Le gobble gobble from Paris.
Even though we're mad at it from time to time, we miss the homeland during the holidays. We are thus giving thanks for our nearby friends in the same sad boat.
The ladies (the American ones, anyway) plus families will be gathering at New York mom's gorgeous apartment for Thanksgiving. I will be making midwestern cheesy potatoes ("midwestern" because the list of ingredients includes cream of mushroom soup and corn flakes. The Midwest raised me right.) I'm also responsible for the jar of cranberry sauce.
Sharp cheddar and cranberry sauce are elusive beasts in this town. I hit two grocery stores yesterday and best I could find was a small chunk of regular cheddar that costs a bazillion euros per kilo nestled in amongst the fancy white French cheeses. Since I'm not interested in making the most expensive cheesy potatoes in history, I skipped it and will substitute French cheeses. The pilgrims would be horrified. The Midwest may disown me.
The cranberry sauce is another matter. After being met with blank stares from grocery store employees when I asked for a sauce made of cranberries, (may have overhead one employee say to another, "What the hell is she smoking?" as I walked away) I had to face facts -- if I didn't want to wander around the city all day honing my pronunciation of canneberge, there was but one option left: The Real McCoy.
The Real McCoy is an American grocery store near Des Invalides. I've avoided it up to this point because I've heard it's the most expensive grocery store in the entire world. They get big kicks out of marking that Stovetop stuffing waaaaay up.
I walked (and walked and walked) with Coco in the baby wrap. I wasn't too impressed as we entered the store; the place is the size of a walk-in closet. And that's being generous. I mean, seriously, how great could this place be -- OH MY GOD YOU HAVE POP TARTS????
The tiny American grocery store was crammed full of stuff like marshmallows, Jell-o, Triscuits and Jiffypop. American food is crap! And I wanted it all. I am not going to admit what all I bought. I would like to say I stopped at the five euro jar of cranberry sauce but I did not. There may have been some Aunt Jemima products involved. And pay no attention to those Pop-tart crumbs down the front of my shirt...
So we will celebrate Thanksgiving in Paris tomorrow. New York mom has Slingbox so we can watch the Macys Thanksgiving Day Parade. I will sob as I watch the parade but that will not stop me from shoveling camembert and brie cheesy potatoes into my mouth.
Happy Thanksgiving, everybody!