Brine disaster

Thanksgiving "eve".  It's off to the market I go to pick up my turkey.  My city is preparing to host it's Christmas Market (which starts on Friday) and my "normal" market place is now filled with about 100 vendor stalls.  That means that I have to truck another 6 blocks to Place Kleber.  (Which is where the Christmas tree is located)  Have I mentioned that it's  26 degrees and a light layer of snow is on the ground?  Oh joy.

I made it to the new market location and had to wander around to find the butcher.  Luckily, I found Christine and she had my turkey all ready for me.  Fortunately, it seemed on the small side and fit into my "granny roller grocery cart".  Off we went through all the people starting to arrive for Christmas market.  Strasbourg has about 400 thousand residents and during the next 4 weeks it will host over 6 MILLION visitors….color me happy.

I got to the apartment and "weighed" my turkey….yep, the old fashioned way.  I step on the scale to get my body weight….I cannot eat anything for the next 4 years based on that number, then do it again holding the turkey and do the math.  My "baby" bird weighs in at just under 9 lbs and DOES fit into my "easy bake oven".  (Thanks for that visual Scott Swan)

I have only cooked a turkey once.  I am trying to go "all out" here, so decided to try to brine my turkey. Did I mention that I first had to do some  "de-feathering"?  Butterball, where are you???

 I start to assemble the brine.  It called for 2 gallons of water, 3 cups of apple juice, 3 orange peels, 1 1/2 cups of salt, 2 cups of brown sugar and various other spices.  The only thing that I had that could hold all that liquid was the turkey roasting pan.  Doesn't it look beautiful?

I had to bring it to a boil and then allow it to cool, completely.  Turn on the stove top and guess what???  My turkey roaster does NOT have a metallic bottom and my induction stove top won't heat it!!!  So, I had to use my stock pot and transfer liquid back and forth until the whole darn batch was at a "boil".  SO many words were floating through my head…..none came out.  Sorry Lord!

After the batch had boiled I then had to try to fit it into my mini-fridge….not happening.  What is a girl to do??  Well, THIS girl covered it tightly with aluminum foil and stuck it outside my window in our gutter to cool.  Not easy, by the way.  The stinking thing was heavy and only had about 2 inches of clear space before it would slosh over the side.

A quick trip to the grocery to pick up some fresh parsley for the stuffing and some more crème entière (heavy cream) to make fresh whipped cream for the pumpkin pie and my other Thanksgiving favorite, sweet potatoes.  Did you know that they are a fruit?  Neither did I.  However, in the French grocery that's where you have to find them while doing the "self check-out".  I had tried 3 different times to go through the vegetable "légumes" screen and under the potato "pomme de terre" section it only gave me white and red potatoes.  Someone smart must watch the self check out area because every time I tried to use one of those two codes it gave me an error message (in French).

Now, at the American grocery store, the NEXT person in line stays back a reasonable distance until one of the stations is vacated.  At the FRENCH grocery store they stand nearly against you and you can feel their breath moving your hair.  Needless to say, that didn't make this a joyous experience.  Finally the employee in charge of the "self-checkout" had mercy on me and came over.  She tried to explain to me that I had to "wait to put my vegetables on the scanner" until after I had selected the "no bar code" button.

I wanted to say, Lady, I may be an American, but I'm not STUPID.  Good thing for her that my French is not that good yet.  I was able to tell her that I couldn't find the "sweet potato" code.  Where did she go to find it??  Under the FRUIT screen.  Yep, there they were, big as life.  I actually had a moment where I thought maybe I was crazy and that sweet potatoes WERE a fruit.  Believe me, when I got home I googled it.  Sweet potatoes are a VEGETABLE…..except in France.

Once I was back the brine was cooled and I was ready to get the 16 hours of brining started. I had picked up some "baking bags" at the beginning of the week.  That's what I figured would work for the "brining bag".  The Pioneer Woman suggested placing the bird in a bowl to keep it stable.  I'm ALL for stability.  I got my bird inside the bag, put the bag inside my bowl and started to pour the brine inside the bag.  I was about 3/4 of the way to the top and noticed that the bowl was filling with liquid.  SHOOT!  The bag must've had a leak!!

What should I do?  Let the bowl fill up and overflow??  No way.  My roasting pan was on the counter next to the bowl and so I decided to lift the bird (in the bag) out of the bowl and put it into the roasting pan, then I could get a new bag and start over.  Well, that was a really bad idea.  As soon as I lifted the bag high enough to "clear the liquid level" in the bowl the bag completely ripped apart.  It dropped my 9 lb baby bird and nearly 2 gallons of the brine back into the bowl….well sort of.  It dropped the TURKEY back into the bowl.  The two gallons of liquid exploded all over the countertop and started spreading out onto the stove top and sink and FLOOR!!!  Oh, yeah, it had also managed to not only drench my clothes, but actually wound up in my hair.

