I Don't Know What to Call This Recipe

This is my first formal attempt at a recipe post! Here we go!

So I was hungry and messing around in my host family's kitchen, and I ended up making a combo of Eggs in a Basket (aka Egg in the Hole, Toad in the Hole, etc.) and grilled cheese with tomatoes. This is not a recipe for that. It was delicious, but not very pretty. If I've learned anything from France and its food, it is that presentation is half the fun.

So I got this idea of making a French Toastish thing combined with an open faced grilled cheese with tomatoes. I absolutely love cooking, and this was really fun and really easy.

Ingredients:
Two pieces of sliced bread
One egg
A dash of milk
Two little tomatoes
Sprinkle cheese
Herbs de Provence

I started out with beating the egg in the bowl with milk. I wanted to add egg to this instead of just grilling with butter in attempt to be a little more healthy and to add some protein.

These tomatoes are delicious and strangely shaped.

After beating the egg and milk, I soaked the bread in the egg just like one would do for French toast.

I then continued to fry it in the pan until it was golden brown.

With the bread still in the pan, I added cheese, the tomatoes, and more cheese on top.

I wanted to just melt the cheese, but since it wasn't melting very quickly, I ended up flipping the whole piece over so the tomatoes and cheese were face down in the pan. I used a small pan, so this was really easy to do. It melted the cheese and fried the tomatoes a bit.

 I then added the Herbs de Provence, and viola! Easy and delicious.

This week has been a whirlwind of ending our first session of classes, trying to get over the cold of death that has fully circulated through our whole group, and France's national Fete de Musique. It was a wonderful night of over 20 stages all around Pau and thousands of people. There were marching bands, polka bands, drum circles, and more people than we've ever seen in Pau.

Today I have been cleaning and packing for our trip to Paris. We're leaving tomorrow and will be in Paris for three full days, and then a few friends and I have plans to leave for Barcelona for the weekend. I am very, very excited to see Paris, and to just travel without having to do homework or go to class. I'm not really sure how I am going to manage to blog about this week because we will be doing so much. We'll see!

In the Mountains

I am currently avoiding studying for our last test of this session by writing this post. I am also drinking thé fruits rouges while eating biscottes with assorted cheeses. This is serving as a little snack before I undertake a made up recipe for tonight's dinner, and you best be sure I'll blog about it.

I've had a cold since Friday, and all I've been doing is going to class in the morning and coming home to sleep the rest of the day. I have to kick this thing before we leave for Paris next week, because the trip is going to be almost inhumanly busy and there's no way I could do it while infirm. Tomorrow I'll be going to the pharmacie to purchase some cold medicine called Humex, I haven't had time to go during open hours. Mostly everything here is closed from 12:30-2:30 for lunch. 

This weekend, despite being slightly sick, I refused to sit home. Our school had organized a group trip to the mountains, but three hours of hiking in 80 degree weather did not appeal to my friends and I. Renting a car is more our style, and by doing this we see more that is off the beaten path. Saturday we went to a little town called Lacommande for a wine festival they were having at the Masion de Jurançon. Jurançon wine is a very popular white wine made in Jurançon, which is just south of Pau. 

We had lots of fun driving through the tiny French towns along the way, and the countryside was absolutely beautiful. 

This church was really, really beautiful. 

It was truly a relaxing day of people watching, poetry, music, and enjoying the little town. 

Sunday we went straight into the heart of the Pyrénées Mountains to a beautiful town called Laruns. I am always so fascinated by how huge and beautiful mountains are, and I'm not used to them, not having ever lived near them. My face was basically plastered to the window the whole time we were driving. 

The overhanging clouds were so beautiful, and it was great because they cleared up later, so we could see everything. 

We found these cute horses with their baby, but we felt really bad because they were basically covered in flies. The flies there were insane, and we had a hard time enjoying our meal when we had to constantly keep them off our food. The worst part about have a cold is France is that the taste buds are not fully working. 

