So, I finally found it: a chocolate chip cookie recipe that turns out fluffy cookies that stay fluffy and chewy even when cooled, rather than becoming as crunchy as a potato chip and flat as a crepe as soon as they cool. However, while pleased with the texture of these cookies, I found that they lacked flavor. That great caramel taste that I love so much was lost in this recipe. So, all in all, this isn’t THE ONE, the perfect chocolate chip cookie. So, my search for the perfect recipe continues, but next time I need a recipe for cookies that puff and hold their form, these are a good choice.
 |
| The fluffy chocolate chip cookies
(The day they came out of the oven there were 50, the next day by
lunchtime, there were 4. I guess that means they were well liked) |
And, a funny story regarding this “Eureka I’ve found it” reference. So, if you’ve known me very long, you know I have a major tendency to get songs stuck in my head, and I remember them forever. I went through a period of singing the songs from RCTC’s Peter Pan which I wasn’t even in, just because I had been to the show a few times to watch my brother while my mom did volunteer hours. I learned the songs for school musicals and could still sing every word three years later. So, this little reference is from my third grade school play about American history and as I thought of the title, I immediately started singing the song in my head, incredibly surprised at how much I remembered of “Eureka, I’ve found it, and it’s been worth the wait. Eureka I’ve found it, this is the golden state!” So, now I have this stinking happy third grade musical song completely stuck in my head, and if you know me, you know that once I have a song stuck in my head, I sing it under my breath uncontrollably at almost all times and it doesn’t leave until I get a new song into my brain.
So, now on the the vacation recap. The first days of break were low key and we didn’t do too much. There was spring cleaning and painting going on (Vincent and Marie completely repainted the bedroom of the little ones.) Each of the 4 teenagers also prepared a meal. But, since we were more in a mode of use-up-the-leftovers-before-going-on-vacation, I didn’t end up doing much work. We bought ribs from the market next to the house, cooked up some couscous, and I made a salad. The only place I really did work was for dessert. I made chocolate chip lava cookies, which we ate accompanied by strawberries and topped with more melted chocolate. They were fabulous, and I don’t ever again need to buy an overpriced molten chocolate cookie sundae at a restaurant since I can easily make them at home.
 |
Molten Chocolate chip lava cookies, topped with melted chocolate and served with strawberries. Pure bliss.
|
On Tuesday of the first week of vacation, we took a day trip to Bruges, in Belgium. It is nicknamed “Venice of the North” because it is so beautiful. We got the the city, which was crowded with tourists, parked the car, and then set off to explore.
 |
The central square in Bruges.
|
 |
The little bear on the right side of the crest in on the building is the symbol of the city.
|
We walked around for a bit before stopping for a snack. In France, there is at least one bakery on practically ever corner. In Belgium, it is a chocolatier on every corner, and since this was a tourist town, it was more like 2 chocolate chops for each corner. We went to the most well-known one, and bought some chocolates to munch on as we continued strolling around.
 |
The
window display at the famous chocolate store. I didn't get any pictures
inside because it was too crowded with pushy tourists, but it was yummy
looking.
|
 |
Another
Chocolate shop. As you can see, things are geared toward the tourists,
since this sign is in English, not French or Flemish. To me, these
looked like giant chocolate rice crispy treats, but I'm not actually
sure what they were.
|
We briefly toured a cathedral, decided not to wait in line to climb the bell tower, and then headed off for lunch.
 |
This
is one of the few Michelangelo sculptures that is kept outside of
Italy, and one of the prize pieces of this cathedral. It's the virgin
Mary with baby Jesus.
|
Rather than eating at a restaurant in the main square (since we knew all of those restaurants would be tourist oriented) we found a tiny restaurant on a small side street. It was clearly a local shop, with its “regulars.” We arrived at 11:30 and there were still lots of people there with a cup of coffee and the newspaper eating their breakfast. The place was called “The Daily Bread” and it was all about...you guessed it: bread. There were also tons of jellies and spreads. The breakfast special was a couple of slices of bread and your choice of the jellies. But, since we were there for the lunch, the waiter kindly cleared away the jellies and left us with the menus. For lunch, it was all open faced sandwiches on the homemade bread. I had a chicken, mozzarella, grilled zucchini tartine, which was super yummy. And since it was a bakery, we had to get dessert, too. Since we were in Belgium, I decided to go for something with chocolate and chose a slice of chocolate tart. It was basically a chocolate overload: a brownie crust, topped with chocolate fudge filling, with chocolate ganache on top.
