I love France.
More specifically, I love eating in France.
Last night, the lovely lady and I went to what is known as one of the best crêperies in Paris - conveniently in our neighborhood - and proceeded to chow down on some fantastic crêpes and brilliant Brittany cider, all relatively dirt cheap. We were in gustatory heaven. In fact, for the second time in a few months, I vowed my undying eternal love. This time to the poached pear enveloped in dark chocolate sitting atop my crêpe.
But as great as the food is here, I still miss some things from America that you just can't get here. Like Crunch Cheetos. Or Bacon-wrapped hot dogs. In fact, I was so lamenting the absence of quasi-legal bacon dog carts the other night, that I wrote a glowing review on Yelp, honoring the proud men (and one woman) who walk the streets of San Francisco and Los Angeles late at night, alleviating the hunger pangs of drunks in the wee hours, one bacon-wrapped piece of sweet relief at a time.
Sure, the drunk food here is great. Like in much of Europe (and other places where drunkenness is a pastime, like Australia) you can easily pick up a dodgy but satisfying kebab after the bars and clubs let out. Paris has the added bonus of late night crêpe stands, and if you're in the right part of town, French onion soup available in those late, desperate hours. Alas, nowhere in this cornucopia of inebriated sustenance is there a trace of bacon.
Like many other times, though, my prayers have been answered by the company cafeteria. They've not only served me barbecued ribs, wedge potatoes, and coleslaw when I was at my homesick worst, but now they've served up - you guessed it - a bacon-wrapped hot dog.
I shit you not.
Ok, so it's not the 2 a.m. Undocumented Immigrant Special covered in grilled onions I so craved. But it's a big, fat hot dog (or Alsace sausage as they all it here) and melted cheese, all wrapped in - wait for it - American-style smoked bacon.
Don't believe me? The French have even given this dish a fancy name: Cervelas d'Alsace, though I think "bacon-wrapped hot dog" more properly reflects this dish's proletarian roots.