Yesterday, I did not go to the grocery store to restock my shelves because I figured the whole world would be there after the holiday. This morning, my cupboard looked like Old Mother Hubbard’s. I knew I could not avoid it any longer, even though it meant probably not making it to meet up with one of Kaitlyn’s friends to go sledding.
I was half right that the whole world would be at Carrefour yesterday. It looked like half went, and half had the same thought I did. So half the world was at Carrefour today. I’ve decided that no one in France actually works, they all spend their days at Carrefour… abandoning carts in front of whatever it is I need, jamming aisle ways, refusing to move. I hate it. I wish the lady at the Petite Casino wasn’t so mean; it would make me more prone to spend my money in her shop. The butcher in town only takes cash, but I think I’m going to start carrying enough!
His store is not anywhere near as scary as the whole meat area in Carrefour. An area Kaitlyn was fascinated by today. She’ll probably be less interested in all of Rome than she was in that stretch of store.
I thought I might buy a whole chicken or turkey to stuff with potatoes, until I saw them. I forgot just what a poor job they do here of plucking their poultry. If I’d gotten past that, I hadn’t even contemplated what might be lurking inside. I know that a Butterball has a nice little package of gizzards inside. Reach in quickly, pull out, toss out. You hardly even have to look at them, let alone think about your dinner’s body parts. Here, well, I just don’t think I’ll ever find out. And I wasn’t entirely sure I wouldn’t accidentally get home to discover buying a bird with its head still on.. just tucked underneath. I’ve seen them like that. Not something I want to eat.
Next to the chickens in the display case are a bunch of little birds. I didn’t look too close. They’re about the size of a robin. I read in some French culture book that some kind of songbird is a delicacy, and it’s eaten bones and all. Crunchy. It’s illegal, so that isn’t what was at Carrefour (probably) but I didn’t stop to make note of the label.
On to the red meat section. I’m so terrified of accidentally buying horse meat. I swear they do not put what kind of red meat you’re buying on the label. That has me scared enough that I actually speak to the butcher-guy so that I can say the word BOEUF. In between the beef and the veal is agneau. Lamb. Today, Mary must be distraught. There was a little lamb on display in the case. Whole thing. Only thing missing was its fur and its head (the neck just had some foil over it). Kaitlyn loved it. Thought it was funny. Thought it looked like a dog sitting up. I thought looked like something unnatural. One’s food should not wave at it.
(This is not to say I only feel this way here. At Morton’s Steakhouse in the U.S. They don’t have a menu, they just wheel cuts of meat around on a cart and you point at what you want. Want lobster? You point at the crustation on a platter, clanking around desperate to get away. I ate there once with my dad in San Francisco. He told the waiter to leave the live meals off the cart, so I could order one without staring at it. Then just as I was about to crack into mine, he wheeled a clanking lobster up to the table behind us. I still ate mine, but I had to wait for his friend to leave)
I feel safe cruising the pre-packaged meats for pork chops. It’s called porc. And I know what a chop looks like…. or should look like. While I hunted around (they’re constantly rearranging that place) Kaitlyn made me leave the cart where she could see in the big window to the room where scores of butchers cut meat. She is one odd little kid sometimes.
In the dairy area, a woman stopped me and was obviously asking me some kind of question about Kaitlyn. I had to fall back on my old stand-by line je ne comprende pas. She smiled and tried again. I finally got it. She had stopped me to mock the mimi! She wanted to know if Kaitlyn sucks in a lot of air with that thing. Kaitlyn wanted to know what the lady wanted. I told her she asked me if Kaitlyn fills up like a balloon with air from the mimi. The woman laughed and nodded her head. She understood me. Good thing I didn’t say that stupid lady… blah blah…
All that moseying around the meat… plus the shoe aisle… along with being harassed… meant we didn’t make it back in time to join up with the sledding. It’s just as well. Apparently the road to Chamrousse was covered with ice. The police were making you put chains on your tires (I have the chains, don’t know that I could put them on) or they were making you turn around and go back down the mountain. We played in what little bit of snow was left in our yard. The sun was doing a pretty good job of melting it today.