i am a gourmante
I have decided to frequent the blogging world more...frequently. I shall be regaling all my 5 readers with extraordinary tales of life as a Strasbourgeoise. Today, I went to my first Christmas market. There are at least 4 in Strasbourg, and this particular one specialized in cookies, cakes, and wine. Gingerbread is called pain épices... or is it pain aux épices... shit I have forgotten already! Anyway gingerbread is one of my favorite holiday sweets, being topped only by mom's famous chocolate roll.
Even more delicious than the Christmas sweets are the Christmas drinks. Vin chaud/hot wine/mulled wine is another Christmas specialty in these parts. My first vin chaud experience came in Colmar at about 7pm on a Saturday when the temperature was maybe -3 degrees (Celcius, I'm not in Greenland here); whatever, according to my clock it was Time for a Hot Drink. Over a coffee (and by coffee I mean a shot of bitter black espresso) Lin and I regarded the sign advertising vin chaud for 2 euro and wondered what kind of cup it was served in. She said: ceramic mug. I said: long stemmed wine glass. We ordered two. The answer: a glass mug, perfect for wrapping your cold hands around and sipping (while being careful not to breathe in too hard because the fumes of alcohol are quite strong.) The point of this story: we became instant vin chaud lovers.
I went home and looked up directions online, and last weekend in Paris we got the chance to try out my/the internet's recipe. Some orange slices, a cinnamon stick and a handful of cloves later, our 3 euro bottle of wine sat steaming on the stovetop. Mental image: there is a lot of steam coming up. We are studying it quite closely. Me, suspiciously: "Is that the alcohol evaporating?" Lin, wafting the fumes toward her nose and sniffing expertly: "Yeah, that's definitely alcohol." Well, a more patient and practiced vin chaud connaisseur (shit, I live in France and still can't spell that word) might take pleasure in watching the alcohol evaporate and float away as the wine heats up slooowly. Me and Lin? We want the alcohol IN our wine, kthanks. 40 seconds in the microwave, your vin chaud is piping hot and still tastes fabulous. We enjoyed our creation over a nice game of Qui veut gagner des millions?, drinking edition. (Who Wants to be a Millionaire?, drinking edition). We both know nothing about French pop culture, and so you can guess how that ended up. That in turn was followed by a Scottish pub which was followed by an Australian club, which was followed by a long walk home at 3am and a game of Try and Fail to Act like the Serious Macedonian Girl.
Well that's it for my Christmas cuisine blog. Next time: games in France and identifying acquaintances by their nationality.
Even more delicious than the Christmas sweets are the Christmas drinks. Vin chaud/hot wine/mulled wine is another Christmas specialty in these parts. My first vin chaud experience came in Colmar at about 7pm on a Saturday when the temperature was maybe -3 degrees (Celcius, I'm not in Greenland here); whatever, according to my clock it was Time for a Hot Drink. Over a coffee (and by coffee I mean a shot of bitter black espresso) Lin and I regarded the sign advertising vin chaud for 2 euro and wondered what kind of cup it was served in. She said: ceramic mug. I said: long stemmed wine glass. We ordered two. The answer: a glass mug, perfect for wrapping your cold hands around and sipping (while being careful not to breathe in too hard because the fumes of alcohol are quite strong.) The point of this story: we became instant vin chaud lovers.
I went home and looked up directions online, and last weekend in Paris we got the chance to try out my/the internet's recipe. Some orange slices, a cinnamon stick and a handful of cloves later, our 3 euro bottle of wine sat steaming on the stovetop. Mental image: there is a lot of steam coming up. We are studying it quite closely. Me, suspiciously: "Is that the alcohol evaporating?" Lin, wafting the fumes toward her nose and sniffing expertly: "Yeah, that's definitely alcohol." Well, a more patient and practiced vin chaud connaisseur (shit, I live in France and still can't spell that word) might take pleasure in watching the alcohol evaporate and float away as the wine heats up slooowly. Me and Lin? We want the alcohol IN our wine, kthanks. 40 seconds in the microwave, your vin chaud is piping hot and still tastes fabulous. We enjoyed our creation over a nice game of Qui veut gagner des millions?, drinking edition. (Who Wants to be a Millionaire?, drinking edition). We both know nothing about French pop culture, and so you can guess how that ended up. That in turn was followed by a Scottish pub which was followed by an Australian club, which was followed by a long walk home at 3am and a game of Try and Fail to Act like the Serious Macedonian Girl.
Well that's it for my Christmas cuisine blog. Next time: games in France and identifying acquaintances by their nationality.