An American eats in Paris

PARIS – Ordering food in France is a job within itself.

I recently took a weekend trip to Paris and was excited to indulge in all the great food that I had heard about. The options were endless when it came to the variety of pastries and crepes.

But no one ever talks about how hard it is to order food when you don’t know any French.

My first rendezvous with food happened within hours of arriving in France. Panic quickly set in when my friend and I realized the menus weren’t translated into English.

The world looked a bit different once I realized it does not revolve around English speakers.

We did what any American would do – we walked into a restaurant that had a huge Coca-Cola bottle painted outside of it.

Walking in, we were optimistic. We got a slap of reality when our waiter did not speak any English. We suddenly became mute.

After studying the menu for what seemed like hours, I still didn’t know what anything meant.

The waiter came back looking annoyed at the fact that we hadn’t found a way to communicate with him. In a moment of panic, I ordered a random item on the menu and a Coca-Cola.

When the food came out, I was proud of my selection. It turned out to be some kind of meat that tasted like chicken and french fries. But my satisfaction quickly went sour, realizing a lot of meat tastes like chicken.

Luckily, things got better after my first food experience.

Eventually we managed to find places that had translated menus. I learned that french fries are a must when it comes to a meal, even if it is dinner. At one restaurant, I ate roasted chicken with fries for dinner.

But my frustration didn’t end. A day into the trip, all I could manage to say in French was merci (thank you) and fromage (cheese).

Although the meals were an upgrade from London’s cuisine, I found comfort in the sweets. Paris has been established as the capital of crepes in my book. Vendors selling the soft pancake-like treat filled with Nutella were on every corner.

My first crepe was from a vendor near the Eiffel Tower. It was filled with Nutella and bananas. The divine treat was even sweeter when I discovered that it only set me back a few euros.

One crepe just wasn’t enough. I got the second one during my last day on the trip. This time I opted for a Nutella-only crepe, and although it didn’t have any fruit, it was still just as delicious.

I also tried a millefeuille pastry, which has many layers of fillings, from a local bakery. I was surprised how cheap this piece of art they called a pastry was. It was a great experience until half of it fell onto the dirty concrete floor.

My last food experience was at a deli where I attempted to perform the simple task of buying a sandwich. One worker finally asked me if I knew English. I eagerly replied yes and proceed to tell him my order in English.

Unfortunately, his English was limited, and ordering was a disaster.

If Paris has taught me anything, it’s that I need to learn how to speak more languages, and that I can never go wrong with any kind of crepe.