One thing I like about living in a big city is the little friendships you develop with people in establishments that you frequent. The fruit sellers in the marketplace, the bakers at the boulangeries, the harpist who plays every weekend on the steps of Sacre Coeur – these are the people who make Paris what it is.
When I studying abroad, I befriended one such person, an elderly man who sold fruit. It just so happens that my current apartment is minutes from his stand. I see him many days after I run as I buy whatever fruit or vegetables I want for the day. Often he and the other two older men who work with him (I think they really just hang out as there is hardly enough work in the small fruit stand to keep all three men busy) help me with my French, reminding me the names of all the vegetables. One time earlier this week someone texted me with a French word I had never heard, and it was my precious fruit stand man who helped me out with modern French slang,
I want to befriend the Quiche Lady. I am always drawn to the rue Mouffetard, a narrow cobblestone street near my building, crammed with markets and cafés, and bustling with life. My favorite destination along the rue Mouffetard is a little quiche restaurant named Mouffe Tarte. I go regularly to buy a slice of quiche and eat it in a nearby garden. So many wonderful flavors, ranging from artichoke and feta, to spinach and tomato, to my personal favorite, goat cheese and fig. I have deemed the pleasant chef and owner of this establishment the Quiche Lady and I want her recognize me when I come in, to chat with me. We started what I know will be a beautiful friendship when she confided in me that her personal favorite quiche, cheese and onion, won’t be available till later in the fall. I plan on eating quiche on a regular basis until our friendship is fully secure.