Do NOT Kiss Me When You Get Home Tonight!

It's been a couple of days and my wife still hasn't kissed me. More on that in a bit.

Parisians are known for taking longer-than-average lunches and I've really come to enjoy that custom. At my last job in the United States I had a full 60 minutes for my mid day meal, but the time wasn't strictly enforced... and the hours were very flexible. I often headed out at 11:30 AM to avoid the rush, while other people on my team wouldn't take their lunches until 1:30 PM or even later. (I think the poor folks in Customer Support only got 30 minutes for lunch.)

At Pretty Simple, our lunch period lasts from 12:30 PM until 2:00 PM, but while generous, those times are not negotiable, so there's no beating the long lines that can sometimes form at the most popular restaurants. Fortunately, there are so many places to eat in Paris it's easy to find a delicious meal that doesn't require a long wait.

On a sunny spring day last week I grabbed a salad with my Australian friend Steve, and we took our food down to the the Tuileries Gardens next to the Seine. We found a spot near a huge fountain, ate a leisurely lunch and by the time we finished we still had over half an hour to just sit back and enjoy the sunshine. Awesome!

A large fountain at Jardin des Tuileries (that's the Louvre in the distance)

On Friday, I accompanied Sebastien and Steve to try out a new Brasserie called Café Dalayrac. It was a bit chilly so we took seats inside.

I grabbed this picture off Google Maps, hence the blurred out faces

After a quick gander at their menu I noticed an item that is a french delicacy I have been wanting to try: andouillette. 

Before I continue there's something I need to explain. Upon arriving in Paris, as non-French speakers, Melanie and I discovered that a LOT of words are easy to decipher: the French "carotte", for example, is a carrot, a "docteur" here is a doctor. Want some soup? Look for the word "soupe" on the menu.

However, please be aware that "andouillette saucisse", despite how the name might appear, is NOT... I repeat NOT... the creole dish we Americans know as "andouille sausage". You have been warned.

A few months ago Steve and Deborah introduced us to an amazing French restaurant called Auberge Pyrénées Cévennes. Melanie had been planning to order the andouillette saucisse until Steve explained that it smells and tastes a bit like... well... poop.  (Melanie got the cassoulet instead, which was fortuitous because she fell in love with that dish!)

I used to be a finicky eater but anymore I LOVE to try new foods, so when I saw andouillette on the menu on Friday I knew I had to order it.  I texted Melanie: "just ordered some of that poop sausage. will let you know how it is".

She promptly texted back: "if that wasn't a typo do NOT kiss me when you get home tonight".

After a fairly long wait -- they don't just heat stuff up in the microwave at Café Dalayrac -- my meal arrived. Despite having a stuffy nose (bad cold) I could smell this sucker before the waitress even arrived at our table. Uh oh. What the hell had I gotten myself into?

Naturally, I was served first so I got to sit there and stare at my foul smelling fare for several minutes while waiting for the other meals to arrive.

Here's a picture of my plate. Strange, it doesn't LOOK like the bottom of a public outhouse...

My andouillette saucisse from Café Dalayrac

So what exactly was I about to eat?  I didn't find out until after I got home Friday night. According to Wikipedia: Andouillette is a coarse-grained sausage made with pork colon, intestines, pepper, wine, onions, and seasonings. True andouillette is rarely seen outside France and has a strong, distinctive odour related to its intestinal origins and components.

Finally, it was time to take a bite. I expected it to have the texture and firmness of a normal sausage. Nope. It was soft and a bit rubbery on the inside. In fact, the casing on the outside was there to hold in all the wiggly bits on the inside:

This is what andouiellette looks like on the inside

Fortunately, despite the horrific smell, it didn't taste all that bad. Unfortunately, it coated my tongue as I chewed, like I was eating mud or dirt.

The stone ground mustard was a nice pairing and when I mixed the sausage, mustard, and potatoes together I had a relatively palatable lunch that I was able to finish.  Steve is more gastronomically adventurous than me and he likes this stuff, so after I was done he asked for my opinion.  I told him, "If someone at a dinner party served it to me, I'd have no problem eating it. But I probably wouldn't order it off a menu again."

Last year I tried blood sausage (called "boudin noir" over here) and REALLY enjoyed that, so I'm still excited to try other French delicacies.  Hopefully, they will smell a little better.

Now, cross your fingers, I am going to try to steal a kiss from my wife while she's not paying attention...