Montpellier Blog, Chapter 2: My Memories Are Stored in My Stomach
It will come as no surprise that when I was preparing to study abroad in France, one of the things that I most looked forward to was the food. I dreamed constantly about the bakeries, anticipating the fresh crusty baguettes and the delicately layered desserts in pastel and fruity colors.
The flavors and variety were spectacular. I remember éclairs, plump with cream and glistening with chocolate; colorful mousses, fluffy and inviting in shades of chocolate and fruit; shortbread tarts with berries and citrus; and flaky pastries, warm and buttery and perfect…
My ardor for dessert soon led me to the shop that became my favorite place in Montpellier: Chocolats Thierry Papereux. Located in the square of the church Saint-Roch, this unique shop is run by a husband and wife. While she served customers and managed the store, he worked behind a cloth partition at the back of the store, where he crafted all the chocolates by hand. The results were some of the most exquisite chocolates, of all types and flavors and colors, as well as the most delicious macarons that I’ve ever tasted. The truffles would have fillings of coffee, caramel, and fruit, and be decorated on their little domes with chocolate dust that glowed like gold.
The macarons, pretty in pastel colors, appeared in creative flavor combinations that were delightful. Unlike almost all of the macarons that I had previously eaten, these actually tasted of fruit and herbs, not just of sugar.
Thanks to town squares like the one at Saint-Roch, cafés and restaurants existed as much without doors as within. Out front and on the streets, each establishment had set up their own charming, umbrella-covered tables. This arrangement created an atmosphere of communal refreshment and ease, a distinct aspect of Mediterranean culture.
In addition to the bakeries and cafés, I made other delightful gastronomic discoveries. To my great satisfaction, the produce was both plentiful and beautiful. I avoided the supermarkets and paid many visits to small shops and market stalls, which offered the most tasty and gorgeous fruits and veggies from France, Italy, and Spain.
I also found inviting little shops that specialized in one product, such as tea, olive oil, jam, or honey. Those were a special treat: I always feel a deep satisfaction when admiring the dedication to and mastery of a single craft.
For example, I looked with such pleasure on the marvelous variety of honey, whose color and consistency changed depending on the flowering plant involved.
Another fun treat was the tradition of Christmas markets, which appeared in the main square of every French city for the entire month of December. It was a festive delight to the eyes and the stomach: breads, cakes, cookies; cheeses and sausages; waffles and fries; tea, spices, salts; the list goes on!
In order to complete my survey of French gastronomy, I must mention something that, though far from artisanal, is an important part of the French diet: Nutella. As the French will tell you themselves, Nutella is a household staple with the rank of a national treasure. To illustrate my point, let me share the following story: once a month, I would go to the supermarket Géant Casino for its international aisle, the only place in Montpellier where I could buy peanut butter. On my obligatory journey to the cookie aisle (home to my favorite Italian biscotti and Le Petit Écolier), I would pass the Nutella, which laid claim to the shelves’ full height. Jars on jars, stacks on stacks… never before or since have I seen so much Nutella in one place. I had to take a photo to commemorate the sight.
Perhaps best of all, the food in Montpellier provided me with some of my best memories. In addition to the gustatory pleasure, I enjoyed the relaxation and conversation that were just as important elements of the meals. Moreover, it was thanks to a French restaurant that I had one of the most enjoyable interactions of my time in Montpellier. In contrast to American culture, French culture is rather introverted: though polite, people tend to keep to themselves. As someone who feels more at home in an extraverted culture, I appreciated any friendly gesture from the people who crossed my path, especially since I was often walking around by myself. One such time I was eating alone at a restaurant, called Le Petit Bistrot, that I had found in my Montpellier guidebook. When I went up to the counter to pay, an elderly woman was waiting by its edge. Uncertain whether she was in line in front of me, I held back, but the owner of the restaurant saw my hesitation and kindly called me forward. He called me “mademoiselle” (“young lady”), and since the old woman did not see me, she assumed he was speaking to her. She started to respond, flattered that the owner would take that affable, innocently flirtatious air with her, when her husband came walking back from the bathroom and bluntly said, “Not you — the girl behind you!” We all smiled and laughed when the woman finally understood, and she told me in a playful manner how pleased she had been to be called mademoiselle — how it had made her feel young and pretty again, but now that she realized her mistake she was humbled by her vanity.
After I paid for my meal, I walked out with the couple, who continued the conversation. They asked me where I was from and what I was up to in Montpellier, and after hearing my story, they complimented my French and encouraged me. They themselves were from a different part of the country and were there on vacation, visiting the southern cities and countryside during the cool months of fall. The husband and wife were so friendly and sweet, so charming and engaging, that when we parted ways I felt much happier. I was once again in cheerful spirits and appreciative of my time in France and all the little pleasures therein. Though a simple interaction, it was a little ray of sunshine that I sorely needed.