I have been experiencing my first tiny bout of homesickness, and not for Chicago, but for Minneapolis! I miss everyone and speaking English with everyone. Putting constant effort into language is tiring, but worth it. I can't help getting so excited for this fall, and I feel a bit guilty for looking so far ahead, considering where I am, but that's how I've always been. I struggle with enjoying the present because my attention likes to dwell on the past or on things to come. I am excited to have an apartment with my amazing friend Deanna. I'm excited for my last semester of classes, even though it's going to nearly kill me. I'm taking 19 credits, being a TA for one of my fabulous professors, and I want to audit Theatre literature, which is a weekend class. I do admit that I am cramming in everything that I want to do before it's too late, but I think it'll be worth it.  Then spring semester is student teaching! The location is still TBA, but some international locations are possible, which means more travels to blog about! 

Also, my soundtrack of this trip has been Birdy's new self-titled album. I love every song on this thing, so check it out! 

Fashion in Pau

I am a firm believer that most things are, in fact, relative. This includes fashion.
I packed most of my nice clothes, scared to be under dressed among the French. I don't really wear sweats in public and I always like to look somewhat nice, so I wasn't very worried. I have thus discovered that there are frumpy, tacky, and ghetto people almost everywhere.

On a normal day here in Pau, one would notice the scarves. Men, women, and little children all sport these convenient neck warmers with almost every kind of outfit. They are shorter and tied a bit differently here, like so:

I was thinking about it today, I don't think I would have ever tied this scarf like this in the States. 

You see women who look blatantly French, dark colors, skinny jeans, heels, a blazer. The definition of chic. But then right behind them will be an overweight person in nasty sweat pants. I think we get the idea that everyone in a certain place all do the same thing. This couldn't be less true, and there are always going to be a mix of fashionistas and tacky schmucks. My friend Christopher commented that one of his bus rides was strangely reminiscent of the People of Walmart. 

Another strange realization: places in France are comparable to regions in the USA. For example, a student worker we know from Pau is going to study abroad in Ohio or Iowa, I don't remember, but when telling people this, she always get's a surprised "WHY?" No one can image actually wanting to go to these places when you have New York, the west and east coast, and many other more exciting places. My friends and I have come to the conclusion that Pau might just be France's Iowa. Of course to us, any place in France is amazing, but it's funny how these ideas transcend cultures. There are many, many high end shops here in Pau, and we always wonder who shops there. People here don't have a ton of money and no one really dresses like a fashion model, and this is reflected in H&M being notably busier than Hugo Boss. 

Despite the fashion standards, I am truly having a good time here. I probably would prefer a larger city if I was ever to live here, but it's France all the same. 

Also, I have noticed that I am getting less nervous when I am forced to talk to French people. Today at the bus stop, a man asked me if the bus went to a certain stop and if it had already left. I completely understood him, and I found myself answering without thinking about it. I also had my first dream in French. It was really strange. Hilary Clinton was my aunt and we were in a huge store frantically looking for Bose headphones. She started speaking French, and I don't remember what she said, but I recognized what language it was. I then asked her, "Tu parles Francais?" (You speak French?), and then said "Bien sûr tu parles Francais." (Of course you speak French). It was very short and simple, but it was in my subconscious! 

Rain, Education Rants, and the Spa

I love rain. I always have. I love the way it sounds, smells, looks, and makes everything new afterwards. I constantly miss the rain during the year in Minneapolis, and it rains collectively for maybe an hour from August to May. It's all SNOW. Anyways, it has rained heavily here since the end of last week. In this region, you always need to have your umbrella on you because you can leave the house with blue skies and by the time you get to the bus stop it can be pouring. As I write this it is coming down really hard, and I can see perfectly blue sky in the distance. The individual clouds really dictate the weather more.

This intense rain hasn't been too bad of a problem accept the fact that I have no idea what kind of shoes to wear in this mess. I feel like this is something you learn very early on in life, but somehow I must have missed something. Option 1: sandals. They suck because they get wet and then really hard to walk in because they slip everywhere. Option 2: Clothey shoeish things. They get soaking wet and dirty and DO NOT DRY. Option 3: rainboots. Ugly and you look like an idiot and I'm not sitting through three hours of class in those. Alas, I am left with flip flops, which don't match anything. It's a desperate situation. Methinks sandals are the lesser of the many evils.