Yep, that looks like a disaster, doesn't it?  My socks were soaking wet and I wasn't exactly sure where to start….I decided that I would have to salvage as much of the brine as I could (I wasn't going through step 1 again!) and managed to clean up the counter top as I sloshed around in my bare feet across a tile floor that was filled with an apple juice/brown sugar syrup.  It had seep under the baseboard of the sink….not to mention drain down the dishwasher, the oven and into the drawers.  45 minutes later and I was ready to start again.  This time I DOUBLE BAGGED the stinkin' bird.  There was a leak the second time also, but quite frankly I didn't give a rip.

Now I was ready to prepare the corn bread for my stuffing.  It's a "skillet corn bread" that starts on the stove top and finishes in the oven.  The stove top section was finished and guess wouldn't fit into the easy bake oven?  Yep, my skillet!!  I managed to rig it so that I could force the oven door to close….no one needs a level corn bread for stuffing, do they?

Did I mention that while in the middle of theses fiascos that my dear sweet mother tried to FaceTime me….sorry Mom, if I touch electronics while standing in liquid I might fry, and my daughter called to tell me that my car battery was so dead that they couldn't use the jumper cables to start it, oh yeah, that happened.

I took a quick shower to get the "sticky" off and get dry clothes on and then started the pie.  I love pumpkin pie.  No one else does, but who cares?  If I'm doing the cooking, then by golly my favorites are gonna be on the dinner table.  Was just about to pour the pie filling into my pie crust and  I decided to take a little taste….oops, somewhere in the middle of all that chaos I had forgotten to add the sugar.  Disaster averted.  Praise the Lord!!

David called to say that he would be home in about 15 minutes.  (That was just as I was putting my newly sugared pumpkin pie in the oven)  Apparently, I didn't sound overly joyed to hear that…or at least that was his take based on the tone of my voice.  After he arrived home, as I shouted….DONT GO INTO THE KITCHEN!! and then explained what my afternoon was like he said, "let's go out for dinner".  I love that man!!

Wishing you all a less chaotic Thanksgiving day.  I pray that you are surrounded by your loved ones.  Let's face it, the meal is secondary, it's the people that God has placed in your life that makes the day THANKSgiving.  Praising the Lord and my Saviour Jesus Christ for all of the many blessings bestowed upon me and my family.

Thanksgiving dinner shopping

So, I am lame.  I have never had to cook a Thanksgiving dinner all by myself.  As an unmarried woman, I had always gone to an Aunt's house on my Mom's side of the family.  As a married woman, I have always gone to my husband's family's house. (We negotiated the Thanksgiving/Christmas holiday split before we said our vows)  I've only ONCE in my lifetime actually cooked a turkey on my own.

Now, I'm not so totally lame that I don't cook and bring something to add to the dinner each year, so wipe that ugly look off your face if you are the house that hosts YOUR family every year.  Let me also add that David and I are usually the first ones to start the clean up AFTER the feast AND we/he always make the Turkey salad for the "snack" later in the night. There, I feel better.

This Thanksgiving will be my first without any family.  Insert sad face emoji.  Both of my younger  kids will be spending their Thanksgiving with a friend and Joseph will be eating with his Dad.  Do you hear the violins playing in your head??  Not only will I be missing the dinner and fellowship of family on Thanksgiving day, but I will also for the first time in more than 30 years I will miss the DAY AFTER THANKSGIVING SHOPPING!!

Yes, I am one of those crazy people who leave the house before 5AM to hit the sales.  I'm sure that I could share many stories that might make you laugh. I am also sure that my sisters-in law and mother-in-law would be happy to share stories that I'd rather not be heard.

Back to Thanksgiving dinner shopping.  As I've said, I've never been responsible for making the meal before.  I have made many of the side dishes and even the pies to take, just not the whole shebang.  I at least knew enough to order a turkey from my market butcher.  You can't just walk into the grocery store here and pick up a frozen turkey, nor can you pull out a FROZEN turkey the day of Thanksgiving and produce a meal.

So, I have a turkey coming next Wednesday.  That is a story all by itself.  I had to learn the french words that would allow me to do that.  A turkey is "dinde"….it sounds more like "dahnd" when you pronounce it.  Anyway, I got my message across, she took out her calendar and wrote my name down….on the 29th.  Not until I got home to put it on the calendar did I notice the problem.  The 29th is FRIDAY.  So, I had to go back the next Wednesday and again "learn the french words" to let her know that was the wrong date.  (The French don't celebrate Thanksgiving, so they have no idea)

Now, I have NO IDEA how much my turkey is going to weigh.  She simply asked me how many people I was serving and hopefully, she heard "6" and not "16" or "60".  Yes, I said "6".  You see, we will be overjoyed to be hosting Sarah's sorority sister MARY and a friend for dinner.  Mary is studying abroad in London this semester and she is going to come for a visit.  YAY a THETA in da house.

