First Thing's First: Current update
There’s no doubt you live in France when the top of your weekly grocery list reads the following:
-Baguettes
-Cheese
-Wine
When I pulled out my list this week I smiled inside. There were other things on the list, but that’s how it started. My culinary priorities are clearly straight here. Also, you know you’re a French foodie when you pick grocery stores by the diversity of their cheese selection. In case you're ever in Strasbourg, Gallery Gourmande is my first choice.
I know that if I don’t sit here and tap out another blog it will never get done. I knew I was taking too long on the Rome entry when my postcards to family members made it to the US before the blog got posted. Considering how ridiculous snail mail is, this is embarrassing.
Let’s start with a quick Elaine State of the Union.
I had a fabulous weekend filled with a daytrip to Heidelberg, Germany on Saturday, the Strasbourg summer solstice Fête de la Musique (Music Festival) Saturday night, and a spontaneous day trip to Château du Haut-Kœnigsbourg on Sunday (located near the village Sélestat just south of here).
What happened last week you might ask? Well....
This allowed me to enter and despite the crowds of tour groups, despite the incessant hushings from the guards, and despite all the anticipation I entered and enjoyed it for what it was: beautiful.
After all this Vatican touring, Elizabeth and I were tired and hungry. We decided the best way to rest was to get lunch and rest on her couches at the apartment since it was so close.
When In Rome….
I couldn’t have left Rome without sampling some pizza. So we went to the place just down her street.
-Baguettes
-Cheese
-Wine
When I pulled out my list this week I smiled inside. There were other things on the list, but that’s how it started. My culinary priorities are clearly straight here. Also, you know you’re a French foodie when you pick grocery stores by the diversity of their cheese selection. In case you're ever in Strasbourg, Gallery Gourmande is my first choice.
I know that if I don’t sit here and tap out another blog it will never get done. I knew I was taking too long on the Rome entry when my postcards to family members made it to the US before the blog got posted. Considering how ridiculous snail mail is, this is embarrassing.
Let’s start with a quick Elaine State of the Union.
I had a fabulous weekend filled with a daytrip to Heidelberg, Germany on Saturday, the Strasbourg summer solstice Fête de la Musique (Music Festival) Saturday night, and a spontaneous day trip to Château du Haut-Kœnigsbourg on Sunday (located near the village Sélestat just south of here).
What happened last week you might ask? Well....
The beginning of last week was not so great. I got really homesick. It was not helped by that fact that I felt horrible. No, I wasn’t sick, but either my body did one of those things where I just wear it out and it decides to enforce compusory rest or I had some type of weird allergic reaction to something. I had absolutely NO energy what-so-ever, my appetite disappeared (quite unusual for me), I slept away most evenings, and felt lethargic all the time. I felt like my blood pressure was really low and I think subcontiously whenever my body acts out of whack (especially dealing with cardiovascular anything) I get paranoid considering I've had two young friends literally drop dead from sudden heart complications.
Bottom line: I felt like crap.
This is further complicated by the fact that – pardon my French – I live in a shit house. The co-ed, down the hall bathrooms smell like urine, get trashed by boys who can’t aim, the walls of our rooms are very thin and I can hear people blaring American 90’s rap and rock at all hours of the night, and my room lacks anything beyond primitive comfort.
I’m complaining, yet I’m getting paid to spend the summer in France. Yes I know. But at this point I’ve almost been away from home for two months, and I really don’t have friends here. Though hanging out with my lab co-workers is helping a lot. Sometimes you just get tired of it.
By the end of the week I was back to my high-energy, power-spirited self. Go figure. I indulged myself in a pity party of homesickness: then got over myself.
This is further complicated by the fact that – pardon my French – I live in a shit house. The co-ed, down the hall bathrooms smell like urine, get trashed by boys who can’t aim, the walls of our rooms are very thin and I can hear people blaring American 90’s rap and rock at all hours of the night, and my room lacks anything beyond primitive comfort.
I’m complaining, yet I’m getting paid to spend the summer in France. Yes I know. But at this point I’ve almost been away from home for two months, and I really don’t have friends here. Though hanging out with my lab co-workers is helping a lot. Sometimes you just get tired of it.
By the end of the week I was back to my high-energy, power-spirited self. Go figure. I indulged myself in a pity party of homesickness: then got over myself.
Special Guest Star
And surprise! I’ll be hosting a visitor this Saturday.
