About Me –

For the past 6 years I’d pretty much been doing the same thing. I worked in television (Lifetime and Oxygen) and I often described my job to people as “marketing original television programming using media planning and broadcasting systems”. My cubicle-mate and good friend, Brie, describes it better as “moving color bars around the computer all day.” She, on the other hand, works in development.

Anyway, I decided I was about 3 years late for a quarter-life-crisis MINI VACATION! So, I quit my job and moved to France for 5 months. It’s pretty much that simple. (HAH! pas vraiment)

Bien, I’m now living in the South of France for the summer, learning French at a language school, meeting new people, becoming obsessed with football – aka “soccer” (aka, soccer PLAYERS), and eating a lot of random things. Food is definitely a reason I’ve come to France, and I’ve been in love with food for years – working in restaurants and catering halls for almost 10 years now and cooking every chance I get. Here, I’m trying to find that ideal French cuisine, that real “joie de vivre” that makes French food so renowned. Seeing as I’m on a budget, and spend most of time figuring out when things are open, I’ve come to find that this may be the goal of the summer.

THIS IS REALLY WHY NAOMI FLIPPED OUT-
5.25.08
I’ve got to start at the beginning… which means, I have to start with my first meal overseas in Heathrow’s brand-spankin’ new Terminal 5.

Giraffe – Global Food, Global Music Restaurant

I’d just pretended to sleep for the 7 hour, over-night flight from Brooklyn to London. I had 2 hours free at Heathrow Airport before boarding for Paris, France. There were about 100 stores at the airport and about 5 decent places to eat. It made me wonder – if airlines want you to get off a plane and shop for 2 hours, they should give you a decent fu*(*&ing pillow.

This Giraffe place looked like heaven – bright and airy tables and a long menu of diverse foods which listed Brooklyn Lager as a beer choice! (seriously!) The waitress recommended coconut noodle soup, and it was bright with lime and crunchy brussel sprouts. After the plane, I was in heaven. I got a humongous, cold, frosty, malted frozen coffee and I stared at tourists for an hour. I opened a little green, good-luck-note, from my friends at home, and I was sure a summer in Europe would be the wonderful-worldly experience I’d imagined.

Then I saw 2 tennis-skirt ladies breezing past the hostess to sit at a dirty table – probably assuming this would get them served faster. I saw 4 ladies ask the waiter to split their check which consisted of 4 coffees and 1 slice of pie. And I saw another couple begging for scrambled eggs on toast when #1 – it was not on the menu, and #2 – it was not breakfast time.

Oh…la vie! How can I ever be homesick – people are just as lovely as they are in New York!? J !

Lesson #1 – I’m not sure it’s such a stellar idea to gorge yourself in London. This lovely little meal cost me about 12 english pounds – AKA – $26 US