Sarah and Mary outside the Theta house in Bloomington

I have been shopping almost daily for the Thanksgiving "fixins".  Unfortunately, my "fixins" and French "fixins" are not compatible.  I have chosen several recipes to make and then go to the store and can't find the ingredients.  Here are just a few that have been discarded:  Broccoli-Wild Rice casserole (no wild rice in France), Broccoli-Cauliflower casserole (no velveeta OR French's fried onions in France),  Creamed-Corn souflee (no creamed corn in France) and so on. I did have the foresight to bring my own pumpkin….they don't have canned pumpkin here either!!  So, what is a girl to do?

The other difficulty is my oven.  It's more like my TOASTER OVEN back in Indy.  The inside dimensions are only 17" wide by 10" high.  Yes folks, a 13x9" pan barely fits on the shelf.  Like I mentioned earlier, I hope that my butcher heard 6 people.  If my turkey doesn't fit into my oven, you will hear a scream from across the pond for sure.

So, I will bake my turkey in my tiny little oven and then somehow make the side dishes that the French grocery stores will accommodate.  I am happy to report that although I was unable to locate canned yams, I found the real patates douces (imported from Israel).  Just as an aside, potatoes in french are called "pommes de terre" or "earth apples", so why are "sweet potatoes" not called "pommes de terre douces"??

I have been on a quest since my arrival to find "brown sugar".  Cannot make sweet potatoes, chocolate chip cookies, apple pie or caramel apple sweet rolls without it.  This is my "assortment" so far…..

None are as good as "domino", but I think that the two on the left will suffice.  The other 3 (plus the ones that I actually threw away) I use for my tea.

That's all for today folks.  Gotta get in the car and go pick up the hubby.  Just finished making a new dish….Spicy Whiskey BBQ sliders (thank you Ree Drumond aka Pioneer Woman), I'm not sure that I will make it to the car without eating one!!

Have a blessed day and be sure that you let your family know that you are THANKFUL to have them. 

A la mañana, demain or tomorrow?

David and I recently spent 5 days in Madrid, Spain.  He was working and I was fortunate enough to tag along and play.  If you are reading this and English is your first (and maybe only) language you might not appreciate the nuances of communicating in Europe.  (Yes, I know that I keep bringing this up…but it really does present a challenge)

When you are forced to communicate in a "2nd" or even "3rd" language, your brain scrambles.  I do not know how business people can work all day in another language without their heads exploding.  Your brain knows that it isn't supposed to feed you the English word, but often will feed you the word of the most recent language you've been speaking.

The title of today's blog comes directly from a taxi ride conversation.  We were trying to ask our taxi driver what the traffic would be like "tomorrow".  We had already asked him if he spoke English and he responded "un poco" (a little in Spanish).  David used the French word (demain) and the driver had no idea.  Thanks to my HS Spanish teacher, Señora Duchin, I was able to offer the correct phrase in Spanish (a la mañana).

Don't give me too much credit.  I had also in the same taxi ride used the phrase "merci beaucoup" and "oui" to respond to the driver.  Habla/parle/speak, cuánto/combien/how much, sí/oui/yes……you get the idea.  Fortunately, you can usually tell by the person's reaction to what you've said if you have gone off the deep end.  Just know, that our entire week was one of mixed language phrases and neither David or I could help it.

Like most of my foreign travel excursions, I try to find a tour of the city/country that I am visiting.  Most of the larger cities will have a hop-on/hop-off bus.  Madrid had one and the pick up location was about 6 blocks from our hotel.  I was able to get both the "lay of the land" and quite a lot of historical information.

Following my afternoon on the bus, I went to Santiago Bernabéu Stadium to buy tickets to see Real Madrid play soccer on Saturday.

We were eager to see a live European "football" match and called DJ to let him know we had gotten tickets. DJ was concerned that we were going to go to "El Classico" without him….which is the match between Real Madrid and FC Barcelona.  Luckily, that wasn't held during this week…the tickets for that match sold out in the same fashion as Final Four/Superbowl tickets.  The cost was also on par with the American rivalry games…upwards of $3,000 for good seats.

Saturday was a busy day for us.  We changed hotels in the morning, we explored the Retiro Park most of the afternoon, went to the soccer game (via the Metro) and ate at the oldest restaurant in the world….La Botin.

