Apparently when one’s “new experience” allotment is full, flooded even, one becomes a less open person. At least, this is my observation of my near-13-year-old son. Back in the States, he had seemed fairly adventurous. He liked trying new recipes, new restaurants, and visiting new places. Somehow, I thought that would translate equally here in France.
Not so much.
Now, a ham sandwich on a baguette looks too foreign, as do all the other sandwiches in the patisserie case. (I admit to being a tad disappointed when my poor ordering skills got me the tuna and egg salad baguette instead of the ham and egg salad I was trying for, although I actually think that may have been confusion on the cashier’s part.) But the croissant still looks like a croissant, and tastes even better. It has become lunch. The burger at the hotel restaurant is too French, with aoli mayo and grilled peppers and onions. At breakfast, the eggs have parsley in them, the chocolate muffin has a molten chocolate center, and the sausages seem undercooked. All very disappointing under the current circumstances, when in another place I am not sure they would have been set aside. And I have no doubt my son is losing weight!
So we decided to give the Tournefeuille McDonalds a try. Now, Theodore is not a fan of McDonald’s even back in Kansas. Oh, he’ll eat there, but he’d rather go lots of other places. But he went to this one prepared to be disappointed.
Actually, he conceded that the flavorfully salted steak fries were quite good, and much better than traditional fries at home. He ordered just a plain hamburger, but the nuggets look promising, so next time he will probably get one of each.
I think the French would be highly disappointed if they came to visit the States and ate at a McDonalds. The food tasted fresh and, while not grand cuisine, still better than McDonalds back home. Stoney got a Charolais burger, which came on a ciabatta bun. He also got a side salad, which you can see was fresh greens. Theodore concedes the soda pop here seems better everywhere we go. I suspect the use of real sugar, rather than high fructose corn syrup. My burger was good, with some kind of thousand islandy dressing with a hint of horseradish, and lettuce and tomato. Some mayo-based sauce was given us, probably in lieu of ketchup for the fries.
The best thing in my mind was the automated ordering kiosks, which had an English option, and allowed for ordering meals or individual items. Unfortunately, although our swiped American credit card got us into the kiosk ordering system, it couldn’t take payment off that non-chipped card, so we still had to pay with euros to the non-English speaking cashier. Definitely a good experience for us, though. And I think it let our son relax a little, knowing he CAN eat here if he wants to.