The Smells Of The City...

Every market here in Bordeaux is distinct from the other.  Some are crowded, some more quiet, some are indoors, some compete outside with the elements.  The marché below the Basilique Saint Michel can be immediately recognized by its smell.  Good smells...

The Saint Michel neighborhood is traditionally a district with a large immigrant population.  Storefronts spill over into the streets where stacks of tagines balance precariously atop oriental rugs and stacks of leather slippers.  Though this quartier, like San Francisco's Mission District, is slowly becoming gentrified in part as a result of the economic downturn, the Saturday market still reflects its varied colors and backgrounds of a global bazaar.  

The first thing you smell stepping into the market are the fresh herbs- persil, coriande and romarin.  Then the spices arranged in canvas sacks and sold by the gram.  Then the leafy scent of fruit and vegetables, mingled with the smell of the merchants cigarette.  All of these smells are augmented by another sensation: the omniscient cast shadow of the giant spire overhead; an ode to the dragon-slaying Saint Michael who, you may not have known is the patron saint of grocers. 

Quelle Coincidence!

 Oh la, la! Les francais!

Basilique Saint-Michel.

Hungry For More...

I'm still not convinced Bordeaux has much to offer in the way of good food- there isn't even an Anthony Bourdain episode about Bordeaux!

I've never really used yelp to find places eat, I generally rely on word of mouth or the ambiance of a restaurant to decide where to go.  Here in Bordeaux, however, the restaurants are generally variations on the same theme and it's difficult to one storefront from another.  Yelp isn't widely used here, and Qype, the French equivalent hasn't been particularly helpful. 

Tsoleene, Hannah and I decided we are going to remedy this and start reviewing restaurants on our own.

Tonight we chose Fufu Noodles.  We made our decision based on the amount of people packed into this tiny hole-in-the-wall eatery on Rue Saint Remi. 

Inside, we we're seated at the bar facing the open kitchen where cooks flipped and fried noodles in giant woks.

When you convert the prices into dollars, the noodle bowls are a bit steep (9-12 Euros).  They are quite large however and you could stretch one meal into two if you take your left overs to go.  Hannah's dinner was the best of the three, she ordered the Yasai Ramen, wok fried noodles that  tasted almost of cinnamon, with pickled ginger on top.

Though I understand the appeal of Fufu, with it's easy going ambiance and warmly lit interiors, I would not necessarily make this restaurant a destination.  Many of the dishes were too rich or too plain, both short comings when you're faced with such a massive bowl of ramen.  

I'm not sure if that really constitutes much of a restaurant review.  I think there are other things a proper critic is supposed to address, in addition to eating at the establishment on at least three different occasions for the sake of a well rounded review.  Unfortunately, I haven't got the means, as a student, to eat a places that are not always the best they can be.  I am here only to eat best of the best food and I cannot slow down until I find the best restaurants in Bordeaux.

Mornings on the Quai...

Freak thunderstorms must be quite common here in Bordeaux.  The pelting raindrops and cracks of thunder lasted only twenty minutes but left people completely soaked, huddling in doorways and sheltering their infants with shopping bags.

I would have imagined everything washed away in this deluge, yet on the banks of the Gironde, the white tents of the Chatron Market still stood strong.  Below the tents were the prettiest arrangements of produce, seafood, made to order pizzas and kebab lunches, spice stalls and the most beautiful cheeses I have ever seen in my entire life. 

This market is quite close to my house so I plan to try one cheese a week until I've tried them all.  I think they'll be perfect for midday picnics in the Jardin Public!

Brace yourself, there are a lot of pictures of cheese... 

Tables and chairs kept dry under the tent.

Eggplant stacked with mozzarella, and prosciutto + fresh kebabs for lunch!

So beautiful!

Hand thrown salt shakers.

Winter Is Coming...

How do I convey my obsession with Pendleton Blankets?

I love, love, love, love, love all things Pendleton.  

My grandfather gave my family our first wool blanket when I was young, and our collection has been growing ever since.  

I got my very own Pendleton Blanket as a Christmas gift this year.  I love it, though it's only the beginning of what will become a vast collection.

Sitting on top of my Pendleton Blanket.

 I also have a beautiful B.B. Dakota coat that is inspired by old Pendleton Patterns.

Please excuse the goofiness of my expression the photo:  it was taken outside of Voodoo Donuts (hence the wide open mouth) over spring break when I went to Portland with Shannon.  We visited the Pendleton Woolen Mills while we were in Oregon too.  I would have taken every blanket in the store home and snuggled up under the huge pile of them, if I could.

Pendleton inspired coat.

Of course, when I learned this spring that Pendleton Woolen Mills was collaborating with the Portland design team Church and State, I couldn't stop jumping up and down.  I didn't think Fall could come fast enough, and with it, the debut of the new line: The Portland Collection.  (Just ask Shannon, who had to listen to me squeak and squeal about it for months!)  The line is out now in the states and, fingers crossed, maybe it will come here to Europe also! Could you imagine bundling up in these in the the winds of autumn and cold of winter?  They'll be perfect!

Warm Hearth, Warm Home...

Home is where your heart is, and my heart is in the kitchen.  

Erika, our temporary homestay mom has one of the coziest kitchens I've ever been in.  We ate our breakfasts together in this charmingly rustic nook, with it's furnished with worn wooden tables and chairs, old stone floors, and the largest collection of spoons I've ever seen in my life!  

Someday I hope to have a kitchen as cozy as Madame Barry's.

P.S.  Erika's back doors are always open and her three hens love coming into the house and helping themselves to chicken feed in the corner, and searching for food scraps on the kitchen floor!

P.P.S. Madame Barry is obsessed with Elvis.  Can you find him in the kitchen?

Chez Erika...

It took far too long, but the UC EAP program finally addressed the conditions and repercussions of housing students in Village 3.  The homestay families that some of the students in our program had opted to live with during the semester were contacted early and these generous families took not only one student into their homes, but up to nine!

I was invited, along with eight other students, to stay the weekend with Madame Barry.  I could not imagine having so many strangers in my home, but Erika welcomed us into her beautiful home in Talence, and found us all places to sleep.  In addition to opening her home to us, she also provided us with breakfast and dinner, and we ate like proper French people on our first night, eating lapin, drinking wine, and enjoying the challenge of speaking French exclusively. 

Dinner in the back garden.

Madame Barry decorates her home with greenery from the garden.

Merci Beaucoup, Erika!

A Sunday Market...

The University of Bordeaux is quite far from Bordeaux itself.  It takes half an hour to get to Place de la Victoire, the beginning of Bordeaux proper.  The tram ride between the University and the city takes you through the banlieues, or suburbs, of Bordeaux.  Bègles and Talence create a southern border between the city and the University and on the other side of Bordeaux3 lies Pessac, where students from the unlucky EAP group at Village 3 have been going to the mini mart to buy various inedible things for lunch and dinner.

Despite their meager offerings however, (only a Carrefour and a Paul near the tram stop), the Sunday Market in Pessac is a wonderful place to buy fresh fruits and vegetables, oysters and paella, bread and pastries.  

This was the first time I'd had fruit thus far in France.  (The Carrefour's fruit and vegetable offerings are so sad and wilted, I can't bring myself to eat them.)  

We struggled through the masses of people wedged in between the narrow rows of stands, sampling produce and pastries.  We picnic-ed on our treasures and promised to make Sunday Market's a weekly event. 

 Now I'm on a hunt to find the best market in Bordeaux! 

Not quite a balanced breakfast, but the best I've had thus far in France...