He’ll come bearing gifts of spicy salsa, my coveted Nature’s Valley Granola Bars that I normally eat every morning, zip lock bags, and a few other American luxuries. Couple more hints for the slow:
And surprise! I’ll be hosting a visitor this Saturday.
He’ll come bearing gifts of spicy salsa, my coveted Nature’s Valley Granola Bars that I normally eat every morning, zip lock bags, and a few other American luxuries. Couple more hints for the slow:
- It’s a visitor I had in Europe this time last year
- I’ve known him all my life – literally
- I look like a female carbon copy of him
It’s my daddy!
I made my parents promise he wasn’t arranging the trip because I got homesick. After several conversations where I made it quite clear this damsel needs no rescuing and clarified that I "can do it myself" we reached a deal. More skype phone calls later (in a sentence: Skype is the free, international internet phone service) my parents convinced me that this was sincerely an open opportunity to come, which means I’m going to have a travel buddy! I’ve already arranged to have a four day weekend with work and we’ll be setting off to see France the weekend of July 4! He'll be arriving this Saturday morning so I've got lots to do!
If only he could pack a toilet seat and Rudy's BBQ…..
- I’ve known him all my life – literally
- I look like a female carbon copy of him
It’s my daddy!
I made my parents promise he wasn’t arranging the trip because I got homesick. After several conversations where I made it quite clear this damsel needs no rescuing and clarified that I "can do it myself" we reached a deal. More skype phone calls later (in a sentence: Skype is the free, international internet phone service) my parents convinced me that this was sincerely an open opportunity to come, which means I’m going to have a travel buddy! I’ve already arranged to have a four day weekend with work and we’ll be setting off to see France the weekend of July 4! He'll be arriving this Saturday morning so I've got lots to do!
If only he could pack a toilet seat and Rudy's BBQ…..
Roma: Part II of the Saga (might be II of III because I have work tomorrow)
Part of me feels really guilty I got so behind on this blog because I feel like it gives the impression that it was not a fabulous weekend, because it was. I could not have asked for a better Rome experience with Elizabeth and it was worth all the arrangements to get there.
I left off on Saturday. Goodness. I am sooooooooo slow!
As a Catholic, it would be remiss for me to skip the Vatican. So we made this Saturday’s first priority. We both woke up in her lovely apartment, got ready, and set off to beat the hoards of tourists. As two true caffeine consumers, we stopped off and got a cappuccino to go before hitting the Vatican Museum line. We got there right as the line opened, and were able to get inside pretty quickly all things considered.
Part of me feels really guilty I got so behind on this blog because I feel like it gives the impression that it was not a fabulous weekend, because it was. I could not have asked for a better Rome experience with Elizabeth and it was worth all the arrangements to get there.
I left off on Saturday. Goodness. I am sooooooooo slow!
As a Catholic, it would be remiss for me to skip the Vatican. So we made this Saturday’s first priority. We both woke up in her lovely apartment, got ready, and set off to beat the hoards of tourists. As two true caffeine consumers, we stopped off and got a cappuccino to go before hitting the Vatican Museum line. We got there right as the line opened, and were able to get inside pretty quickly all things considered.
Where we got our coffee. This is NOT the type of pizza I talk about later.
Overall, I really enjoyed it. I must admit I’m no expert Catholic, and I’m sure that I missed some things that other staunch Catholics would have known all about. However, between me the Catholic and Elizabeth the student in Rome we covered our bases pretty well.
______________________________
______________________________
Random Observation from the Vatican Museum:
Before entering the maze of art and old things, I figured we should hit the bathroom. It was a lucky guess that historic papal governances wouldn’t be taking female bladder concerns into account while designing the Vatican.
We had the same idea as a lot of other women.
Don’t get me started. No male bathroom line and a women’s line that went outside basement entrance to the restrooms. There was a tour group of Japanese and another of Indian women in front of us. Elizabeth and I were enjoying the time to talk, so we weren’t bothered.
Apparently the Japanese women decided to take matters into their own hands. Several slipped out of line and went into the empty men’s restroom unnoticed by the attendance.
They came out, and signaled to a few others. Well the second wave got noticed by the Italian bathroom attendants and they went flying in after them yelling in Italian.
The Japanese women and a few of the Indian women tried a few more times, and I don’t blame them. Helped our line go faster. This was just comical. Also of significant humor was the disturbed look in the men's faces coming out of the bathroom as women were going in.
