Snails yes, but also something better than puppy dog tailsNow I know I wrote last time that it was much easier to find multicultural food in Melbourne than Paris. However what else the latter has over my home town is the speciality food stores. The Galleries Lafayette food hall will reveal snails and their shells, all the foie gras you want and a big selection of foods from other countries - yes, even Vegemite. For me, though there is something akin to Charlie's wonder when he sees the Chocolate Factory that comes over me when I enter a pâtisserie and see handmade cakes decorated by specialists. I have certainly eaten my fair share. But wait! Not only are there supermarkets, pâtisseries and the like, there is a little something I like to refer to as Sandra's Dream House. Barbie may have been in love with everything pink, fast cars, jewellery and the dubiously-gendered Ken, but for me, Marks & Spencer food shops are where I want to gambol like a lamb, dipping my nose into walls of cheeses, thrusting my hands deep into the shelves of cured meats and singing 'Sandra is alive with the sight of eating deee-iiiights ...' to the tune of The Sound of Music. I'll even wear a frock and striped apron if it adds to my joy (and your imagery).
Food porn is real. Really.Yes, I know M&S is British, not French, but hey I wasn't at war with either and have no sense of pride (or shame) when it comes to my food choices. Build it and I will eat it. There is everything in M&S. From cheese and onion sandwiches, to wine from New Zealand and Oz. From multiple types of sausage rolls, ready to cook pizzas and little buckets of chocolate. There's also delicious salads but who wants to look at those for food porn? Ooh yeh, salad, come to me baby, I want you so bad .... Uh, not. You'd think that with all the aforementioned I'd have enough food wouldn't you? Not likely. I haven't even started on the many outdoor and indoor markets in Paris. However thats another day, another blog, and after a diet or two of eating sad salads. In the interim, I'll let you lick your computer screen alone in the dark and think of me as my fat cells increasingly multiply and I become known as Mr Blobby's missus. Blobby, blobby, blobby!
Dying to comment? Sure! Just at the bottom of the page and no need to sign up!