After lunch, we decided to do the famous boat tour on the canals. We rode all around the city, looking at the architecture and listening to the guide. We were in the Flemish part of Belgium, so the guide first said everything in Flemish, then in French, and then in English. But, his accent was so strong that I had to listen to both the French and the English to understand, because if I just listened to one or the other, I’d only understand about half. It started hailing on us about halfway into our 30 minute tour. We hid under one of the many bridges, but after waiting 10 minutes with no change in the weather, the guide just handed out umbrellas and we continued. (Sorry in advance for the excessive number of canal pictures, but it was just fun to get to see the city from the different angle of being on the water.)
 |
Waiting for the boat
|
 |
And we're off!
|
 |
My personal favorite picture
|
After the tour, we walked around some more, going to a former Béguinage(a place where nuns live together) and finishing the designated tourist walking tour. (Plus, of course, taking more pictures. Actually, to motivate my host siblings, my host mom said we were having a photo contest to see who could take the best photo and there would be a prize for the winner. So, my younger sister ran around the whole day with her new hot pink fancy camera that was her birthday present)
 |
So, we toured the town by boat, then walked next to the canals on foot and basically did the same tour again.
|
We finished off the day by going to a little café and getting Belgian Waffles before heading home. To be honest, I was not impressed with the famous waffles. They were nice and fluffy, but the inside was uncooked and gooey. Actually, I think that in all the time I have been here, I haven’t eaten a single waffle that I would say was sufficiently cooked through. I guess it just means I will appreciate my mom’s waffles even more when I get back and she makes them for me.
 |
Sorry,
my digital camera doesn't have a macro lens so it doesn't work very
well for close-up food photos. But, this is my attempt to photograph a
Belgian waffle bought in Belgium for you.
|
On Thursday, we started our trek across France. Everyone except my host dad loaded into the car, squished in with our suitcases, and we drove to Paris. In Paris, we dropped my host sister off at the train station where she caught a TGV to Toulouse. Then, we drove over to my host dad’s work and picked him up. We then headed off to drive 7 hours down to Toulouse, where my host dad’s parents live. Although my host sister’s train got in before us, we ended up arriving at the Grandparent’s house(about 45 minutes from Toulouse, in the countryside) before my host sister and the grandparents who had gone to get her. There had apparently been a big traffic jam, and since we had skirted the city, we got there first.
So, a quick note about freeways in France before continuing my talk about vacation. Here, you often have to pay to use the freeway. As long as there is a road that runs parallel to the freeway, you will most likely have to pay to be on the freeway. I’m not sure exactly how the system works, but every so often, we drove through toll booths(like when crossing a bridge) and our little machine went beep. I think it’s like a fastrak for the bay bridge, and the number of kilometers is recorded and your account charged.
So, my host grandparent’s house is literally a castle. It is way out in the countryside, surrounded by a forest and rolling hills. There are garlic crops and other fields as far as the eye can see. As we turned the corner, we see a sign pointing to the house: “Château de _______.” And it really is a castle. There is a gate blocking the access, and then a circular gravel driveway. I could almost imagine horse-drawn carriages pulling up for a party or something back in the old days. There is the main white house, with 13 full-sized windows in front.
 |
The main house
|
Then, on each side, forming a sort of “U” there are less nice building that used to be servant and farmer’s quarters. They now serve as garages for the cars and tractors and apartments for my host dad’s siblings.
 |
On
the right you see the building that has been made into apartments for
when my host dad's siblings and their families come to visit. During the
summer, my host family is going to spend 3 weeks with the grandparents,
and the other siblings come often too. I can tell that this family
really enjoys spending time together.
|
There is a pool(in need of a gate which my host siblings and dad built during the week) and a tennis court(not in great shape right now but the refurbishing is on the plan for the summer), as well as a small garden where they grow salad and tomatoes and things. And it is completely surrounded by a a forest. My host siblings were often outside helping cut wood or clear out fallen trees in the woods.
 |
Oh no, who gave that girl a hatchet? Actually, Marie chopped so hard she broke the hatchet.