______________________________
I enjoyed the Vatican museum. It had all of the art collections, but my only bone to pick was that you spend so much time on Roman/Egyptian art in the beginning that by the time you finally make it to the Catholic religious art you feel burnt out.
My travel suggestion: go quickly through this first part.
One of my favorite parts of the museum was the hall of tapestries. (Don't remember the actual name, so sue me.) They would be easy to overlook at first, but when you take the time to examine their complexity you realize how hard it must have been to weave. The nativity scene really struck me because it was the first time through the museum where I felt a connection of “oh yeah! this is art familiar to me on a personal level!”
Before entering the maze of art and old things, I figured we should hit the bathroom. It was a lucky guess that historic papal governances wouldn’t be taking female bladder concerns into account while designing the Vatican.
We had the same idea as a lot of other women.
Don’t get me started. No male bathroom line and a women’s line that went outside basement entrance to the restrooms. There was a tour group of Japanese and another of Indian women in front of us. Elizabeth and I were enjoying the time to talk, so we weren’t bothered.
Apparently the Japanese women decided to take matters into their own hands. Several slipped out of line and went into the empty men’s restroom unnoticed by the attendance.
They came out, and signaled to a few others. Well the second wave got noticed by the Italian bathroom attendants and they went flying in after them yelling in Italian.
The Japanese women and a few of the Indian women tried a few more times, and I don’t blame them. Helped our line go faster. This was just comical. Also of significant humor was the disturbed look in the men's faces coming out of the bathroom as women were going in.
______________________________
I enjoyed the Vatican museum. It had all of the art collections, but my only bone to pick was that you spend so much time on Roman/Egyptian art in the beginning that by the time you finally make it to the Catholic religious art you feel burnt out.
My travel suggestion: go quickly through this first part.
One of my favorite parts of the museum was the hall of tapestries. (Don't remember the actual name, so sue me.) They would be easy to overlook at first, but when you take the time to examine their complexity you realize how hard it must have been to weave. The nativity scene really struck me because it was the first time through the museum where I felt a connection of “oh yeah! this is art familiar to me on a personal level!”
The tapestries proved to be of further signficance to me, as Adamo pointed out, because of one of my all time favorite religious poems, Plan of the Master Weaver, which my mom gave to me after my car accident. Here's a link to a version on the internet in case you're interested.
Simple, I know, but you take it so much it’s easy to get artistically overwhelmed. I firmly believe that this is what’s so great about art museums. No two people go through and find the same things inspiring. Admittedly, famous pieces usually result in the famous reactions – unless they're famously disappointing. I take great pleasure in leaving museums with impressions from art that I’ve never heard anyone else talk about.
The tapestries did it for me at the Vatican.
There was also a Jesus whose eyes followed you like Uncle Sam. This was just amusing.
Elizabeth did a good job setting me up for the Sistine Chapel. The restorations which went on for years are complete and her class went through last week. She said that they all went in there expecting heaven on earth which can ultimately only lead to a let down. So I took her advice and went in expecting just a pretty painting.
The tapestries did it for me at the Vatican.
There was also a Jesus whose eyes followed you like Uncle Sam. This was just amusing.
Elizabeth did a good job setting me up for the Sistine Chapel. The restorations which went on for years are complete and her class went through last week. She said that they all went in there expecting heaven on earth which can ultimately only lead to a let down. So I took her advice and went in expecting just a pretty painting.
Picture of the Sistine Chapel from the internet because you can't take pictures while you're there. Figured this would make a helpful reference for readers unfamiliar with Italian art.
This allowed me to enter and despite the crowds of tour groups, despite the incessant hushings from the guards, and despite all the anticipation I entered and enjoyed it for what it was: beautiful.
After all this Vatican touring, Elizabeth and I were tired and hungry. We decided the best way to rest was to get lunch and rest on her couches at the apartment since it was so close.
When In Rome….
I couldn’t have left Rome without sampling some pizza. So we went to the place just down her street.
In Italy, you pick out the type of pizza you want (we both got eggplant) and then they slice off how much you want, weigh it, and then slip it into a brick oven. When they get it back out they fold it over like a pizza sandwich and give it to you in a parchment wrap.
OH MY GOD.
Let’s be frank.
I’m not sure which was more holy: the Vatican, or this pizza.
The bottom was just lightly crispy. It was oven hot, yet didn’t burn your tongue. The cheese was some type I’d never tasted before. I’m thinking it might have been a type of goat cheese. Very rich and spongy so there didn't have to be a lot of it. The eggplant was a unique topping for me at least, and the sauce was flavorful without being distracting.
