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The
funny thing about having a blog is that you become “searchable.” I’ve
changed my tune many times, which astute readers often note, on
everything from where my favorite
croissant can be found (in 2007), where I get my falafel
fix (a change from 2005),
to what French butter
I prefer (in 2008). C’est
normale. Bakeries change hands, restaurants slip in quality,
or, more recently, you redesign your blog and decide to go back and
update pictures and older posts as you land on them. But with 1753
posts here, it’s hard to keep them all updated, while still moving
forward
 Last
night I was having drinks with a new friend and I told her about a
great restaurant somewhere that she was going to visit. For the life
of me, I couldn’t remember the name of it. And now, the morning after, I
can’t even remember where she was going so I could send her the link
to it! I guess I could compare myself to a computer; if you put too much
information in, you’re going to run out of memory. So my blog is like my
“cloud” in a way, where the information is retrievable – even if my brain
crashes.
Like
croissants and butter, Dijon mustard is a big deal in France. It’s the
condiment of choice and the French have adopted le ketchup, a
condiment that they have a love/hate relationship with. It was famously banned
in school cafeterias, which may have created more of a stir in America
than in France, but the shelves of les
supermarchés have plenty of bottles of Heinz on hand, and
other brands, to feed the local appetite for what is often
an international symbol of la
cuisine américaine. (Never mind that I’m from Northern
California, and spend time in New York, so my symbols are heirloom
tomatoes, local greens, and pastured meat. And ketchup isn’t even
American, but an Asian-inspired condiment, likely derived from a
Chinese sauce made with fermented fish.)
 In
spite of the emergence of ketchup appearing on some French tables, Dijon
mustard is still the king of the condiments. Many Americans got
their first taste of Dijon mustard via Grey Poupon,
now made by an American company (it’s hardly available in France,
although there is a store in
Dijon that apparently sells it), courtesy of some witty
commercials that featured a gentleman in a Rolls-Royce pulling up
alongside another limo politely
requesting some Grey Poupon.
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