Damp and Cold

Bon jour, mes amies,

It got all the way up to 15C this afternoon.  That's 59F for you Americans.  The United States really needs to convert to metric.  I'm on my way to being bi measurement.
I had some chores to do this morning, getting cash, recycling, buying groceries, and then I set out hoping that it would warm up and stay dry and that I could get on a bus or train or something.  Nope on both.  Then I discovered my umbrella was broken.  Fortunately although wonky, it still functioned.
Even though I did not go anywhere in particular, I did walk a lot as I enjoy the city, and I worked up an appetite.  I'm having a rather rich apero.  I toasted some bread and on one slice I have some creamy goat cheese.  On the other I have rillettes de poulet.  Rillettes are one of those traditional country dishes born of the necessity of conserving food.  The most authentic kind are made with pork.  You can do this at home by cooking the heck out of a chicken or some other meat then stewing the meat in fat and adding salt and pepper or other herbs and spices should you fancy them.  The chicken or other meat should be pounded or processed into a paste.  Then you can pack it in a container and cover it with more fat if you wish to keep it for a while.  It's really good!  I don't bother making rillettes at home because I can always come to France.
So I just walked around licking windows and going in and out of stores.  In Sephora I sniffed something called Costa Azzura.  How cool, I thought, squirting myself liberally, Cote d'Azur in Italian.  Phew.  Nasty!  I was sorry immediately.
I walked around the fancy shopping mall.  It's a lot like those in the United States even unto the Starbucks, which was packed.  European shopping malls offer wifi, and I saw a lot of folks taking shelter from the weather and playing with their phones.  Most of the stores are about clothing, but candy is also big.  The Nissards are preparing for an Easter sugar orgy.  The displays in candy stores--and oh are they beautiful--are of giant chocolate eggs, bunnies, and ducklings.  The mall stores are chains with electronics, books, furniture--whatever you fancy.  One store I always like going in is called Nature Decoverte.  It's got everything from travel gear to boutique toiletries to educational material.
Then I trammed up to the Marche Liberation, which was much less crowded on a rainy weekday.  It's huge and makes no concessions to tourists.  I was enthralled and a bit grossed out by the fish stands.  The Mediterranean Diet is fishy, and I eat a lot of fish at home, but the variety and the--er--natural state of said fish was overwhelming.  What do you fancy?  Finned fish by the dozens were laid out.  Shell fish.  Crabs.  I even saw octopus.  All of these creatures had their full body parts including eyes.  I'm a fillet--please don't have what I'm eating look like it was once a real live animal--sort of fish eater.  Or give me fish in cans.  Or achoiade.
Something else I noticed that surprised me.  In Paris the market rule is "Ne toucher pas."  Do not touch the product.  The vendor will chose for for or pick up what you point at.  I have found this the case in other markets in other countries.  In Nice the buyers were picking out, i.e. touching their own tomatoes, peppers, etc.
Since it had warmed up all the way to 15C I decided to walk home in the rain, and I came across something else I had not seen before.  On one block some older woman had set up stands.  They'd cut reeds and braided them into elaborate and beautiful patterns and shapes and were creating more.  What an interesting skill.  It must be traditional to the region, and I wondered if this was another Easter preparation.
A demain