French Food

boulangerieParis is famous for its food, and rightly so. France gave birth to haute cuisine, and is responsible for what some think of as the most sophisticated cooking in the world. Food and cooking occupies an enormously elevated place in the French culture, and the cult of cuisine extends across a range of demographics and of price points. I have eaten many fantastic meals in Paris, and most of them cost under thirty euros. For me, however, the real culinary treasures of Paris can be found in its markets and grocery stores.
I love to cook, and the difference between the quality of the ingredients available to me in Paris, and those in the US, is enormous. The freshness and taste of even the simplest products is often remarkable. The dairy here is fantastic, and I find myself going through an alarming amount of butter a week. Because the standards here are much higher, products that might be considered gourmet or specialty items in the States are standard stock in Parisian grocery stores. Going to the local Monoprix is a pleasure here, and an almost daily ritual; I can usually count on finding something new and exciting, like a gourmet yogurt or a dozen quail eggs.
The street markets that spring up around Paris are also wonderful. There is something magical in the stalls filled to overflowing with produce, and the crowds of people and the calls of the merchants give the whole experience a festive air. I walk from stall to stall, overstimulated and a little incredulous. In America, markets like this are often colored by an element of self-consciousness, and couched within a broader context of Walmarts and luxury organic goods. In Paris, such scenes are so totally authentic, so completely normal, that they feel unfamiliar to me. I expect cheerful hippies and live folk music, and strolling so casually through a Parisian market feels like taking a step back in time.
For all of the quality and range of food available in grocery stores and markets, however, these only exist within a relatively limited scope. The element of diversity is for the most part absent, and true variety, not of brand but of type of food, is hard to find. Most American grocery stores are designed to accommodate a broad spectrum of cuisines and dietary needs. In the produce aisle, for instance, one can easily find five or six types of onions, ranging from Spanish to sweet. Here, only two kinds seem to exist: red and white. Likewise, products typical to Asian or Hispanic cooking are scarce here, and even relatively familiar items, like black beans for example, are almost impossible to find in Paris.
More recently, the culinary face of France has begun to change. Asian food is considered chic—especially le sushi—and Mediterranean food is also fairly available. One can find a limited range of Asian grocery items and prepared foods at the grocery store, though these are typically watered down, Frenchified interpretations. If you are willing to do the research, you can eat superb Southeast-Asian food in Paris, and most cuisines are represented to one degree or another. This is not to say, however, that these offerings will be any good; it is widely acknowledged that French-Indian food is barely edible, and I have been too afraid to even give Mexican food a try.