All Those Pommes De Terre, S'il Vous Plaît
Russell was starting to feel worse than in the morning, so he and Meriko headed back to the apartment but Meriko was going to meet us at the Rue De Martyrs (the local market street) so we could pick up the last ingredients for our second home-cooked meal in Paris: veal saute (with the
We made it to the market and I SMS'ed Meriko so that we could get together. She wasn't going to make it. So now we're in a slight panic because we left a bit later than we had intended and it was nearing 7 pm which is about the time the shops start to close. Now we had to navigate the maze of food and try and get everything. Fortunately, we scored most everything in a very short span of time, hurrying into shops trying out our best (which was not very good) French language skills.
But the one thing we were after were these delicious-looking roasted potatoes which were roasting with some equally good looking chicken (we bought the chicken on Saturday). They occupied one roasting rack in the middle of a vertical roasting unit and were being basted by the cooking chickens. We had been eyeing these for a few days now.
See those things in the middle...pommes de terre in full roast!
As we approached, panic set in - the potatoes were gone! Damn. Basic part of dinner now in jeopardy...then, Janet saw them. There were about 15 of the delictable nuggets in the roasting pan right in front of us. Without hesitiation, I got the clerk's attention and without even uttering "bonsoir", I waved my hands over the roasting pan and declared "Pommes de terre, s'il vous plaît!" She might have been offended for me not following language protocol but I think she knew her product and matched that with the "I-have-to-have-these-potoatos-right-now" look on my face. She scooped, we paid, said our good byes, we win.