Monthly Archive for July, 2008

 For my actual birthday … Jacopo took us to a restaurant in a tiny village close to Aosta. This restaurant is owned by a couple: The woman is the server (yes, as in only one), the man is the chef, and their first son drives every other day two and a half hours to pick up the fish that the second son fishes for on the coast… You don’t get a menu, you merely sit down and she brings you the courses that he’s prepared for the day. Everything is homemade and incredibly fresh. There were five tables in the whole restaurant and you need to call ahead and tell them that you’re coming if you want to dine… IT WAS MARVELOUS! We sat down around 1:00 and seven courses later plus wine and genepi we stood up to leave around 5:00? Kelly, my favoritest nugget in the whole wide world  gave me the present she had been toting around with her for two months:WHAT!!??!?! AHHH!!!!After lunch Jacopo introduced us to his friend Jepo… Jepo and his father are butchers. We stopped by during business hours and Jepo and his father immediately opened a bottle of wine and started drinking with us, all while letting us taste all their fresh sausages!When the second bottle was opened the team was a little hesitant:It didn’t take TOO MUCH PERSUASION: I needed only to remind them that they were sitting in a Butcher’s shop in ITALY being offered fresh Italian wine and sausage during business hours!!! HOW MANY TIMES TO GET TO DO THAT IN THE STATES?!!  Good talk. Birthday night was a party… I danced all night at a “toga” party … in Italy?… hmm…   Needless-to-say- it was magical to have my father out here to catch a glimpse of my life. I’ve wanted to share this with him for a long time. It was a treat to have Fred Arne travel out for the extravaganza… such a fabulous thing to see him. Jacopo was, as he always is, the most incredible host in the world… and my nugget made my birthday extravaganza what it was… she stuck with me all the way around the country… she even navigated me through Paris.  Few closing shots:  (this is the view from the back door of my dad’s hotel room! AH!)  (Kelly and Rachael on an old Roman bridge)  (for anyone that wouldn’t know… that’s a ski lift on top of the rocks?)   

  So during our 2,600 km road trip around the entire country for my birthday holiday… Kelly and I–needless-to-say–stopped at NUMEROUS (sometimes two in one day) McDonalds. Out here the cool kids call it “MacDou”. Subsequently I thought it appropriate to take notes on the experience of french fries at  various different french McDonalds… My first MacDou’s in France was in Valence… Kelly and I had to leave the toll road and actually ask the toll-worker “Il y a une MacDou dans Valence?” — really? … two american girls driving around a rental car attempting to find a McDonalds- in FRANCE? The toll-worker laughed (at us) not with us… and spit out something that sounded like there might be a golden arches somewhere if we continued “tout droit” (straight)… but we second guessed ourselves as we realized that “driot” alone is to the right? Greeeaaat. Whatever. We giggled and drove around for 30 minutes until we found what we had been looking for. We ordered and stood around for a bit thinking that our food would come out as fast as it does in the states. As we waited we watched the manager eat a burger while directing his employees during a busy time. When was the last time you saw a McDonalds employee eating McDonalds? Our food took forever turns out even fastfood in france is on the french clock… our food had to be taken out to us. I sat between two women breast feeding…? While I sat contemplating this fact, I noticed a security guard opening the door for customers arriving and leaving? The MacDou’s had bar booths complete with pillars and club music pumping… My Big Mac had no ketchup, no mustard, and only “salad sauce”. My coke had no ice. My M&M’s McFlurry had peanuts. My tray came with no straw, no napkins, and no ketchup for my fries nor could they be found anywhere in the restaurant. We later discovered that you need to ask the person you order from for all of the above — Good talk. The manager (that had just eaten the burger) noticed that we were not familiar with these MacDou methods and proceeded to check on us twice… ? …. at McDonalds?? The next 6 McDou’s I stuck with the “cheeseburger” — it was a good bet… usually extremely fresh considering NO ONE orders the cheeseburger in France… they prefer the “M” = a burger with only cheese and mayo on stale ciabatta? F-ing disgusting…. (I tried it and couldn’t finish) ?? One of my favorite MacDou’s stories was our last experience with the golden arches… Kelly and I arrived at a drive through that was supposed to open at 11:00 am… we drove through twice looking for the appropriate window/com board to place our order… on our third pass (we were determined to be as smart at the drive through) we saw that the manager racing over to unlock the window for us to start-up the drive through service…we were the first drive through of the day… it was NOON … on a friday…?? Welcome to McDou in France. Thing is… it’s still good–worth driving through three more times if need be… Delicious little slice of American heaven in every cheeseburger. McDonalds transcends regardless. hell-O?……….. anyone awake?