|
 |
The
little one's favorite part was going for rides on the big tractor. And
my host brother lived driving it too, so it was a win win situation.
|
Days were slow-paced and relaxing, with the only real meeting times being meals. Everyone sort of did their own thing. Days always began with breakfast, each person getting up when they wanted and people sort of cycling through the kitchen.
 |
My
host grandma makes homemade jellies and jam, and the pantry was
completely full. We had the choice of multiple jams each morning on the
multiple choices of local, fresh bread.
|
The lunch and dinner meals were long and fun, with multiple courses and cheese platters with local cheeses. Plus we often had desserts, whether it be my homemade cookies or bakery cakes or my host sister’s chocolate strawberry tart or store bought cookies and yogurt.
 |
When
we had good weather, we ate outside. Looks like we were eating in a
local park, huh? Except with all the comforts of having the kitchen just
5 steps away. The only problem: we couldn't leave the cheese platter on
the table for more than 5 minutes or the creamy cheese would become a
giant puddle on the platter.
|
I did some really fun things during the trip, although I have to admit that I got really bored at times. I went one day to the big market with my host mom to buy produce. There were tons of stands selling local stuff, like olives and garlic. And then there were the cheese trucks. Some sold multiple kinds of cheese, while others were dedicated to a certain type, like only goat cheeses. We even ordered freshly-made pizzas from the little truck with an oven in it. So then, of course, we were forced to kill 20 minutes wandering around while waiting for them. Which meant more time to explore.
 |
The
big outdoor market place. A lot of the stands were under that roof, but
there were too many, so they were spread out all over the surrounding
streets as well.
|
 |
As
you can see, they were selling chickens. There were even cages with
pigeons. It almost felt like the county fair with all the poultry in
cages.
|
 |
The olive stand, one of the local specialties
|
Another evening, I went to a professional soccer game with my host brother, host dad, and host grandpa. It was #1 Montpellier vs #7 Toulouse. Montpellier scored in the 2nd minute and then it was 0-0 for the rest of the game. So, it wasn’t the most exciting match of the century, but it was still cool. Rather than going into all of the gory soccer details which I’m sure most of you don’t care about, here’s a few cultural points. Firstly, there were way less treats than in the USA. In the states, the main reason most kids go to a professional baseball of football game is to bug their parents the whole time to get a ballpark treat. Here, there was maybe one snack bar for each three sections. And all they sold were 4 types of sandwiches, french fries, a few candy bars, and drinks. But, the sandwiches were actually really good, and not that overpriced either. Secondly, there were practically no souvenir shops. I was planning to try to pick up something silly to bring home, but even though we walked past at least 10 sections of the stadium, no souvenir shops. Thirdly, the bathrooms were absolutely disgusting. I’ll never think badly of US ballpark bathrooms again. These were a stall, but then just a hole in the ground that fed to a little pipe. Finally, I’m not sure what the rule is in US soccer stadiums, but here, they weren’t allowed to show the fouls on the replay board because it could have caused controversy if the referee had made a mistake.
 |
Here's
the stadium before the game started. Once the game had begun, it filled
up quite a bit, but there were still plenty of seats. We had good,
close-up seats because everyone was afraid of rain so had bought seats
further back to be sure that they would be under the cover. We were
lucky it didn't rain, since we were right on the edge.
|
We went on a hike one day, starting from a little village. At first, I thought we were hiking into the wilderness, away from houses and cars. We hiked for a few hours, and then suddenly our hiking path crossed a road. And, we saw houses all around. We had arrived at a lake with secondary residences surrounding it, and lots of people fishing. We ate lunch at the lake, before heading back down the mountain. On the way down, my host siblings went ahead of us, which my host parents didn’t worry about because there were signs on the trail and the kids had a map. But, eventually we called them to ask if they wanted to wait for us. They said “ok,” and we hiked for 10 more minutes before we started to feel a little uneasy, like “Shouldn’t we have caught up by now.” We called them again as we arrived at our hike’s starting point. It turned out they had made a wrong turn a were a full 5 km from where we had started. We ended up having to take the car to get pick them up.
 |
The
lake where we ate our great lunch of sandwiches made on freshly bought
baguettes and cheese we had brought, followed by cookies for dessert.