Rain also means staying in more. Sunday I barely moved from my bed. This was actually enjoyable because by the end of the week I really am ready to drop dead. I've gotten into a good book, which makes life instantly better, and I am back to my The Office addiction, which I cannot help but love to revel in. Rain also means friends are reluctant to venture downtown, which is closer to me, and rightfully so. Transportation in this town is decent but very often annoying. Many of the bus lines stop after 8:30 pm and don't even run on Sundays. This leaves biking (impossible in the rain) and taxis (expensive).

With the start of a new week at school, we got our tests back from last week. I did well, but my main downfall is making stupid mistakes. This never fails to make me angry, and I would much rather make huge detrimental mistakes about something I don't know that little stupid ones about things I do know. I always have and probably always will be too hard on myself when it comes to academics, and when a rare something actually happens to be challenging, it tends to illicit anger. I want to be better at French. I want to understand people better and actually be able to communicate. Accepting my inferiority in this certain category is difficult. Language is something I never remember struggling with. I don't actually remember learning to read or write, it kind of just came out of me. Language is me. It's everything I love and am passionate about and try to pursue. Sitting silent at the dinner table because I'm trying desperately to pick words that I can recognize out of the spew of French coming at me is not my ideal pastime. I love to argue, discuss, and (of course) add my opinion to what is happening. I can't do this when I have no idea what to say. This, however, is good. I am usually quick to speak and slow to listen, and it has been something that I want to work on. I always remember something my best friend told me once: a real conversation consists of two people who, while listening to each other, are not thinking about what they will say next or a point that they have. They are only listening.

So far I do believe that my listening comprehension has improved the most, but that's the easy part. The hard part is taking what you hear, synthesizing, and evaluating. Oooo, fancy teacher terms! Thus begins my daily rant about the education I am experiencing. Let's hope this is somewhat short.

College in France, or least all that I have experienced, is strange. We are following a textbook (thank God), but the day usually consists of many random mini lessons that have little to no connection. We are just beginning, and there is so very much for us to learn, but I find it extremely challenging to just go over things when they come up instead of doing a legit lesson with practice and homework to enforce it. I really didn't expect to have this kind of reaction, and though it partly means I have been learning in the past three years, it is not doing me any good now. We jump from adjectives to articles, to talking about imperfect tense for two seconds without her even having taught it. There are vague units with different sets of vocabulary and verbs (which are utterly my downfall), but I am in desperate need of a lesson that lasts at least 20 minutes with some direct instruction, modeling, and both guided and independent practice. There's some more teacher terms for you. It's a new system and a lesson in flexibility, and in all honesty I'm sure it's eons better than the language learning system in the States. It's just that the raving English teacher inside me twitches with every abrupt transition and lack of anticipatory sets. She scares me sometimes. She has been somewhat silenced by the fact that I bought Harry Potter in French. Nearly impossible to read, but I do understand some things, and I am super interested that there apparently is a verb tense that is only used in literature. The sooner I get aquatinted with this, the better.

Today we went to the Spa, which was technically a huge pool. French people don't really go to water parks, so this was kind of like a big water park for old boring people. It was super relaxing though. Here are some images from their site.

It was actually raining while we were in the pool, which was pretty nice because we had just gotten out of the sauna. It was fun to swim. 

My shoes were soaking wet since before I got on the bus this morning, and they are still very, very cold. This shoe situation was almost resolved at the grocery store today, where I found a pair of converse-ish rainboots. They didn't fit. Prayers against trench-foot would be greatly appreciated.  

Lazy Saturday

I thoroughly enjoyed sleeping in today, even though I woke up to much noise from my host family and constantly fighting neighbors. My host mom had told me that they would be gone all day, so when I woke up I migrated to the kitchen and settled at the table with a bowl of cereal and my journal in my not so decent pajamas. Low and behold, I hear the key in the door and they come expectedly waltzing back in to find me in the kitchen, frantically wrapping my sweater around myself and cleaning up the cereal mess I'd made. It was awkward.

