Rue Daguerre

Most grocery stores and markets are closed on Sundays, thus forcing me to make sure I buy a baguette on Saturday so that I can eat lunch on Sunday- I usually forget and end up eating just yogurt. However, I finally made it over to rue Daguerre this morning and found there to be several boulangeries open, thus concluding my Saturday-baguette panic. Rue Daguerre is about a 10 minute walk from my apartment. The end of the street has a bunch of little food shops- one for cheese (fromagerie), several butchers (boucherie), a few chocolate shops (chocolaterie), and several places to buy fresh produce. The shops extend onto the sidewalk, creating a sort of market-like atmosphere. My mother and I visited it when I first arrived in Paris, and I've been back once or twice to run to the post office, but aside from that, I had yet to capitalize on all that the street has to offer. Since I usually try to catch up on work on Sundays, I generally don't leave the apartment, which is sort of pathetic. But I've become so sick of eating pasta every night (I alternate between meat sauce and pesto- so exciting) that I figured it couldn't hurt to actually leave my place and buy some real food that isn't cheese or yogurt.

I bought a roast chicken. I've always associated pre-roasted chickens with Kings, the supermarket back home, as once in a while my mother would bring one home for dinner. The one that's currently sitting in my tiny fridge is a little baby one. The grocery stores over here must have decided that it was morally wrong to sell chicken broth or something, so I bought it to use the leftovers to make broth so I can make myself some soup. Also some protein wouldn't kill me. I also bought a leek, or I think it's a leek (not quite sure what they look like, but the sign had the French word for leek, so I'm assuming it's not something). Whenever I finish the chicken I will attempt to make potato leek soup. I'm really hoping it doesn't turn out icky.

I very much enjoy food shopping here, more so than at school. It's a little like going to the Strip District in Pittsburgh, but different. I have a fresh baguette on my table, a baby roast chicken and a leek in my fridge. These things probably make me far happier than they should.