A large part of the reason why I travel anywhere is food.  When I get somewhere, the first thing I want to do is eat.  Prague is not an ideal destination for this–as a vegetarian, I’m mainly limited to the already-mentioned fried cheese.  While it’s good, it’s not something to eat every day.  If I was going to move somewhere else, it would have to be somewhere with good food.  One of my favorite memories from Italy is a meal I had in Rome.  Bruschetta, pasta with olive oil, cheese and pepper, and prosecco.  Erica, Allison and I ate around ten our first night at a tiny restaurant in Trastevere, down a winding back street dotted with glowing bars and bicycles locked up for the night.  From Thailand, I remember the tiny coconut milk cakes that you could buy in the markets.  They were so hot when you got them that you would invariably burn your tongue, but it was worth it.  Sometimes they were sweet, sometimes dotted with chives or sweet corn.  If I ever saw those at home, I would camp out in front of the restaurant.  Sadly, I don’t think they’ve ever made it outside of the realm of street food.

France, though…I don’t know where to begin with France.  Any country that values both their cheese and their desserts so highly deserves to be at the top of the list.  A few weeks ago, Heidi and I spent roughly 40 hours in Paris, and I would estimate that about three-quarters of that time was spent eating or staring at food.  And so, without further adieu (wordplay!), here are some pictures of food in France, plus one of the Eiffel Tower.  It’s Paris, after all.

Beautiful purple artichokes

Hot chocolate (somewhat oddly named L’Africain) from Angelina

Macarons in chocolate, caramel, strawberry and pistachio

Bread at a boulangerie

Fresh bread, five types of cheese, and wine made by Maud’s uncle

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