Saorge is a water-friendly town. Cold, clear water flows from the mountains and supplies the town — and we’re told it’s pure. I sure hope so, because I often see people drinking from one of the many spigots that flow ‘round the clock into basins and troughs. Said troughs look ancient, like most things around here.
In Kansas City, our water bill is by far the biggest of the utility bills we receive. Here, we pay €20 a month for water and trash service. Just a flat fee. But the standard monthly electric bill is about $90, which does not include any air-conditioning, and it costs us $70 to fill up the tank of our small car.
While bread and wine are dirt cheap on French soil, fruits and vegetables are quite pricey for those of us used to American prices. I suspect the prices here in France more accurately reflect the labor and the value thereof. Meat, too, is expensive. Beef seems popular, but I am here to tell you that it is not nearly as tasty as American beef and costs at least twice as much. The most common meat found in any restaurant seems to be pork. Especially ham. Veal seems to be quite prevalent as well, although it is not something we order. Our murderous tendencies don’t extend to baby cows, it appears.
In Saorge and in the nearby towns, you can get a sandwich or a Panini (usually ham and cheese ) for €5 or less. But the standard price for a Caesar salad is €12.50. Wine can be had for about three dollars a glass or six dollars for a half carafe, which is about 17 ounces, or more than half a bottle of wine. I have no idea what sort of wine I have been drinking here. So far we haven’t been to any place fancy enough to specify anything other than red or white. It is all fine, quite unlike the cheap American plonk I avoid at all costs.
Saorge is a stone’s throw from the Italian border, which makes it even stranger to me that regular coffee is so mediocre in France. Everyone seems to buy the already ground coffee, which any true coffee lover could tell you is a few steps down from optimal. I have found two stores with beans but so far the beans are only average. Italy, of course, is home to the best coffee machines on the planet, so there is no excuse for this pre-ground shit in France, in my opinion. So far, we simply order cappuccinos, although I have also had one really good macchiato. I might order it more but it is such a tiny pour it makes my wallet flinch.
Jonah orders hot chocolate everywhere we go, chocolat chaud. It doesn’t come with a huge dollop of whipped cream as he prefers, but it often has a head of frothy milk. A note of caution here: if you are in Italy and order a hot chocolate, you may literally get a hot chocolate. A steaming glass of what appears to be chocolate pudding. We have figured out a workaround by asking, in our butchered Italian, for hot chocolate with a lot of milk added.
And now a last word on liquid refreshment in France. I am relatively sure I have the best three bottles of whiskey in Europe. To whit, Blackened, High West Double Rye and Pikesville Rye. Our shoulders are still sore from our very heavy suitcases, but by God I needed my whiskey. I am only sorry I don’t have someone who appreciates whiskey to share them with. I warned Andie that probably all we would be able to get over here would be Scotch (yuck) and Irish whiskey. I was right about the Jameson and the Scotch, but I’ll be damned if I didn’t spot a bottle of Four Roses in a store one evening. Mind you, I don’t care for the regular Four Roses.
There is no rye anywhere. But every bar and every grocery store has one example of American whiskey on its shelves: Jack Friggin’ Daniels. How in the love of Christ did this happen, America? And can I have some sympathy for my wife, because that is her new mixer for her freshly made whiskey sours?
Living Vicariously! Keep these coming.
ReplyDelete