We all know France does not celebrate Thanksgiving. However, being surrounded by such fresh food one would think that putting together a Thanksgiving meal would be easy. Wait. No. I almost forgot I was in France for a moment. Thank heavens we are eating on Saturday and not tomorrow, because my friends, this will be a feat if I pull it off.
Let's talk turkey.
I knew I couldn't do the normal size "American" turkey (where we know how to feed a turkey). Have you seen the size of my refrigerator? Not a pretty sight. So, that smart Martha Stewart came up with a recipe just for the turkey breast. Shopping list in hand, I head out with my French teacher to the market and the butchers. We ordered the turkey breast and I have to tell you, I was feeling pretty good.
Then I realized after reading the recipe again, that I needed the skin of the Turkey to remain attached. Foolishly, I went down to "request" the skin remain on the breast of turkey.
First off, he looks at me like I am speaking Russian instead of French. I try again. Nope, not getting it. Trust me, this has happened a time or two, so I whip out my hand written note of what I'm trying to say.
He cordially reads it, still acting as if maybe I have written it in Russian. Reads it once more aloud and says, "NO."
He goes into some kind of speech explaining himself and by the look of astonishment on my face, he feels like he should expand on his rant, so he pulls out a breast of "skinless" turkey breast. As if to say, "see, they don't come with skin."
No, shit Sherlock, when you remove the SKIN, it becomes skinless!
As I look around the shop I am amazed that I am being looked at like I'm the asshole.
There are chickens with heads, beaks, feet and o' yes, skin still attached!!!
My eyes fall upon chicken legs and breasts, with skin!
I'm not sure about you, but I have never seen a featherless turkey running around. So, I KNOW, it had some skin at one time. So my question for him is "what did you do with it?" Furthermore, I want it back!
Did I leave there with what I wanted? Of course not. This is Paris. The customer is not always right, and apparently neither is mother nature, because somewhere in the countryside of France there are a bunch of naked turkeys running around!
I know, take a pill or something.
I do have pictures.
Today I took the kids out to see the Christmas windows in Paris. I think we will chalk that experience up to, been there done that. Growing up in Pleasanton and watching movies with New York Christmas windows, you think that it must be something that you have to do. Let me be the first to let you know that they did not film those magical moments at 2:30 on a Wednesday afternoon. That being said, the kids did enjoy them and I got a glimpse into what I think their dreams look like.
What I imagine one of Jaylee's tea party dreams to look like.
Aidan's dreams might look something like this.
Walking home after this little outing (ass kicking), Sabina and I look up to see this.God does shine down on Paris, I just have to look up to see it.