As you may have guessed, my thoughts are slightly oriented towards the realm of travel right now. I thought I'd post a picture from my last trip to the continent, and since my stomach is growling, give a little snapshot of a memorable street food experience. The photo is of Rue Mouffetard, in the 5ième arrondissement. It was here I bought a copy of Fred Vargas' excellent Pars vite et reviens tard on T's recommendation. It was also here that I had my best crêpe experience while in Paris. Midway through a day of walking the Left Bank's literary trail, we started to find that our stomachs were growling. The Mouffetard farmer's market had drawn us all the way down the hill with promises of great selection but seemed to be having a rather anemic day. Nothing really appealed to us, and we wanted to try something different for a snack. During the climb back up the hill, we spotted a little place with an open window and a crêpe pan. A group of Macedonian men stood around, drinking, idly watching the footie game on the tv and giving their buddy, the crêpe maker, a hard time. Deciding that this looked promising, we leaned in to order our first crêpe salé. The guy working the pans, in between insults and vaguely lewd commentary from the peanut gallery, made us a crêpe stuffed with thick, tangy pieces of feta, sweet red peppers, onions and lettuce. It was exceedingly simple, but perfect for a snack in the hottest, laziest part of the day. I had a few more crêpes during my stay, but none were worth the bother, particularly the thoroughly regrettable jam-based monstrosity from a "ye olde breton crêpe"-type shack on tourist clogged Montmartre. And to think, I'll soon be just 14 hours away by train. Okay, back to work!