
