This divine pizza coupled with our tourist appetites forced me to use every single ounce of restrant to not inhale the pizza before the apartment.
I don’t have one of my signature food pictures because I was busy eating. This is probably for the better because I want this pizza just as bad as I wanted the gelato last entry.
It’s a good thing I’m living in France. The food is good and I’m eating plenty of aforementioned cheeses, baguettes, pastries, etc….but not like the Italian food. My scale would be getting a big ol’ souvenir in August if my research was in Italy.
We’re both getting old. I needed to rest my feet. When did this happen? I felt like a 40 year old. Goodness that’s old! ;)
Afterwards, we needed another boost. Gelato time!
Seriously, I hope the food in heaven is like the food I had in Italy.
St. Peter’s
What I’m about to say may get me excommunicated.
In the two weeks it’s taken me to write this blog I’ve thought a lot about this and why I had the reaction I did.
I didn’t think it was all that spectacular.
Gasp. Swoon. Faint. Scream. Shame. Anxiety attack. Excommunication.
I thought and thought about it. Here is the Mother Ship of all churches and I wasn’t impressed. This must make me a Catholic mutant right?
Well I thought about it. In the past two summers, I’ve seen some pretty spectacular churches. Many lesser known. St. Peter’s holds most of the religious significance, but I remembered back to last summer.
The Benedictine Abby in Melk, Austria; complete with its rose interiors stunned me.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Melk_Abbey
St. Stephen's Basilica in Budapest, Hungary; a surprising delight.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Saint_Stephen
And one of my favorite churches of all time in Vienna; Karlskirche.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Karlskirche
I’ve seen old and humble chapels in Edinburgh’s castle, majestic English cathedrals, and Chagall stained glass in Germany.
Sincerely I’m not trying to make myself sound pompous. This just explains why I had the reaction I did.
Never-the-less, it was very impressive and grand. Elizabeth and I also came across the beginnings of a wedding in one of the side chapels. We had a lot of fun watching them set up for this, and making up circumstances that warrant someone getting married IN St. Peters. Everything from mob connections to related to a nun (who was present) made the list
As much as I’d like to keep typing, I’ve now spent over an hour on this blog and it’s after 1 a.m. This little chemist needs to wake up tomorrow and do an acid/base work up on her boronic acid –again- and run a column on her Suzuki coupling product. I also need to plan my dad’s stay here in France.
Never a dull moment. I’m not taking the time to re-read over this like I usual do, so deal with the writing imperfections.
Elaine
OH MY GOD.
Let’s be frank.
I’m not sure which was more holy: the Vatican, or this pizza.
The bottom was just lightly crispy. It was oven hot, yet didn’t burn your tongue. The cheese was some type I’d never tasted before. I’m thinking it might have been a type of goat cheese. Very rich and spongy so there didn't have to be a lot of it. The eggplant was a unique topping for me at least, and the sauce was flavorful without being distracting.
This divine pizza coupled with our tourist appetites forced me to use every single ounce of restrant to not inhale the pizza before the apartment.
I don’t have one of my signature food pictures because I was busy eating. This is probably for the better because I want this pizza just as bad as I wanted the gelato last entry.
It’s a good thing I’m living in France. The food is good and I’m eating plenty of aforementioned cheeses, baguettes, pastries, etc….but not like the Italian food. My scale would be getting a big ol’ souvenir in August if my research was in Italy.
We’re both getting old. I needed to rest my feet. When did this happen? I felt like a 40 year old. Goodness that’s old! ;)
Afterwards, we needed another boost. Gelato time!
Seriously, I hope the food in heaven is like the food I had in Italy.
St. Peter’s
What I’m about to say may get me excommunicated.
In the two weeks it’s taken me to write this blog I’ve thought a lot about this and why I had the reaction I did.
I didn’t think it was all that spectacular.
Gasp. Swoon. Faint. Scream. Shame. Anxiety attack. Excommunication.
I thought and thought about it. Here is the Mother Ship of all churches and I wasn’t impressed. This must make me a Catholic mutant right?
Well I thought about it. In the past two summers, I’ve seen some pretty spectacular churches. Many lesser known. St. Peter’s holds most of the religious significance, but I remembered back to last summer.