You might need a little background on La Botin.  David had been eagerly anticipating his meal here for several weeks.  They are famous for their roasted meats.  David's favorite….roasted suckling pig.  As we were shown to our table I was able to snap a photo of the kitchen/oven area….

Yes, those are little piggies getting ready to be placed into a cast iron wood burning oven that has been in use since 1725.  Our meal was delicious…I couldn't do the pig, I settled for a phenomenal filet mignon. La Botin is in the Guinness Book of World Records if you want to read more.

Sunday was a marathon day as well.  We started our day at the street market. "The Rastro" is said to the the oldest flea market in Europe and has over 3500 different vendors.

How do you like my new stole??

People EVERYWHERE!!  David was in awe.

After we left The Rastro, we walked all over the city so that David could check out some of the landmarks.  We went to the Royal Palace

Puerto del Sol, Plaza Mayor and many more. It was about 1:00 and we decided to eat tapas for lunch.

After lunch we did some window shopping on the Gran Vía.  I was able to get a Starbucks hot chocolate, so I was in HEAVEN.  Off to Retiro Park to enjoy the sunshine.  It was a beautiful day with lots of sunshine and nearly 70 degrees.

As we wandered to the park I began in earnest to look for a public restroom.  I even commented to David that I hadn't seen a sign for a public restroom during the entire week.  Retiro Park is over 350 acres (roughly half the size of Central Park in NY) and sits in the middle of the city.

We walked around for about 15 minutes without seeing any sign of a bathroom.  We finally spotted a small "concession/restaurant" stand and went in.  No bathroom!  We asked where we could find one and the employee told us "the Western pavilion" and pointed in the direction we should go.  Well, another 20 minutes later and we were at one of the many exit/entrance gates to the Park.  I was starting to panic.  

We turned around and headed back to a "fork" in the path to see what we could find.  A building!!  Shimmering like an oasis in the midst of trees, shrubbery and fountains….but alas, not a bathroom.  By this point I was going to die.  There were very few people in that area….and so I picked a spot.  Yep, I was going to pee in public right in the middle of a Madrid park.  David was horrified, but I couldn't wait another minute….well, I probably could've waited a minute, but there wasn't a bathroom on my horizon.

Wouldn't you know, as soon as my bare butt was exposed a man started to walk in our direction.  While my husband was kindly "protecting me" from view, he was doing so by facing me….you can imagine what the guy must've thought was going on.

Oh, sweet relief.  We were now headed back to the area that had the large boating pond.  As we were nearing the pond I spotted another "concession/restaurant" building.  Now that I had made room, I wanted a bottle of water.  David ordered us a drink and then asked the worker where we could find a restroom.  The employee pointed to the end of the counter….we looked outside, nothing.  David asked again, and the guy pointed to the end of the counter….there were STEPS leading down to a bathroom!!!  My husband started laughing and said, "sorry, T, but I gotta go".  Can you believe that?  We laughed about it the rest of the day.  

We got up early on Monday and headed out to visit the Prado Museum.

 I have decided that I would prefer to go to a sporting event than spends 3 hours in a museum looking at paintings.  I know, that makes me uncultured, but hey, it's who I am.  I was very disturbed by paintings by the artist Goya….he must've been a very psychotic man.

We left Madrid tackling most of the "top 10" things to do.  We didn't get to see a bullfight, but hope to do that when the kids come to visit next summer. 

I know that I've shared "luggage" stories before, but I have another one for you.  I like to carry a Vera Bradley bag when we travel….especially, if I'm going to go through customs.  It's big and it's LOUD and I can ALWAYS spot it without difficulty.  Most of the bags that you will see on the luggage conveyor will be black….I would sooner shoot myself than try to figure out which black bag belonged to me.  Well, Vera saved us.  While we were in the Strasbourg airport waiting on our luggage (at the correct baggage conveyor) I looked over my shoulder and guess what I spotted?  Yep, our two bags.  They were on the wrong belt.  I'm not sure how that happened, but I was sure to remind David that being UNIQUE has it's advantages.

God made you UNIQUE, don't conform to this world, be TRANSFORMED.  Romans 12:2 

Indiana girls' visit comes to an end

Wednesday…Two little girls slept in and drank LOTS of coffee.  This little girl got up early and headed out to buy mushrooms for dinner.  (The recipe that I use calls for the mushrooms to cook for 9 hours, no I'm not kidding.)  Once back at the apartment Marcie and I set about getting the mushrooms cleaned.