After retreating to my chambers, I worked on my blog (which looks lovely as I'm sure you've noticed) and read. It was nice to relax, but then I got bored, so I ventured out to take a walk in the rain.

An ideal exploring outfit and facial expression.

Basically every random street here is adorable. 

Pride and Post Offices

I'm just going to say it: I'm scared poopless to speak French to the French. I'm usually so scared that I end up messing up and sounding even more stupid than I actually am. I wasn't really able to get over this for awhile, and it was really frustrating. I didn't want to drag my friends who spoke French better than I do to every errand that I needed to do. I detest being heavily dependent on others, and a huge fist of dependence, helplessness, frustration, and humiliation repeatedly kept punching me in the face. It was only until I cared more about what I was doing than how I appeared to a French person that I was able to conquer this weird position I had put myself in.

I still really haven't wrapped my mind around the fact that I am the foreigner here. People don't speak French to be cool or seem a certain way, it's their version of normal. Being picked up and plopped into someone else's normal is always strange. I feel almost apologetic for being an American and botching the heck out of their beautiful language, but at the same time I don't want them to think I am completely stupid. I always want to know what I'm doing, seem like I have it together, and not be out of the loop in any way. This is literally impossible here. I never know what I'm doing, I never have it together, and I am almost always out of the loop. Things have definitely gotten better. I can ride the bus, order from a menu (kind of), and shop, but there's always the possibility of something happening or someone saying something and me not knowing how to react. Being this vulnerable is the complete opposite of clinging to my warped sense of pride in knowing how to function well in America. We can't hold onto pride and learn. We cling to it, but it only holds us back.

I had run into some money issues leaving me without cash and only a credit card. Bad plan. If you're going to Europe, always have cash. After lots of running around and talking to many rude and not helpful French people, I didn't care what they thought as long as I got my dang money. I went to the post office by myself and was shaking as I filled out my Western Union form, but I did it. The people there were really nice and started speaking English when they heard my accent, but not everyone will even do that. All I can think is that I'm not going to be afraid to do anything in America now, where I can actually speak the language. My confidence has definitely been boosted, even though I know that I completely suck at French.

Another random observation: the literal translation doesn't matter, the message does. You try to translate literally and you're going to get yourself into a mess because that's just not how it works. There are so many things that I'm learning that can technically be dissected into parts that can be literally translated, but meanings are changed and messed up when one tries to do that.

Un Bon Week-End

My first actual weekend in France was great but completely exhausting. 

Friday night my host mom took me to a musical festival that was going on right by our apartment called Hestival. They had a band that was very popular in the 80s in France and they were dressed up like Elvis. They played French, Spanish, and American songs, and it was really fun to people watch. I've noticed that if the French like something, they are very, very passionate about it. I even saw this at the orchestra. It's a cool concept and I really enjoy observing it. People were dancing and there were some drunk hippie hobos reeking havoc on the crowd. Très amusant. One guy was like 40, had dreads down to his butt, and got scolded by a lady when he tried to pick up her dog. The second band was a country band from here. It was really strange to here a dude sing English country music with a French accent and it was probably the weirdest musical experience I've ever had. 

Saturday we left early on the bus for the Basque country. We first stopped at Bayonne where we got a short tour of their beautiful cathedral.

I loved these huge paintings.

We were then turned loose to explore and shop. Their main shopping street had like five different chocolate shops in a row. We had lunch at Le Victor Hugo restaurant, which was completely delicious. 

Chicken with rice and tomato and pepper sauce, traditional Basque cake with almond filling (amazing!), and a pistachio chocolate from one of the shops. After lunch we got on the bus and headed to Barritz. We visited the beach, which was absolutely beautiful. The water wasn't even that cold, and I would have swam if I had brought my suite. The waves were really big though. We walked around, went to a few cafes and took pictures. 

We were sitting at one of the cafes and this adorable baby girl kept waddling over to use and smiling. We also saw some really cute dogs, as usual. For anyone who doesn't know, almost everyone has a dog here. They're allowed in some stores, cafes, and restaurants because they are so well trained. Owners walk them without leashes more than with them, and the dogs simply follow. It's crazy how well behaved they are! 