The Benedictine Abby in Melk, Austria; complete with its rose interiors stunned me.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Melk_Abbey
St. Stephen's Basilica in Budapest, Hungary; a surprising delight.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Saint_Stephen
And one of my favorite churches of all time in Vienna; Karlskirche.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Karlskirche
I’ve seen old and humble chapels in Edinburgh’s castle, majestic English cathedrals, and Chagall stained glass in Germany.
Sincerely I’m not trying to make myself sound pompous. This just explains why I had the reaction I did.
Never-the-less, it was very impressive and grand. Elizabeth and I also came across the beginnings of a wedding in one of the side chapels. We had a lot of fun watching them set up for this, and making up circumstances that warrant someone getting married IN St. Peters. Everything from mob connections to related to a nun (who was present) made the list
As much as I’d like to keep typing, I’ve now spent over an hour on this blog and it’s after 1 a.m. This little chemist needs to wake up tomorrow and do an acid/base work up on her boronic acid –again- and run a column on her Suzuki coupling product. I also need to plan my dad’s stay here in France.
Never a dull moment. I’m not taking the time to re-read over this like I usual do, so deal with the writing imperfections.
Elaine
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12 comments:
What a perfect way to greet my morning...a blog update! I can't wait for you to come home and shop at HEB.
Your writing looked just great - interesting and informative at the same time, as always. Your descriptions and pictures bring back all sorts of pleasant memories of my European travels. Your Dad should have a great time seeing France with you. I bet a big reason why he is coming to visit is so he can experience France with someone who knows the local lay of the land. Much better than visiting the way most tourists do. Keep on traveling and writing for us back home.
Don't you just love the bread in France?
I am all about rescuing this damsel. But since it's not rescuing, so very glad your dad is coming.
It was in fact those tapestries that I thought of the first time you told me about the poem.
That's great that the renovations were over in the Sistine chapel. I don't think they were when I was there. Very cool.
That sounds like a great way to get pizza. Oddly, I don't think that's how I ever got it ANYWHERE in Italy. Sounds really good though. But really, no picture? We see your ice cream/gelato everywhere, but no picture of the 'holy pizza' ?
40 years old? Maybe YOU're the cradle robber-haha
Suzuki is really good for motorcycles, not so much for cars. Just a heads up
Wow, so was the 2/3 or 2/4? seriously. Haha. But I'm sure all your readers are very greatful for the update.
And yes. Thank you very much for the post card. What timing. Ridiculous
LL
Elaine sometimes I can't figure out where you entries end to leave comments!
That's very exciting you'll be getting a visitor! I'll be asking your advice about what especially not to forget for when I go!
Good thing I don't care for salsa, cause that's one thing that's hard to come by in Europe.
P.S. I <3 your grocery shopping list. I think I've been eating too much imported cheese. It's hurting my waistline not to mention my pocket.
Well thank you, Elaine. Now I know what I want for supper tonight. Pizza. Although I hardly think a pizza from Greenwood would even compare, but my mouth is quivering for cheese and sauce. I'm heading to Kohl's to buy a "cool pillow". It's supposed to stay nice and cool thru the night. We'll see! That's probably the last thing you would want in YOUR room right now! Then I'm going to Jodi's and Cindy's houses for various things. Wish you were here in Indy with me. But you would rather be in FRANCE. Keep having fun.
I agree with Dangerous on the issue of pizza in Italy. All the pizzas I ever got in Italy were thin and topped with pitifully few ingredients scattered in a random, uneven pattern across the pizza landscape. You must have been incredibly lucky to find such a delicious one.
Bill, why don't you bring Elaine some plain M&Ms when you come?
HAHA!!! Oh, believe me, Linda, Bill will be heading to France with an entire suitcase dedicated to Elaine comforts. But most of those comforts are Texas related as in hot sauce, peppers, BBQ, etc. I said it before and I'll say it again ~ you can take the girl out of Texas but you can't take the Texas out of the girl!!!
Although what she probably wants the most, we can't deliver. And that would be one very handsome Marine who just wouldn't fit in a suitcase.
We may have to wait for it, but you don't disappoint when you do update the blog. Great job! That pizza sounds divine, and I've had gelato at a shop near here but would like to get the real stuff sometime. And the photos are wonderful as well.
Loved the Special Guest Star hints. Do we get a souvenir if we guessed who it was before you told us?
No. No souvenir for Susan. No. No. No.
I am a very positive boy and I say yes yes yes to souvenirs for everybody! Don't listen to Jackpot. He's too negative, even from Heaven.
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