|
 |
This
was an enclosure for a family of goats at the beginning of the hike. But, somehow these two little
ones found a way to get out but couldn't get back in. They walked along
the outside while the mom called to them from the inside. I'm sorry to
say that I cannot report on the fate of those two little goats because
we had to go to the rescue of my lost siblings.
|
Another afternoon, I went with my host parents and grandparents to a medieval town to go to a museum. It was super weird to think about the fact that the town was completely built before the Americas were even discovered by Europeans. But, obviously civilization had to exist before the united states were discovered or who would have sent the ships? We visited a cathedral constructed almost entirely in bricks, rather than in stone. It was much more simple than the others I have seen, because there wasn’t any carving in the brick, as compared to the stone cathedrals covered with carved-in statues. The museum was interesting, too. We went to see a certain exhibit about a painter. It was funny for me because in each room of the exhibit, there were laminated papers that told the story of the painter’s life at the time of the paintings, and explained certain pictures. And each time, there were plenty of papers in spanish, english, and german, but none in french. When I did find in french, I would read in french, but as soon as I put it back, someone would anxiously snatch it up. I felt guilty reading in english, but at the same time, I felt guilty taking a paper in french while there were others who needed the french, and I could take the english.
 |
The all brick cathedral.
|
 |
The beautiful town looking down onto the river.
|
 |
A village on the hillside. They were built like this to be safer again invasions.
|
 |
I've got to say it: I absolutely love this picture,
|
Another day, we cleaned out one of the many attics of the house, this one filled with old books. We made an assembly line to carry tons of books down three stories of stairs. We then sorted them out in front of the house. I think my host grandma had about 10 years of national geographic magazines stored up in that attic. We put them in the car and drove them away.
 |
| My little host brothers love playing in the car, so they were extra excited that we had taken the backseats out and they had more room to play. Of course, they weren't too happy when all of the extra space was taken up by books. |
On Saturday, we loaded up the car once again, left my naughty host brother behind(just kidding, he was taking the airplane the next day since there wasn’t enough room in the car) and headed back home. We got home with just enough time to unpack the car, eat dinner, and then settle in to watch The Voice. Actually, it was a good thing my brother took the airplane home the next day, because my host dad left his wallet in the kitchen at his parents’ house, and without it, he couldn’t have voted in the election on Sunday.
So, the 2nd and final round of the election is finished. The winner was François Hollande, the socialist candidate and the challenger. The voting was on Sunday, and the 2nd round is always the first sunday in May. During the week of vacation, there was a debate. It was quite different from the American presidential debates. First of all, there was only one, rather than the many in the USA. Secondly, both candidates were in dark suits with a white shirt and a dark tie, rather than the reds and blues symbolic of republicans and democrats. The colors are apparently symbolic here too, but the candidates chose to wear “presidential, non-partisan” outfits. And, considering that one of the big themes discussed was partisanship and how the new president would need to “regroup” the french people, it was probably a good choice. The debate took place in a tiny TV studio, with just the 2 candidates face to face across a table and then the 2 TV journalists that were controlling the debate. The journalists’ only jobs were to make sure the candidates got approximately equal speaking time and to make sure they didn’t spend the entire debate on one theme but moved through the multiple planned ones. Beyond that, it was mostly just the candidates talking to/attacking each other. There was no live audience, but there were apparently about 18 million tele-spectators at the peak. The debate didn’t start until 9:00 pm and then continued without stop until about 11:45 pm. We planned to all watch the debate together (host parents, host grandparents, older host siblings, and me) so we all ate dinner early and then settled in to watch. I managed to watch from start to finish, understanding probably as much as I would have understood had it been in english, only getting really confused when they started in on the economy and tons of statistics and terms that I didn’t understand for measuring economic growth. The debate was very free flow, so different from the American versions with exactly 2:30 for a response for each candidate per question and then a timed rebuttal and all of the structure. Here, the candidates interrupted each other, talked over each other, insulted each other...at points it was just funny. There was one moment when one candidate asked the other a question to which he didn’t want to respond and they went back and forth with “Answer it” “No” “Answer it” “No” until finally the one responding said “Look, I’m not your student, you aren’t my teacher.” In my opinion, the journalists controlling the debate didn’t really do their job, but at the same time, the candidates didn’t respect them. They would try to make them stop interrupting to let one candidate catch up on his time, but the other would interrupt again after 30 seconds. They would try to ask them to move to a new theme, but the candidates would say “Just one more phrase about _______” and then they would continue 5 more minutes on said theme.
