Chapter 2- Eating In Marseille

Food.
*sigh*
The blessing and the cursing of food.
When I was a single person I kind of prided myself on my cooking skills. We had lived in many different places in my growing up years and I’d had a lot of exposure to many types of food. My Mom was always good about bringing whatever culture we lived in into our home, and that included the food. And then in college, well, you know how we girls were always trying to impress potential future husbands with our cooking skills. I did that too. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn’t.
After being married to Doug for some time, when the newness had started wearing off, I noticed this thing he did. It was usually a very subtle thing; a little pause, or a slight turn of the mouth, when he’d eat something I’d made for a meal. Sometimes he’d offer a “suggestion”, maybe I could add some of this or some of that. And truth be known? In my mind I was beginning to think: How dare you not like my cooking? All the other guys did! I started confronting him about what I perceived to be his criticisms, and looking back on it I can see that he meant no harm and was sort of baffled by my reactions. He’d try to tell me about some dish or another in France and blah-blah-blah. I didn’t pay any more attention to whatever he said. I just thought, “Phooey. You’re being a food snob.” And the outcome of this happening for years? I kind of quit cooking. “You don’t like my cooking? Okay then. You do the cooking.”
We both could have done things differently!
But guess what? NOW I GET IT!!!
Oh boy, do I get it.
Let's start with the water...
This is really what they drink, and not to be cool!

Actually, what they really drink is wine. We were pretty much the only people at restaurants and cafes who were drinking water.
While in Marseille, Doug's desire was to eat Bouillabaisse, which was invented in Marseille. He was a brave man, he was indeed.
I thought it tasted just a little bit too fishy, kind of like all the extra fish parts and pieces left-over in the kitchen were used to make the soup. I think there are many variations of the theme, and we had one of them.
As for me, well, I wanted to be in on all the food adventures so I ordered something that was "of the region". I could decipher that from the menu. You know, I was sitting by the Mediterranean Sea, I wanted the experience.
My plate came, beautifully arranged, and I gasped!

I couldn't eat the whelks! I used to collect these shells in Panama, how could I eat one of the inhabitants? So I didn't. Or a mussel, for that matter.
But Doug did. He said that the whelk was a little bit too rubbery...
But everything else was really good.
And you know, this first meal was my introduction to the never-ending supply of bread, which I won't ever be able to say enough about.
I could get annoying talking about the bread...
Our next day was spent in Aix en Provence (because of a movie I love) (and a desire to get some Provencal fabric). What a beautiful city! I do want to spend more time there, we barely scratched the surface. And we actually never ate a meal because we were on the move so much. We bought bread, Ahhhh, bread. And some pastries.
(And some fabric. And a market basket. And some lavendar, and soap, and sachets.)
Our last night in Marseille we decided on a little place that made crepes and omelettes.
Our server was a fun guy who tried out his English on us. He is from the island of Corsica. He talked with us for quite some time and told us about the Mistral winds (yeah, think "Heart" from the 80's) being responsible for the lack of bugs, when I questioned him about that, and other miscellaneous things. He was a pleasant fellow. And the food we ate was very tasty,
and I forgot to take a picture of dessert. Hummm...what did we have for dessert? I'll ask Doug. He never forgets a meal.
It was also about midnight at this point, and an eating pattern was starting to develop: late and long meals.

My introduction to French food was off to a very good start.
My remorse for what Doug was missing and had been trying to explain to me was complete.
3 comments:
Remember how upset you were with me when I said our mom really wasn't that great of a cook? Even mom agreed. Now you understand! Not that you guys were bad, (well, I always got a headache over burned sunday roast and potatos and it was years before Mom admitted she burned it on purpose because she LIKEs it that way...I always thought were were late getting home from church. Anyway, when you have a passel of kids, you're not likely going to be thinking of anything other than getting a meal on the table so don't be too remorseful. Now you know and now you can have some real fun in the kitchen! Oh, and mom does make the best home-made tacos, I think we can all agree.
PS I think I need to find something delicious to eat after that glowing report and views of the meals.
Shaun, this is a delightful post about the food. We went to a restaurant near le Sacre Coeur and I have to admit I could not get behind the muscles either. Or the Escargot!
It must have been so fun to be there just with Doug and enjoying the things about his mission you had heard about for so long.
I am enjoying your retelling of your thoughts and impressions of France very much!
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