Back to Basics

DISCLAIMER: THIS IS FILLED WITH FIRST WORLD PROBLEMS. We’ll get to the nitty gritty of French antisemitism, race wars, socioeconomic crises, and blatant misogyny later in the fall. What fun!

First and foremost, shanah tovah and happy 5772! 117 years after the Dreyfus Affair, France still has some major problems with the chosen people. Lucky for me, I have apples, honey, and a loud Jewish family a few floors down to make me feel right at home.

Rosh Hashanah, which opens a season that is all about holding grudges and getting smote repenting and being inscribed in the book of life, is as good a time as any to remember balance. Between having my first visitor last week (a charming and pleasantly sassy fellow Fulbrighter), starting to get organized for research at the Bibliothèque Nationale and La Sorbonne, getting lost MANY times, being told I wasn't Jewish by a stranger on the métro, and hearing French scholars’ takes on the intersection of feminism and art -- which is (quel suprise!) neither favorable nor very open to new interpretations -- I managed to get a little frazzled. But I was keeping it all together until my new this-will-make-you-walk normally (HA!) gizmo stopped working before an appointment across town. Madames et Messieurs, I give you the emotional Chernobyl!

For the first time since a slightly traumatic thesis experience, the flexibility and calm on which I had so prided myself disappeared instantly. So I went back to basics, cautiously expanded my comfort zone, and remembered a few easy things always seem to make life a little bit better.

The first is green food. Broccoli and lettuces, spinach, peppers, and other local produce.* Although Paris is morphing quickly into fall, the temperatures are still warm enough for a last crop of summer vegetables. To celebrate, I’ve gone back to simple salads, adding steamed veggies, crunchy apples, pan-roasted summer squash, assorted beans, and staples like carrots and tomatoes. Top it with an easy homemade vinaigrette** and a little good cheese, and nom nom nom, dinner is served in minutes. Don’t forget that heart-healthy glass of red wine!

The second was remembering that humans are very sexual social creatures. I started eating lunch with a group of graduate students at La Sorbonne, and went to the first party that I was invited to in the city. When it came to the latter, I was nervous about presenting myself -- in a different language -- to real people with real jobs. Art historians, by and large, are strange characters with rich inner lives and interesting social skills. Our version of game consists of the questions: what’s your favorite line of Prufrock? or If you were buried at Père-Lachaise, who would you want to be next to? or Do you want to explain Lacan to me...in the bedroom? BUT I’m so glad I went, and would encourage all fellow babes in the woods to do the same. Everyone wanted to know about Detroit, which is less post-industrial grit and more romantic European concept here. And the questions abounded. I looked sweet, was I hiding my gangster side? Did I like techno? How could it not be safe to walk home from downtown at 2am? Was I related to Eminem? Now that is something I can talk about.

Add a long walk, several cups of coffee, and a good feminist read, and I was back in business. Hoping all of you are too. Santé!

* For those interested in eating local in the US, there is a national network of Community Supported Agriculture and a surprising number of farmers’ markets popping up in unexpected cities.

** Simple Vinaigrette
Makes several servings; keeps refrigerated for 7-10 days.

1/2 cup olive oil
1/2 cup balsamic vinegar
2 drops of red wine vinegar
1 heaping tbsp. dijon mustard
1 tbsp. honey (more if you want to cut the acid)
1/2 cup of fresh basil leaves

Place ingredients in a blender, or use a bowl large enough to accommodate an immersion wand. Blend until creamy. Instant yum.

Cuisiner sans four? Mais Ouais!

There is something very calming about making food. In this city - and really, in any city - it becomes so easy to lose track of one's center. I lurch forward with the mass of humanity on the métro, walk faster, smile far less, pull out defensive mechanisms far more, and worry so much about where I'm going that I sometimes forget to take in the scenery. While the last may not have been a problem when commuting to my former job, in Houston (see: terrible urban planning), it is here, where the winding Haussmanian boulevards and nineteenth-century buildings share space with with more recent cafés, sweet newspaper stands, and extremely beautiful people.