We had them all ready to go and that's when I noticed a problem.  Let me back up to last night.  As we were driving back to the apartment I asked my SWEET husband what he had for dinner (Tuesday night).  He said a salami sandwich.  I said really?  That's lame.  He didn't respond.  When we got back into the apartment I went into the kitchen and it was a little messy….David isn't really bothered by dirt/crumbs, he is only bothered by clutter.  I wiped down the table and counter and then opened the freezer to get some ice.  There was a hamburger patty inside a tupperware container in the freezer that caught my eye….hmmmmm.  Didn't think anything more about it UNTIL I tried to start my mushrooms.

We have an induction cooktop and it was locked. Locked = no heat.  It has happened to me once before and I couldn't remember how to "unlock" it so that I could turn it on.  I pulled out the owner's manual and found the directions.  I followed the steps in the booklet to no avail.  I followed the steps 4 more times before I nearly screamed and left the kitchen.  Marcie was sweet enough to try to turn it on and followed the steps while I was in the laundry room turning off the STINKING alarm on the dryer. Who's idea was it to put alarms on washers and dryers? I DO NOT need reminding that there is laundry to finish.

Now it was obvious….the reason my husband had a salami sandwich and that there was a frozen hamburger patty in a piece of tupperware in my freezer was because he somehow had locked the STINKING cooktop  Tuesday night and couldn't unlock it.

FINALLY, after NOT following the printed directions I was able to unlock the cooktop and turn on the burner to start the mushrooms.  Whew….I had nearly lost my salvation on that one.  (Not possible, but you know what I mean)

Off to the market.  I cautioned Marcie before we even turned the corner….let's get the meat and the vegetables first and THEN you can go crazy looking at everything.  That advice lasted all of 23 seconds.  She stopped at the first stand to take pictures, she stopped at the second stand to look at the baked goods, she started to stop at the third stand and then said, "oh, this is what you meant by 'let's get the meat and vegetables first' isn't it?".  It was hard, but she did it.  It is an overwhelming experience the first time you are in a market that offers so many things.

We successfully purchased a tenderloin roast (un filet de boeuf) and some chicken breasts from my favorite butcher and then headed to the produce stand.  (Yes, this is the same one I always go to and the owner speaks English) Lettuce, passion fruit, fingerling potatoes, tomatoes, apples, pineapple and cucumber.  What a haul.  I headed back to the apartment to put the groceries away and let the girls "loose" in the market.

David was taking a half day of vacation and was actually home when I walked in the door.  He headed to get a hair cut, to pick up some bread from the gas station and was going to go for a run.  He promised to catch up with us later in the afternoon.

By the time I walked back over to the market the girls were on their way to find me….they had run out of cash!!  Lisa had scored some Christmas gifts and a new coat.  We discussed what we wanted for lunch and headed over toward the center of town….I know where they serve a delicious nutella milkshake and it happens to be next door to my favorite cheese shop.  We stopped at the bank to withdraw some Euros from the ATM.  DISASTER struck.  I wasn't really paying much attention to what the ATM screen was telling me, I was with my American sisters and we were speaking ENGLISH….I had put in 355 as a withdraw amount (so that I would get some small bills) and it gave me an error message.  I had to re-enter my pin and change the amount….suddenly, the machine gave me the ultimate ERROR message…..I had entered the wrong pin 3 times and it was RETAINING MY CARD!!!  CRAP!  I was so "in Indiana" in my brain that I had used my US pin, not my FRANCE pin.

Inside the bank we went.  The very sweet bank employee explained to me that she couldn't get my card out of the machine until tomorrow….then she went on to tell me that I could come back tomorrow and pick up my card but that it wouldn't work.  They would need to issue me a NEW card with a NEW pin.  "How long will that take', I asked.  'Sometime late next week', she replied.  DOUBLE CRAP, I was leaving for Madrid on Wednesday.  No credit card and very little cash until my husband met us….Marcie used her card to get a cash advance and saved the day.

The cheese shop was closed but the cafe with the Nutella milkshake was open.  Lisa and I ordered a quiche Lorraine and Marcie ordered a sandwich.  David called and headed our way to meet us.  He finished all of our lunch leftovers.

As we left the cafe I noticed a big white poodle coming toward us.  Lisa was in heaven!  We chatted with the owner (German lady) who was trying to explain that she was looking for a "stud" to breed her poodle.  Lisa explained that George was not capable.  The husband handed Lisa a huge piece of chicken liver to give to the dogs as a treat….I thought she was going to vomit.  No hand sanitizer!!

We walked through Strasbourg showing them Petit France and just enjoying the beautiful sunshine.

We made it back home and prepared a delicious dinner capped off with a ice cream/pineapple/passion fruit dessert.  The best part of the day was seeing our kid's faces….FaceTime is AWESOME.  I so enjoyed seeing Eric, Skib, Sam, Spencer and Sarah.

