Wednesday afternoon I stumbled across an afternoon market, which of course made me starving. If I weren’t allergic to half the ingredients I would have asked for a little container of that paella!
I’ve never cooked Poulet de Bresse, but I know chicken in France always tastes more like CHICKEN and less like Something Bland….I assume this is why?
Doesn’t this look perfect for a cold winter afternoon?
Ben came to Paris for the weekend; a long trip for two days but it was so much fun. I crossed my fingers as hard as I could, wishing for a bit of decent weather (Sunday was forecast “Rain and Strong Winds,” or as a taxi driver later called it “une tempête”) and Saturday I got my wish. Ben arrived around 8, napped for a while, and then we indulged the urge for coffee and pain au chocolat before setting out for the Clignancourt flea market. First, though, we wandered through the tiny market at the end of our street–nothing special, just fresh meat and poultry, amazing veggies, fingerling potatoes in a box of soil, fresh sea urchins… You know, the usual.