Old eating habits die hard

PARIS — In an attempt to learn more about and fully embrace the French culture, each weekend I’ve been trying to do something I’d only be able to do in Paris.

Of course the options are nearly endless, and just walking down the street and ordering a baguette could qualify, so I try to make sure it’s a bit more special and culturally stimulating than that.

Last weekend, instead of grabbing a crepe and seeing a new French film in the cinema, I bent the rules a little and decided to make tacos, watch an American movie on my computer and the next day eat at Breakfast in America.

You would be surprised what foods you start to desperately crave when you’re far away from home. I knew a lack of Mother Bear’s would be my downfall, but I never expected to miss Old El Paso taco mix.

There is actually a lot of food I am desperately missing here in Paris. I thought I could substitute cravings for certain foods with other equally delicious food which I could easily find in Paris.

Unfortunately, I was wrong.

When you’re looking for a Spinoccoli pizza and a fountain coke, there’s really nothing that can take their place.

Even more so than pizza, I am astonished at my ability to go this long without my daily coffee dosage. In the States, my daily ritual begins with coffee – at least two cups a day. But since living in Paris, I have suddenly stopped drinking coffee almost cold turkey – and not because I’m trying to cut down on my caffeine intake.

I just can’t drink the decaf my host mom offers me every morning, and I don’t really want to go to a café and dish out 4 Euros ($5.36) for coffee with milk every morning.

Of course there’s a machine that vends little shots of espresso in the building where I take class, but frankly it’s just a little too strong for me.

Hoping to forget about my old reliances, and making up for my lack of cultural excursions last weekend, I decided to see an artsy French film, took an introductory ballet class and visited Giverny, a small town an hour and a half from Paris where Claude Monet’s house and gardens are located.

Unfortunately, the movie was missing some buttery popcorn, and waking up early to travel to Giverny was painful sans caffeine.

So my cravings are still lurking unsatisfied in the bottom of my cheese-and-baguette-filled stomach, and I still fantasize about ordering delivery pizza.

Until I return home in two months and gain a couple pounds from gorging myself on the foods I’ve been missing, maybe I can find some solace in overpaying for a fountain coke at the McDonald’s down the street.