Thursday I drove David to work so that we would have the car.  The first order of business was to color my hair.  Did you know that Lisa could do that?  Fortunately, my wonderful friend and hairdresser in Indy (Julia) sent me here with the right ingredients to cover the grey…..

Our first stop was IKEA.  My personal decorator and hair colorist,  Lisa Hall, was on hot pursuit to bring my apartment into the POSH living space she had invisioned.  Unfortunately, David and I do not care so much about what our apartment looks like.  We compromised and she picked out some lovely additions for several rooms.

Next, we went into Germany to shop.  Lots of fun showing the girls the German grocery and we even ate lunch at McDonald's.  Lisa and Marcie picked up some Dominican cigars and a few other little trinkets and we headed back home.  We put together our IKEA purchases and then it was time to pick David up from basketball practice.  Driving in Europe in the dark without a specific address is fun….take my word for it.  Pizza from Gepetto's for dinner and a night full of laughter.

$15 table….gotta love IKEA

New tables, lamps and furniture arrangement…thanks Lisa

Friday was All Saints Day and nearly everything was closed.  We took a long walk to our local park L'Orangerie and also visited the small zoo that is inside the park.

We then stopped at what was quite possibly the only cafe that was open for lunch.  Marcie ordered a "salad" and was quite surprised when her plate was delivered….

After a round of naps, we headed out so that they could see the Cathedral.  To our surprise, several of the tourist shops were open and a few more items were purchased.

Lisa couldn't bear to leave anything behind….she wanted it all!

After a dinner of snacks the packing process began.  Each girl had brought me some goodies when they came, but each girl also bought quite a few goodies to take home.  Lisa had lots of "weight" available but not very much space and Marcie had lots of room in her bag but it was way over the 50lb limit.  They finally finagled enough to fit everything in so they were all set.  (CAUTION:  when you come to visit us, be sure to leave LOTS of room for souvenirs OR plan to leave LOTS of your personal belongings here in France.  The airlines will charge at least $100 for an additional bag)

We got up early for the drive to Frankfort.  It was a rainy day, so the gloomy weather matched my mood.  I couldn't believe that a week had flown by so quickly and that I was sending two of my besties back to the states.  We dropped them at the terminal, I helped them in with their bags and said a very tearful (but fast) goodbye.  I'm not sure if they were as sad as I was, but David was there to console me when I came back to the car.

David and I took the opportunity to visit Heidelberg, Germany on our way home.  It was a great distraction and helped me to enjoy what would have been a very sad afternoon.

I am ready for more visitors, so please book your reservations for Chez Sternasty as soon as possible!!

Indiana girls in Paris day two

After a restless night of "steak tartare revenge" we headed off to a delicious breakfast at the hotel.  Lisa was feeling better and Marcie was not taking "NO" for an answer on a French haircut for her.  They checked with the concierge and we headed across the street to check out the salon.

I asked if they spoke English and there was one stylist who could speak "un peu".  Lisa had been saying that she wanted something "French"….well, that was until she walked into the salon.  She kept trying to "tell the stylist" what she wanted (in terms that the FRENCH stylist couldn't understand) instead of just letting the scissors fly.

The stylist was talking back and forth with her co-workers trying to come up with the English word for what she wanted to say….finally, I suggested "helmet" and she beamed.  Lisa had purposely not allowed her Indy stylist to cut her hair so that it might be long enough for a French style….The stylist was right, she currently was sporting a helmet.

 I think that this pit stop was just what the doctor ordered for Lisa after her first l-o-n-g day in Paris.

Day 2 provided lots of shopping, again.  Champs Elysées is an enormous shopping avenue in Paris.  You can find everything from Louis Vuitton, Cartier, Tiffany, Lexus and Sephora to H&M and Abercrombie and Fitch.  You can't just "walk in" to A & F, you stand in line on the sidewalk and are let in only as people leave. The perk here is that they usually have male models as the "guards".  If you enjoy seeing half-naked men, then you'll want to visit in the summer….it was a bit too cold for no shirts at the end of October.

 

Lunch was "soup" at a cafe.  I use the term "soup" loosely.  I ordered French onion soup and it was delicious.  Marcie and Lisa ordered a vegetable soup….it was like pureed baby food.  Seriously, not a chunk of any vegetable. I think that they just threw everything into their food processor and then ladled it into a bowl. However, this was the first restaurant that offered us butter with our bread, so that made them both a little happier.

Today's funny story involved Marcie.  We had both packed a pair of black leggings/boots to wear.  I had a long black shirt and she had a "long" black sweater.  Well, after putting her sweater on, it was more like a belly shirt…you know, the ones that teenage girls wear so that everyone can see their tramp stamp or their pierced belly button?  Well, not really, but it definitely didn't cover her derriere.  Fortunately, she has a tiny hiney and still looked cute.  She was, however, very self conscious about it.  We made a stop at H&M and she bought a 15 Euro mini skirt.  Guess where she happen to put it on?  Yep, right in the middle of the sidewalk on Champs Elyseés.  I told her that her daughter, Elizabeth would be mortified. LESSON: Check "long sweaters" after putting them through the dryer.

