First SMS (text message) sent to a friend tonight:
"I am having pizza with Jane Austen, with a view of the Roman baths at the Cluny. How effing great is life in Paris?"
Second SMS sent to same friend not TEN MINUTES LATER:
"I am consistently disappointed by what passes for PIZZA in France. What the hell? Puh-leez discuss on your podcast and tell us where to find something edible and like home."
Friend's reply to this last:
"Oh, this is so easy. It's called Pizza Hut."
Sigh. Not to disparage my friend's preference in cheesy cuisine (and maybe she was pulling my leg) but Pizza Hut has never been my favorite (I never eat there when in the States), and I really try to avoid American fast food over here, just on general principle because this is FRANCE for crying out loud and the food is supposed to be a matter of pride here. Or so I thought. Plus I'm from New Jersey where we have a large Italian-American population and fantastic pizza is available pretty nearly everywhere. Sure, sometimes you get a mediocre slice and not all pizzerias are created equal. Yet in all the time I have lived here now, the best pizza I have had was in an Italian restaurant in GENEVA last summer where the pizza was not only comparable to what I could have gotten in my favorite pizza joint in my home town, but I think it was even BETTER. And that is really saying something.
Living in Paris can be a mixed bag. Right at your doorstep, you have all this incredible history, beautiful buildings and scenery, the best art in the world, amazing pastries, great wine and chocolat chaud, and now it's all smoke-free, too.
On the other hand, try and get a decent slice or a bagel here. I guess you just can't have everything in life.
