Housewife Adventures

It has been my experience that in America, people of our generation no longer care if you have domestic skills. In fact, I would even go as far as to say that it is fashionable, even kind of like a proud act of feminism, to be the exact opposite of a 50's housewife. I mostly attribute this to Carrie Bradshaw from Sex in the City, who used her oven to store old issues of Vogue. I am gathering that this is not how it is in France. I have been randomly informed, multiple times and by multiple people, that there is a French proverb that says something about a woman who can cook is a woman who you can marry. 

Since I have lots of time on my hands, since Richard works 10+ hours a day (very un-French), and since my source of money is currently his credit card...I decided it would be nice if I could help out around the house. 

As with all other projects I have tackled in my life, I decided to dive right in. I spent one entire day while I was sick in bed online, looking up recipes to try and writing down ingredients. Like a good little French girl, I went to the market the next day and collected all the things I needed. When I actually got to the cooking part though, is when all the trouble started. I was so happy to be finding good, easy recipes in English that I forgot to think about the fact they are in American measurements, and everything here is in metric. Also, it was then that I realized that Richard has absolutely nothing to measure with. Nor does he have things like pots and pans. Anyway, I did what I could with what I had, and surprisingly my chicken piccata was not too shabby. (Thanks Pinterest! And adding loads of butter for no reason!) I made a giant list of things that would make my domestic life easier, and I waited all day on Friday for Richard to take me to one of the big Walmart-like stores after work. I was so excited!!! 

When we finally got there, I gleefully ran through the store like a little kid, straight to the cooking section. I scanned the shelves for a cookie sheet. Then I scanned again. I saw a lot of things I have never seen in my life, but I saw no cookie sheets. I also did not see any normal cake pans (only pans for Fancy french cakes,) cupcake pans (WTF is a Madeline?! It was the closest thing to a cupcake pan, but still not what I wanted,) or measuring tools (except for one dumb cup that supposedly had all the measurements on it, but turns out that it doesn't.) I was broken-hearted. I looked sadly at my long list of things that would make my life easier...if I lived in America. Richard put his arm around me and I hung my head as we walked towards the door.

On the way out, a man selling fancy cheese calls us over. A few swift movements of his ninja-like sword A.K.A. giant cheese knife, and we were tasting the "Best Comte in the World," which was accompanied with the "Best Ham in the World." I believe it really might be the best ham in the world, because the hunk of thigh or whatever part it was that he was slicing off of, cost about $1,000. Maybe the pigs were fed a strictly gold-laced grass diet. Anyway, we left not even minutes later with $100 worth of cheese and ham. Richard was really happy. Sigh. Only in France...

These are the things I learned from this experience: 

1. I am not a person with natural abilities in the kitchen. When I cook, it is pretty much an all day event...from finding a recipe that I need to follow word by word, then going to the market (since I can't drive, it is a 20 minute walk one way), and then converting the measurements of every. line. of the recipe...maybe one day it will get easier? 

2. There is no actual "Walmart-like" haven in Reunion Island. There are big stores that have slightly more than the little stores, but there is no one place that you can go to for everything. If you have specific needs, it is much more like a treasure hunt. You have to find the one place on the island that carries what you want. (Cookie sheets DO exist here!) Then you have to pay 3x the price you would pay for it in the States. 

3. If you can't find something that you want...this includes clothes, Mexican food, spices, pickles, or soft pretzels...you will have to figure out how to make it yourself. 

4. I also have no idea how to iron Richard's important work clothes. I will probably be spending all day on YouTube after I post this blog trying to figure it out.

The End.

(P.S. I tried to end this post with a picture of a young girl who was both fashionable AND a house wife, but appartently that doesn't exist. Yet.)