25 April 2017 Vattetot-Sous-Beaumont, France

Busy and awesome day today (yesterday). Remind me to tell you about these things  tomorrow (today).

1. Seafood
2. Boulangerie (bakery)
3. Cinquecento in France
4. Our wonderful airbnb hosts and the Benedictine scandal
5. Cheese

 

That seems like enough. Update to follow sleep! Bon soir.

Seafood

Ok, I’m going to be short and sweet because it’s late today (tomorrow? day after? I don’t know anymore) and I’m getting pretty sleepy after a long travel day.

So seafood – yes, Normandy is famous for it. No shocker. Moules frites? oh yes, please! That was the dish I wanted. And it’s everywhere, but when Husband went and researched seafood in Normandy, he discovered this town, Trouville-sur-Mer, and the famous fish market. And they don’t really do moules frites. But that doesn’t matter. They do a million other things and it’s super fresh and apparently awesome. But then there’s this problem we both suffer from and it’s called “shyness”. Sometimes it might be interpreted as being “introverts” (probably true), but I think it’s mostly that neither one of us like situations where we don’t know exactly how it works or what’s going to happen, especially in a foreign language. So the day before, when we were discussing options, I said something like “we gotta do the fish market because it’s scary for us… and we need to go through that open door.” And Husband agreed. And naturally, yesterday, we almost chickened out. But, before we went to the market, Husband told me that we are supposed to bring our own bread. Because, you see, this market is a place where you can buy fish and shellfish and stuff and take it home and eat/cook it. But also, they will serve you a big platter of stuff you choose. But it’s not a full-service restaurant (they do have wine, so it’s OK, no need to panic). But, allegedly, they don’t have bread. And Husband told me this and asked me whether I thought we should get bread. And of course, I thought, no way, calories! But then we walked up to the fish place and I noticed another table with a baguette and I said to Husband “WE HAVE TO GET BREAD” almost in a panic. So we hightailed it (yeah, because we didn’t want to have the tables fill up while we were trying to find bread) to the nearest boulangerie (bakery). Of course, the internet nearly failed us… my phone’s GPS is broken… and the internet is just generally slow with our t-mobile plan… anyways, I digress. We found a bakery (see, normally you just walk around and see people carrying baguettes — like 3-4 at a time– and you kind of figure you’re on the right track. So this was challenge number one for us. What the hell do we order? Luckily, there was a guy in front of us who ordered “3 traditional” (in French of course). So when it was my turn, I just copied what he said… and they gave me two baguettes (I only wanted two, which is a good thing). Anyways, then we paid and went back to the fish place. Nervous, but now pumped by my successful bread buying, I was ready for this. “Do you speak English?” I said. The waiter (not really a waiter, but I don’t know the right word) said “A little.” “Can we have lunch?” “But of course!” OK! Now we are cooking with gas. We found a table, sat down. Then the waiter motions to me to come pick out the food, so I head over and we discuss a few things and settle on a big pile of seafood. We got 12 oysters… two varieties. 4 shrimp. 2 langoustines. One giant shrimp and a lobster. “Do you want mayonnaise or aoili?” “Yes, mayo, please” (I had read about this). “Lemon?” “Yes, of course. Also, Husband will choose wine.” And I made Husband go pick wine because I suck at that. A few minutes later, this is what arrived at the table.

Holy shizzknuckles, you guys. It was all so great! (OK, to be honest, everything except that giant shrimp was amazing. The giant shrimp could be skipped. It was not all that.). Great lunch!

We walked around town a bit more and found a shop where we got a sample size Calvados and a French whisky (what?). Oh and some sea salt caramels, for research. Then we headed back to the loft, after stopping at the grocery store. Which is where we saw the first Fiat Cinquecento in France. It was part of a display for Italian food. Wow.

We saw the second actually driving on the road, so no picture, because we were driving too! But we both pointed and shrieked like little girls. (in case you aren’t aware, these cars represent a “wildly good day” for us… because we are superstitious — mostly I am, but kind of both of us… after all, Husband has been taking voodoo ginseng the past week or so because reasons — which I’m pretty sure are all superstitions.)

The Gift

As we were headed back to our loft, I realized… holy fucking shit, we are going to a French house and we don’t have a hostess gift… and we both panicked. Do we get flowers? Where? Can we just get them at the grocery store? Do we need to find a flower shop? Quick, Husband, consult the Googles while I drive. Husband did as such and found out that cut flowers are basically the fucking devil when it comes to a hostess gift in France. Wine is OK, but could be insulting the host’s own wine collection. Nope. Ok, what else? Little guest soaps? Too girly or stupid or something. Chocolates? Just right. Ok, so we set off for a nearby town to find chocolates… or something.

We found some nice looking (and expensive as fuck) chocolates and bought them. Had a nice chat with the shop keeper at the wine/booze/beer/emergency chocolate store too. He wanted to know where we were from, what we were doing, or social security numbers and… no he didn’t care about that. But he was very nice. And spoke English. We should have probably met him for a pint. But we had plans… so back to the apartment for real this time.

The French are just as dangerous as the British…

When it comes to feeding us booze. We went to our AirBnb host’s home and met Isabelle’s husband, Herve. Neither of them speak a lot of English (but more than we speak French) and we don’t speak barely two words of French, so it was an interesting and entertaining evening filled with games of “pass the tablet, so we can translate things on Google.” Quite hilarious in fact! We sampled the pear cider that Herve made with the grand kids (les petits enfants… which is translated into English on google as “little children”, which is technically a correct — and very literal — translation, but it really means “grandchildren”, so we had a laugh about that too). Isabelle made another lovely apple and orange tart. Omg, so good. We ate the entire thing, the four of us. Then they rummaged through their huge liquor cabinet to retrieve the Calvados, which is very famous from Normandy (I always thought it was Spanish… oopsie), the Benedictine (also famous from Normandy, and the B&B which is Benedictine and Brandy because Benedictine on it’s own is very very sweet. So we had Calvados poured over apple sorbet (omg, what?) and we all tasted the Benedictine and the B&B. Also they might have had Cointreau. Goodness gracious. It was a fun night of crazy communicating and laughs. They are a great couple. If you ever get the chance to visit Normandy, stay here. I cannot recommend it more. It’s great. And Isabelle and Herve are wonderful. So sweet, despite the language barriers. We had a lovely time.

Normandy is also known for…

Dairy products. We already had tried the butter, which is the best I’ve ever had in my life dot com. So on to cheese. Normandy is famous for a lot of cheese, including Camembert and a bunch of other famous stuff. One thing I kept seeing was Neufchâtel. We have this in the US and it’s basically a low fat cream cheese, so this had me wondering. Then Husband pulled up the wikipedia article and that explained that the French cheese is wildly not at all cream fucking cheese. So we had to try it.

It comes in a heart shaped package.

And has a rind, similar to brie (which incidentally is totally different in France too, but that’s another post). The consistency right near the rind is also like a brie. Further in, it’s like a brie with a goat cheese center.

And the taste is kind of similar to a brie, I suppose. I’d probably be corrected here, but the thing is… it’s really good. A very very good cheese and totally unlike the cheese I am familiar with back home (nothing wrong with cream cheese, by the way, but it’s totally not the same thing).

Also we tried Pont L’Evêque. Also quite famous. It was pretty good. Much more mild and subtle than I expected. Good, but not as good as Neufchâtel. Who would have thunk that?

So, the cinquecenti delivered us an amazing last day in Normandy. Good luck, indeed!