My Poor Cheeses

I bought the most delicious and stinky-looking cheeses for my lunch the other morning at the Rue Raspail open market. The rinds were all black and moldy, and they smelled great, so I left them in the fridge until lunch time. When I went back to get them, they were gone.

Turns out the Polish nun, who's a cleaning maniac and the one who walked in on me while I was sleeping, thought they were old, moldy cheeses and threw them away. I couldn't even get mad, I mean, she was almost right, except that these were "new" moldy cheeses.

It was sad. I ended up having just plain baguette and a palmier for lunch, with nothing to complement the carbs. And now I have to wait until next Sunday to get more cheese.

Pont des Arts

Last night I was meeting Clementine for dinner and, after looking at my trusty map, decided to take the Pont des Arts across the Seine and up to Les Halles, where I was meeting her in front of St. Eustache Church. The weather was really warm, and when I got to the bridge it was packed with people hanging out and having picnics. Next time I'm bringing a basket.