Our time in Paris had come to a close.  Marcie and I had decided that we were going to make one last dash on the metro back to the Trocadero and buy some macaroons.  (We had tasted a heavenly salted caramel one the night before)  Lisa headed back to the hotel to gather our luggage. We called a taxi to take us to Hard Rock Cafe for dinner.  Yes, I know it's not very Parisian, but I just needed some American food.  We gave our taxi driver the address and off we went.  45 minutes and 35 Euros later we were still in our taxi and from what my iPhone indicated, we weren't close to the restaurant yet.

We asked the driver to pull over and hauled our luggage onto the Metro.  15 minutes later we were at the Gare (train station) and seated at a French restaurant for dinner.  All I really wanted was a burger and fries….we couldn't even get a side order of fries!!  Lisa and I settled for a Caesar salad and Marcie had a salad with Apricots and goat cheese.  We finished with minutes to spare to hit the train back to Strasbourg.

Still smiling….despite the cab ride from….you know where

This guy could obviously spot cute American women…he was at the light beside us. 

Best part of our taxi ride…..a beautiful rainbow

A big thanks to my hubby for staying up late to drive across town and pick us up.  We were all happy to be back at the apartment and were looking forward to a good night's sleep.  Tomorrow's adventure would be at the open air market and Marcie was SOOO excited.

Wishing you one of God's "rainbows" in your times of frustration….He is faithful and He can deliver you if you let Him.

Indiana girls in Paris

Paris is about 2 1/2 hours by train from our apartment. This was to be my second trip on the TGV. (Train à Grande Vitesse) This high-speed train reaches speeds of 320 km or nearly 200 mph.  It's a great way to travel because you don't have to worry about traffic and you don't need to make a pit stop for a restroom break.

We boarded the train at 6:30AM on Monday and our Paris adventure began.  As I mentioned, there are restrooms on the train.  It's similar to an airplane, in that, you are not supposed to travel to other cars/classes to use their restrooms, but should stay in your own.  About 45 minutes outside of Paris, Lisa and I braved the moving train (at almost 190mph) to visit the bathroom.  We were in a 2 level car and we were on the top "floor".  We waited for almost 5 minutes and no one seemed to be coming out of the bathroom.  We tried the door several times, just to be sure that we weren't standing there waiting for an empty bathroom.  Door was locked, it said "occupied" so we waited patiently.

We continued to wait another 5 minutes…luckily, it wasn't an emergency for either of us.  Still no one came out.  Finally, at the 15 minute mark we walked down the steps and into another restroom.  From my seat, I could see the bathroom door where we had been waiting.  I'm not sure what the man who had been "occupying" it ate for dinner, but he didn't exit for over 30 minutes.  Glad we used the other one!

When you arrive at the Paris train station (GARE in French), you have access to the Metro (subway), the bus or a taxi.  We chose the taxi.  You head for the "queue" and wait your turn.  There were a lot of people waiting so it took us about 15 minutes to finally land a cab.  The weather was chilly and rainy, so it wasn't a pleasant wait, but hey, we were in PARIS.

I like when my taxi drivers use a GPS when they are driving me around.  Then, I know that they aren't just literally taking me and my money for a ride.  I usually try to pull up the location on my iPhone just so that I can keep them honest.  But let's face it, keeping someone honest in a second language is a challenge.  He seemed to take the "less direct" route, but was able to get us to our hotel for under 20 Euro.

Our room wasn't quite ready, but we were there about 4 hours before check-in.  They offered us coffee and pastries in the lounge while they finished getting it ready.  The hotel was decorated for Halloween and had fake "cobwebs" all over the restaurant/lounge area.  Not my cup of tea, nor was it Marcie's…somehow the cobwebs kept getting in her food and attaching themselves to her clothing.

Have I mentioned that my wonderful friends brought me a new sweater for this trip?

I haven't worn matching outfits since I was a Junior in HS and my friend group bought a knock off "polo" shirt and sewed a penguin on where the "alligator" should have been.  Luckily, we all dressed them a little differently and we only had one man in the elevator asked where he could get his "matching" shirt.

We made it into the room and unpacked our gear and were ready to hit the streets.  Well, sort of.  You see, the wonderful "steak tartare" from Sunday night was about to make itself known.

