A few of my favorite things.

Toulouse has great markets but the Sunday market at St Aubin is probably my favorite. Whether you're looking for local produce, smelly cheese, socks, ceramic cookware, flowers, live chickens and rabbits, empanadas, olives, mattresses, jewelry, wine, spices or buttons, St Aubin is the place to be.



The mix of people is equally as eclectic, drawing parents with strollers, hippies, the elderly and the homeless alike. As the weather starts to warm up, there tends to be live music and what the French would describe as a general bonne ambiance. There's even a grandfatherly type who plays his violin and lets the children join in on drums and xylophones and whatever else they can find. It's enough to make you appreciate that the local supermarkets are closed on Sunday; there's just no comparison!





















But since every day can't be Sunday, I'm off to our nearest neighborhood market at St Cyprien in search of trout, asparagus, new potatoes and the makings for fruit salad. I'll have to post about this little gem sometime soon, as it has its own appeal!

Is this normal?

So it's snowing here again this morning, no real accumulation to speak of, just lots of pretty flakes falling from the sky. Monsieur J and I bundled up to go to the market and are now back to the warm apartment with supplies to make a big pot of pureed vegetable soup, yum.

As we were walking, I noticed something unusual: every third person was carrying an umbrella. Male, female, young and especially old were all proudly brandishing their parapluies.

Correct me if I'm wrong, but I don't think Americans do this. I know we put on hats, gloves and scarves, but do we break out the umbrella for a few flakes?

I told Monsieur J about my latest discovery as we scurried along. I'm sure he was less than fascinated by my chosen topic of conversation, but he is kind enough to entertain me.

Being French, Monsieur J claims this is a perfectly normal behavior. I think his explanation went something like this: "no one likes getting hit in the face with cold snowlakes; therefore, the best solution is to carry an umbrella. Now that you mention it, I wish we'd thought to bring one too."

I confessed that as an American, I would feel simply ridiculous carrying an umbrella in the snow. Is it just me? Or do you all secretly carry one in case of snow and I'm just late to get the memo?

Snow day.

So I know all of you on the east coast have had more than enough snow to last you for years to come, but here in Toulouse an inch and a half is enough to slow down the whole city. No bus service means that Monsieur J is home for the day, an unexpected treat.

This morning we went to the covered market, Victor Hugo, for some indulgent grocery shopping. Three cheeses for a weekend raclette, charcuterie, potatoes, mushrooms, carrots and fresh sheets of LASAGNE.

True confession: I've never made homemade lasagne, probably because I rarely bother to buy fresh pasta and because I've always been too scared to boil large noodles. Cat's out of the bag.

But today I made Monsieur J inquire at one of the Italian stands, on the off-hand chance they might have sheets of lasagne behind the counter that they were not sharing in those display cases. As the daughter of James, I am a firm believer in the mantra, "it never hurts to ask."

No harm, indeed. We are now home with three sheets of fresh pasta and a fridge full of leftovers that I hope to combine into a real treat. You see, I love both varieties of lasagne. The cheesy, saucey, tomato-y kind and the lighter vegetarian-style ones. And yet, every time I sink my teeth into one or the other, something seems to be missing. I think I crave the best of both worlds: meat AND vegetable lasagne, what's a girl to do?

With an abundance of ragu sauce leftover from last night's dinner, a homemade rosemary artichoke spread, oven roasted tomatoes, arugula and goat cheese, I think today's freezing temperatures call for a culinary experiment: daring duo lasagne.

Here's the plan: a layer of meatsauce, a layer of artichoke and roasted tomatoes, a layer of arugula and goat cheese, and a final layer of meat sauce + parmesan. Doesn't that sound good? Or maybe it's just me... Then again, if I had room in the kitchen for this nifty jobber, maybe I wouldn't need to combine everything into one!