Having not yet found a yoga studio to reconnect myself with the universe, I turned to the next best thing: the kitchen. Grace à my big Jewish family, where food is inextricably connected with love, cooking has long been ritual; I move from cutting board to stovetop with surprising grace, understand improvisation in a new light, and generally end the night feeling very grounded. Moving here, however, demanded something new: I have never been without an oven. I'm used to roasting vegetables, toasting granola, and whipping up breads and baked goods. But after three days of cheese and jam sandwiches and greek yogurt, I figured I should get to work, oven or no oven.


If the darling space wasn't tempting enough, the previous tenant also left a gorgeous knife set. What better way to try it out, than on a new recipe?

Eggs in a Tomato-Spinach Sauce

Serves 2

1 tbsp. olive oil
2 small to medium sized tomatoes, finely chopped
4 oz/125 g spinach (about a bag; use more if desired)
10-12 oz (about 1 can) of whatever pasta sauce you like (I prefer sweet and mushroomy)
2-3 eggs
2 cloves garlic, minced or chopped into thin slivers
1 onion, diced
4 hearty slices baguette or grainy toast.

Optional:
1/2 cup finely chopped mushrooms
teaspoon: basil, oregano, sea salt, black pepper, dash of cinnamon
Glug of wine
Cheese! Whatever kind you like, and as much as you want.

Prep work: Because this recipe cooks rather quickly and needs supervision, prepare the bread/toast and cheese beforehand. Just place 2 slices of bread on each plate and set the cheese aside. I've only made the recipe with sliced chevre and camembert, but I imagine it would be delicious with crumbled feta, grated parmesan, manchego, mozzarella or even a shredded sharp cheddar.

In a medium sized saucepan, sauté the onion, garlic, and herbs at medium heat until the garlic is just slightly browned. Add spinach in two stages, allowing to cook down (about 1 minute). Stir in tomatoes, tomato sauce, wine and cinnamon. Reduce the heat, bringing the liquid mixture to a slow boil. Crack the eggs one at a time into the sauce, delicately enough so that they remain afloat (if they sink, they will scramble a bit but still be delicious). Using a teaspoon or spatula, gently baste the egg whites in the tomatoey liquid until they are firm, about three minutes. Cook 30 seconds to a minute more for runny yolks; longer for firmer yolks.

When the eggs are finished to your personal liking, ladle the egg-tomato-spinach mixture onto bread, topping it with cheese. Serve immediately. Bon Appétit!

Bienvenue!

Since an art history paper three years ago brought me face-to-face with the academic connotations of social media, I’ve paid significantly more attention to blogs. Ones like Smitten Kitchen and Big Girls Small Kitchen taught me how to cook on a tight budget and tighter schedule; academichic chronicled dressing for academia (the degree to which I absorbed this information is highly debatable); CultureGrrl kept me informed of art historical happenings not always covered by newspapers. Add to that my brother’s sociological exploration into Bieber Fever, which made me think twice about dismissing the mop-haired tween heartthrob, and I was roped into the blogosphere.

But I did not think of starting one until last week, when a former professor suggested it over tea. They are so self serving, I told her. I don’t really want to know that my friend in Firenze just had the world’s best demitasse of expresso if my post-industrial midwestern existence cannot possibly come close to that. And what good is the information that making love in a water taxi is far better than doing it by the Brandenburger Tor, if readers can’t have either? But as we were leaving the café, she reminded me that I liked to write, and that a blog was an appropriate place for the flowery prose I loved so much.

So to justify this blogtastic experiment, I am trying to create something informative. Although I might share a few personal experiences from time to time, I am more interested in providing useful information for students and young professionals studying abroad and/or moving into new careers. Topics -- all attempting to show that France is much more than baguettes and turtlenecks -- will range from academic research, writing and the big grad school debate to cooking and eating on a budget, the Parisian slam poetry scene, perceptions of Americans abroad, and socializing in a new city. And if another relevant topic comes up, so be it.

And if blogs aren’t your thing, don’t read them.