Remember the train?  Apparently, it had begun then.  Lisa thought it was just…. well, you know.  I didn't realize that while I was checking us into the Marriott she had used the lobby restroom also.  And, well, she also christened our newly cleaned hotel room.  She was convinced that it was just the vitamins/supplements that she was taking and that she WASN'T sick.

We took her word for it and headed out.  We decided that we were going to travel on the Hop-on hop-off bus for a tour of the whole city.  This was Marcie's first visit to Paris, so we wanted to cover a lot of ground.  We weren't going to actually "do" a lot of the activities because we are saving those for the next trip when the husbands would join us.  (David wants to make sure that everyone knows that he has yet to be in Paris for sightseeing and I've now been there twice)

It turned into a lovely afternoon and so we sat on the top of the bus and were able to get a lot of great photos.  We did do a lot of "hopping off" to find "toilettes".  It isn't as easy as you might think and can be a little stressful. It stressed me out and I wasn't the one with the issue!!

Enough of the WC (water closet).  We were able to browse through some very fun shops for souvenirs.  Marcie and Lisa are professional shoppers…I am not.  Don't get me wrong, I love to shop, but once I have what I came for, I am ready to leave.  Marcie and Lisa apparently never quite "have what they came for".

One of my favorite memories of the whole week came while we were in a hosiery store.  Anyone who knows Lisa will understand that she likes FUNKY clothing (my words).  She saw some tights in the window and they had her name written on them.  I think that they had a white chicken on them….but that's beside the point to the story.  There were two sales people inside the store.  One was around 20 and the other was probably about 60.  Lisa had picked up her tights and they were too pricey. (48 Euro, or $64)  In swooped Marcie to save the day…..she would buy them as her birthday present.

While Marcie payed for the transaction, Lisa voiced her concern about sizing.  The younger sales clerk assured Lisa that a S/M would fit.  The older sales clerk opened them up and showed Lisa how they would stretch to accommodate size.  As the clerk held the tights up to Lisa's waist and did the "stretch" thing, her face contorted into a look of horror and she began shaking her head from side to side, clucking her tongue and murmuring the words "no, no no".  I started howling in laughter….I actually had to bend over from at the waist to catch my breath.  I finally had to leave the store because I couldn't stop laughing.

Fortunately, Lisa thought it was funny too and was not offended by either the sales clerk's reaction or my laughter.

Back onto the bus.  We made it to Notre Dame Cathedral and decided we needed a refreshment break. (and a toilette of course)  I had been doing most of the ordering and now Lisa and Marcie wanted to take a stab at it.  While we waited for our server to come over I gave them the quick French 101 lesson.  I want (Je voudrais) sounds like (zhuy voo dray) and then water (eau) sounds like (Ohhh).  You just can't say I want water, you have to throw in a couple of other articles like "la" or "de".  We were going to drink tap water (to save $5 a bottle) so we would ask for "un carafe d'eau".  Marcie asked again how to say water, I said "eau" and then spelled it for her "e-a-u". She said "Ohhh Ohhh"?  We obviously cracked up.  I explained that I had pronounced it for her and then spelled it for her.

Enter the server.  I ordered, Lisa ordered and then it was Marcie's turn. Zhuy voo DA dray…..agua….parlay voo.  An extra "da" syllable, the Spanish word for "water" and "do you speak".  The poor server walked away shaking his head.  The good news is that we were able to get our drinks, along with a carafe of water and use the restroom.  By all standards, it was a success.

Back onto the bus.  We were now headed to the Eiffel Tower.  We had a dinner reservation near the tower at 7:00, but we weren't sure that Lisa would make it.  She had had a long day and was not doing well.  She had, however, insisted that we stop to see the Eiffel Tower lit up.

I had seen the Tower with the kids in June.  It was spectacular.  Let me just say that the Eiffel Tower at night  from the Trocadero is one of THE most amazing sights I've ever seen.  It definitely needs to be a bucket list item for everyone.  Lisa was so happy that she was able to experience it with us, but now we really needed to get back to the hotel.

Our bus was going to take too long, so we braved the Metro.  It was fun and I was glad we did.  We ate dinner at the hotel and Lisa was feeling better, she was NOT SICK.  At least that is what she would tell us before she would drink from our glass or sample a bite of our food.

Time for bed.  We have taken several "hedge" girl trips and it is typically Lisa and I that share one bed and Marcie and Janaé who share the other.  So I was in a bed with Lisa.  At 12:30 AM I heard her get up and go to the bathroom.  This time it was the other end.  She came back to bed and said to me, "you better get in bed with Marcie, I think I might be sick".  Wow, that was a revelation!!  Poor thing.  She had a rough night.

Moral to the story?  DO NOT EAT RAW MEAT…..especially when it looks like cat food on a plate and weighs almost a pound.

Tune in next time for Lisa's french hair cut.