egg, yogurt, dill, cucumber, garlic, carrot, potato

Yesterday, as I sat in my Spanish class, it was all I could do to keep from laughing as my professor enumerated a list of things not to do, things that, today, fly in the face of social etiquette and basically make you look like a buffoon.

The first few were common knowledge to me, especially after growing up with my mother. “Don’t walk on other people’s feet, don’t spit on the ground, sit properly at the table, be à peu près clean….” (I especially love the à peu près — être à peu près propre — so stereotypically French, even if this stereotype is unfair and unfounded.)

And then she threw in this gem, with no idea of how ironic or strange it seemed to me. “Don’t eat in the street.”

My Future Amazing Race Partner is cracking up right now, if she’s reading this.

Americans have no problem with eating in the street. We do it all the time — smoothies, coffee, granola bars, pizza slices folded in half… I’ve even seen a woman eat an entire Tupperware container of pasta salad on the New York City Subway.

I’ve written about the distinction here before, about French people who glare or shoot a derogatory “Bon appétit” my way when they see me walking with a sandwich. I get it. I’ve stopped doing it. I even ate my tin-foil wrapped pork-loin-and-blueberry-chipotle sandwich sitting down in a chair in the lobby of my school today before getting on the métro, instead of eating it on my ride home. I understand that it’s considered poor form to eat in public in France, really, I do.

But not until this teacher included it with this list of other things, things that were so clearly rude to me, did I really understand how poorly French people view those who eat in the street. I was shocked… and then I realized — perhaps with even more surprise — that I’ve started to take offense when someone eats near me on the métro, when a sandwich is unwrapped and the smells of ham and mustard impregnate the air of the subway car. I still can’t really explain the logic in it; I don’t know why it offends me, just like I don’t know why being tutoied offends me… it just does. I can feel my entire body clenching up when I see someone pull a pre-wrapped lunch out of their bag as they perch on a strapontin; I wonder how they’re going to finish eating before changing stations at Montparnasse; I want to reach out to ignorant tourists shoveling Mezzo di Pasta into their mouths mechanically as they wait on the quai and tell them to at least sit down, please. People are watching you.

But I watched a man chewing absently on the line 10 tonight. He boarded at Mabillon with a Paul baguette, its quignon already ripped off, undoubtedly within moments of its purchase. He rode facing out instead of in, as though he had only committed halfway to riding the train at all. In the two minutes between Mabillon and Sèvres-Babylone, he ripped a small piece of crust from what was left of the several inches that protrude from the paper wrapper and ate it thoughtfully, in two methodically masticated bites. I know that that posed no problem to anyone, though I’m not entirely sure why.

What I do know is that I love the feeling of coming home, of dropping my bag and making dinner. I love sitting down with the Country Boy at the end of a long day, no matter how late I finally make it through the door, to eat something off a plate with a fork.

When I got home tonight, I made roasted carrots — TCB calls them “carrot fries” — with a yogurt-and-cucumber sauce and fried eggs, the final addition having been inspired by this entry over at Bridget‘s blog. It’s definitely not the sort of dish you could bundle up and take on the road with you, but then again, why would you want to?

Fried Eggs and Carrot-and-Potato Oven “Fries” with Cucumber-Dill-Garlic-Yogurt Sauce

1/2 small cucumber, grated
350 g. (~12 oz.) plain thick or Greek-style yogurt
salt
1 tsp. dill (optional)

~ 10 medium (50 g. e) carrots
1 large potato
3 cloves garlic, skin on
1 Tbsp. olive oil
salt

1-2 eggs per person

Grate the cucumber into a colander and add a pinch of salt. Allow to drain while you prepare the rest of the meal. (I do this step in the morning and leave it to drain all day, but it’s up to you.)

Combine the cucumber, yogurt, salt and dill, if you’re using it. Set aside.

Preheat oven to 230 degrees Celsius (450 degrees F). Slice the carrots and potato into “fries” — thin strips about 2-3 inches long. Toss with garlic cloves, olive oil and salt in a baking dish. Roast for about 40 minutes total, tossing once or twice for even browning.

When the vegetables are nearly cooked, fry the eggs. (I do this in a very small amount of boiling water instead of in butter, because I have an easier time getting them out of the pan. Please don’t judge me.)

Remove one of the garlic cloves from the vegetables. Peel and mash the roasted clove with a fork. Add to the yogurt sauce and stir to combine. Note: Sauce is also very good with a Paul baguette — that is, if you didn’t finish the whole thing on the métro.