Sunday was La fête des Mères (Mother's Day), and we went to Le Sud, a restaurant in Pau with my host mom, brother, and grandfather. My host mom asked me how to use Instagram and has started taking pictures of her food too. Here are some of her shots:

This was her starter (I didn't have the same) of some kind of asparagus dish with mushroom sauce. The entree I had was a kind of red fish on toasted bread with a crushed olive paste. It was one of the best things I've ever tasted. 

Our entree of stuffed guinea fowl. It had tomatoes and other vegetables inside. The brownish thing at the top left was a kind of potato patty with a cherry tomato on top stuffed with the same olive paste. The yellow decorative piece was some kind of fried cheese. 

This beautiful dessert is lime and basil sorbet with strawberries. I had a different dish of chocolate mouse with orange. Also delightful. 

I ate extremely well on Sunday because after this lunch, we went to Au Fruit Défondu in Pau for my wonderful friend Liz's birthday. My only previous experiences of fondu had been cheese and chocolate, and not cooking meat in oil, which was so, so good. I had beef and duck, which I must say I absolutely love. 

The hot oil was a little scary to use, but it was worth it. The owner was extremely nice and outgoing, and we had a lot of fun with her. I am always jealous of my friends' ability to speak such wonderful French when we go out to eat. It was a very fun and memorable night. I woke up this morning still full from such a big day of food. I have found that I really, really love French food. It is so creative and has many mixtures of flavors, which I really like. It takes into account the physical look as well as how the food will mix with drinks and other courses. It really is an art form, and I'm enjoying learning about it. My friend Christopher was very excited last night to be able to name exactly what flavor was used in the Creme Catalan (similar to Creme Brule), and it was Bergamot, which is apparently also used to flavor Earl Grey tea. I think it's very cool that such things can be used in so many ways. 

Ups and Downs

I wrote this yesterday and I don't feel like going through everything and changing it to past tense: 

Today in class we had a substitute teacher. Her name was Cecile and she was a sixty year old, extremely petite, crazyface. She spoke barely any English and was still able to teach us. That still fascinates me. She acted everything out very elaborately and was overall hilarious. Class was actually extremely easy for me today almost to the point of boredom, and I think things are really starting to click. I'm able to say some things without thinking, and my favorite word has somehow become ouais, pronounced 'way' and meaning 'yeah'. After class and lunch, we went downtown to go to H&M, and a lady walked up to us advertising something forFête des Mères (Mother's Day, which is on Sunday here), and after she stopped talking extremely fast, I automatically said, "Non, merci" to which she answered "D'accord,"meaning 'okay'. It was definitely something small, but I think it was the first time I've spoken to a French person with confidence. My friend complimented me for thinking on my feet, and it surprised me. It's so funny when you don't even realize you cross a threshold of progress. I have definitely hit the phase where I am comfortable enough with my routine and with my surroundings to absolutely fall in love with France. 

Today couldn't be more opposite. After a weird and awkward misunderstanding with my host mom last night(over texting, no less), the tension was heightened even more when I made her late for work because I missed the bus. The bus was early for the first time ever, and I was like 20 feet away from the stop when I saw it fly past me. I honestly don't think I hate anything more than making stupid mistakes that affect other people and that are unfixable. There was nothing that could be done, and I felt horrible for the duration of class, in which I performed terribly. I just beat myself up so much when I can't do certain things or I make really stupid mistakes. I came home and took a nap, hoping to get somewhat of a restart. I planned to go to the bank to exchange my traveler's checks because I am out of cash, but when I was practicing what I needed to say, I realized I didn't have time to walk there before it closed at 5. And it's not open until Monday. Therefore, I am cashless for the weekend, which really, really sucks. Lessons learned today: always be at least 5 minutes early for the bus and the banks close at 5 and are not open all weekend. I think I'll go take a walk to shake off this frustration. I have to remind myself that God's doing something when everything goes wrong. Tomorrow we are going to Bayonne, so it should be a good time. Here are some pictures from my recent walks.