The newspapers the day after the debate broke down the speeches, judged people’s reactions, and pulled out certain quotes. I read a few articles, and I found that I really agreed with what most of them said, even though I really can’t say I care that much. But I noticed a lot of the same things the journalists did: Sarkozy spent the majority of the time speaking to the TV studio journalists, or to his hands, but often refused to look Hollande in the eyes. Hollande did a fair amount of interrupting, much more than Sarkozy, to a point that it became a bit ridiculous that he couldn’t even finish a sentence. Sarkozy didn’t ever really explain his propositions for the next 5 years if elected, since he had to spend much of the debate defending what he had done during his previous term. They spent a lot of time arguing about economic statistics and accusing each other of lying, when they were just using different criteria. They argued loads about Germany and its economic principals to the point that it felt like a debate about Germany at times. They didn’t ever really address the issues that people cared about, but instead focussed on the economy in general(not really proposed solutions) and nuclear, just barely touching immigration and the only international issue discussed was the withdrawal of French troops from Afghanistan. The articles tended to agree in saying that the debate didn’t really help anyone decide. Those people already decided felt that their candidate had blown the other one out of the water. And those people undecided turned off the TV just as ambivalent about their vote for the 2nd round as when they had turned it on to watch the debate.
So, I’ll finish off this section about the election with something nerdy and philosophical that I noticed while watching the debate, but which I’m sure applies elsewhere as well. Having heard my host mom talk politics with her mom a few weeks before the first round, and having gone to the voting office with my host dad for the first round, I knew their political opinions and which candidate they supported. Just with those two little points and the comments I had been hearing them make, I found myself immediately drawn toward said candidate during the debate. I found myself looking to find fault with the other and see him as right. I found myself not listening to what they said but how they said it as I looked for aggressiveness in the “less favorable” candidate. I mean, here I was, a 16 year old american, having never even fully read their printed statements and I was already internally “rooting for” one candidate over the other. If my host parents and the atmosphere around me just for the few weeks leading to the election could influence me so strongly, what does that tell us about the influence our parents have on us overall. I mean, look at going to the grocery store. If I go with my mom and she sends me to get the peanut butter, I’ll grab the jar of Skippy just because that’s what we always have. It’s tradition. I think our parents have a strong influence over our education choices just from what they say offhandedly throughout our childhood, the sweatshirts we see hanging in the closet, or the specific football games we watch. As we get older, we have more freedom to make decisions for ourselves, but our we really the ones making the decision? Entering middle school, we might have free rein over what we wear to school rather than our parents laying out our clothes for us, but aren’t we still influenced but what brands or styles our parents wear? I mean, do we really make these decisions for ourselves or are we just becoming the outlet of our parents. Rather than them openly making the decision for us, they might just inadvertently influence us to the point that we just make the same choice they would have made, whether to avoid disappointing them or because there influence has touched us so deeply that we actually believe what we are doing. So, bringing this all back to the elections. Is 18 really old enough to vote? A fair number of 18 year-olds still live at home and are subject to the influence of their parents 24/7. Even before doing their research on the candidates and reading the propositions, these teenagers have most likely been hearing their parents’ opinions. As they read or watch the debates, I’m guessing they have preconceived notions that are hard to shake and obtain objectivity, just as I did in watching the debate knowing basically nothing about either candidate going into it. I should have been the perfect objective observer, seeing as how I didn’t really know each candidate’s position, I should have been able to fairly judge their performances during the debate. But, I found myself unable to see them in an even light just because of a comment here or there tossed around in my host family’s home. So, to my teenage friends out there, next time you are facing a decision, stop just for a moment and think, “Am I the one actually making this choice, or am I just following my parents?” Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying parental influence is a bad thing. Obviously, if growing up hearing your parents make bad remarks about drugs keeps you away from them too, that’s wonderful. But just make sure to actually pay attention. With age and freedom to make decisions comes the responsibility to actually think.
Well, that’s it for this really long update. I have five weeks of school left, lots of tests coming up, and I head off to French National School Handball championships this coming Wednesday afternoon. Should be a busy week.