Rained Out

Bon Jour Mes Amies!
Ok.  Why is my skin so dry all of a sudden?  It's not a low fat diet--that's for sure.
I walked out of the door this morning to find hard rain that was not forecast.  I had plans for a day trip to the town of Vienne famed for Roman ruins. I'd written down train times and the direction to the Tourist Information Office and packed a snack for the train coming back.  I bring a bag of nuts with me on my trip, and I have a little plastic container that holds a single serving that I can put in my purse.  But if the day was rainy then my plans would not work well.  I instantly scraped and changed them.  I don't need to be in a hurry so this is not a big deal.  I'll go to Vienne later.
A gigantic and maze-like shopping mall is within about ten minutes walk and is across the street from the train station. I just enjoy poking around stores in foreign countries, so I first I took myself off to the train station hoping that the sky would clear. I hoped in vain, but I got to check out future destinations for day trips when the weather is suitable.  Then I crossed the street to the shopping center.
I needed to get some hours of walking in, and this was a good place to do it.  I had a lot of windows to lick. I squirted myself with some fancy perfume in Galeries  Lafayette.  Gucci, I thought, can't possibly be bad.  I was mistaken.  Gurgh!  The name of the stuff was "Guilty." Duh. Should have clued me in.
Someone I know has a birthday coming up very shortly.  Pre blogging I was in Sarlat one year buying something, and Madame asked me if  my purchase was a gift.  "Oui!" I replied, "por moi meme."  In other words a present for myself. and Madame said those were the best kind. So I figured today would be a good opportunity to shop, but although I saw many things I liked, I did not see anything I liked and could carry home.
If you have a yen for a burger in Lyon there's a Burger King in the basement next to the metro station.  You can also find a McDonalds in the mall.  The French apparently love fast food, but since actual French fast food is widely available, why would a tourist try anything else?
On my way home I found a post office for a wonder open, but French post offices double as banks, and a lot of other stuff goes on there so I was confused.  Fortunately a very kind woman offered me assistance, and I was able to buy my stamps for the post cards.  I spoke French--just not very well.
I ended up at Les Halles de Paul Bocuse.  I have the suspicion that the spectacle of me--an obvious American trying to shop en francais--is highly entertaining to the French I interact with, but they are always so gracious and patient that it remains only a suspicion.
Ok, Pil.  So you bought something to eat.  Spill.
Part of the rationale of this blog is to entertain the readers, and I happen to know that a lot of said readers are entertained by food.  I sacrifice myself for my public.  Or at least I sacrifice my arteries. My taste buds do just fine.
First of all I want to warn those who are offended by foie gras.  I understand the offense.  I just don't share it.  Skip the next paragraph.
I prefer foie gras de canard--in other words duck liver.  It's considered less delicate and prestigious than goose liver, but when have I ever cared for that?  We have it served on pain Polaine de Siegle (rye bread.)  I did not get pate.  I sprang for the "entire," and I did not get much of it. Mine appears to have bits of truffle in it.  OOH. Yep.  The taste is impossible to describe.  It's not liverish or strong.  It's just very rich and satisfying.
Next up is some Rocamador, a delicate goat cheese that melts at room temperature.  It comes in small discs and I have one of them spread on pain Polaine.  It's divine!  Very tasty and fresh tasting, but not goaty at all--just very cheesy.
I got another goat cheese, too.  This one is a little more mature, and I had a nice conversation with the charming and attractive cheesemonger about what was and was not available in the United States.  He's visited and claims that lait cru Camenbert is available in big cities--probably only in my dreams.
Do we need to pronounce the world Cougar, Pil?
Not at all.  Just a couple of cheese lovers having a conversation.  Sheesh. Poor chap was probably bored out of his mind with no one to sell cheese to until I came along.  Anyway back to the goat cheese.  It's creamy and mild and not too different from the Rocamador although this one had a more pronounced rind I had to trim off.
Now I'm going to wash my hair.
A demain and let's hope for some sun.