Bits and pieces (and feeling a bit grumpy)

I think there comes a point when you are traveling (whether for a week or a month or more) that you just get grumpy with everything in the new place.For me, anyway, the moment comes once I am past the jet lag and culture shock -- after letting my guard down a bit and having had the luxury of settling in.

Well, I reached that point today.

It's my own fault, really. We are having Geraldine and Thomas and their family (and some of their friends we want to meet) over tomorrow night. Geraldine had suggested having just appetizers at her house, but we wanted to have them to our place.

But then, what to cook? After having been treated to this, well, I wanted to bring out more than chips and beer (although these friends are such kind people, I don't think they'd complain! Clearly, this is my issue).

But there is the minor fact that I have had disaster after disaster when baking (but not when cooking) since arriving in France. It might just be the universe's way of saying "Lisa -- there are 42 amazing patisseries within a 10 minute drive... why bother baking in this country?" But as I wrote to a Lethbridge friend earlier (the same friend I turned to for advice on what to cook for this little party), I foolishly continue to try baking, and so far have made: terrible, heavy, tasteless chocolate cake; flat, brittle sugar cookies (not just once... but three times); and banana bread that feels like it weighs 3 kilos! At this point, my confidence in the kitchen is not quite where it should be.

This good friend recommeded cooking something I do well, and mentioned some of the favorite things she's eaten at our house. With this advice in hand, I decided on something they can't usually get in France (and something our family loves): Mexican food.

This seemed like a good idea at first. What better than a nice limey-tomato salsa, or a lovely garlicky guacamole? But today, as I trawled the grocery store in search of frozen corn (what kind of country only has canned corn? How hard would it be for them to bring in some frozen corn?), as I tried to find something akin to cream cheese (what kind of country has 1,000 cheeses but nothing with that lovely gray Philadelphia label?), and as I helplessly read labels to see what might be cumin (I didn't have my electronic dictionary, so made my best stab and bought what I thought was cumin -- something called curcuma -- but it turns out to be tumeric), I realized this could well be a foolish undertaking. Oh, and did I mention I am going to try to make tortillas (and can only hope that it will go better here than it did in Japan)?

I guess we'll just have to see how it goes Friday night.

John has been laughing at me all day -- saying how much I must be suffering with my cheese choices here in this godforsaken land, how maybe we should go back to Japan because at least THERE, I could get Philadelphia cream cheese.

I think in terms of food, I want the best of France -- the rich cheeses and pates and sauces and desserts -- but I also want (at my convenience, of course), my favorite things from around the world: fresh Mexican food, savory sushi, aromatic Indian. That's not so much to ask, is it? (And don't worry. I am not expecting anyone to feel too sorry for me. I realize this is a fabulous problem to have...). I also think my frustration at the search for ingredients is probably linked to homesickness in a roundabout way. I clearly love everything about France. But it *is* still all foreign, and there are times it would be nice to have a bit of a break and a return to the familiar.

At any rate. I have the tortilla dough "resting" right now, and I will keep you posted on how it all goes (and anyone in France need a BIG bottle of tumeric?).

In other, less grumpy, news:

* We had Lauren, Claudia, and Penelope over yesterday afternoon so their parents could have a lunch date. After feeding the six little ones lunch, and a lot of playing, we took a big walk up to Les Chaumes, and everyone had a blast. At the end of the visit, they looked like this:

The one terrifying thought that went through my brain during the visit was that, in theory, a person *could* have six kids of these exact ages (8, 7, 6, 4, 4, and almost 2). While these certainly were six well-behaved and delightful children, it was not a pleasant thought!

* We had been waiting for more than two weeks for a shoe sale to start at a place I think of as France's Famous Footwear (higher quality shoes than Payless, but not a store that will break the bank). I was disappointed to arrive this morning to find that none of the leather, sturdy, beautifully made shoes were included in the sale. We did find a good deal on two pairs of these:

While not the kind of shoe you'd want to wear every day, they are adorable (and fast, super-fast, Livie declared).