After so many busy museums and galleries, we spent Tuesday with an American guide who showed us some of his favorite neighborhoods. We probably walked more today than any other day, but it was noticeably more mellow without the stress of navigating the touristy attractions.

After learning some Parisian history, we had falafel sandwiches — the guide kept bragging that Lenny Kravitz ate there… you know, in case you wanted to know where Lenny Kravitz got his falafel. It was delicious, but it made my sweet tooth ache, so we stopped off for some hot chocolate for dessert. This was the most unusual and most amazing hot chocolate I’ve ever had. It was pretty thick while still being drinkable, unlike the drinking chocolate I’ve had, which had more of a pudding consistency. And it wasn’t sweet. Just great chocolate flavor. It was pretty perfect, so the only bad thing I can say about it was that the weather was a little warm for hot chocolate.

I will try to be brief about the Louvre. It’s just… big. Too much to see, too many people. The first few minutes are exciting because it’s such a spectacle, but once I actually tried to enjoy the contents of the museum, I blew my fuse pretty fast. The only way to stay sane in such a huge building is to pick one hall of one wing of one section to specialize in. We briefly glanced at some of the big names (Mona Lisa, Venus de Milo, etc) then proceeded to an area of French paintings that was more secluded upstairs in the museum.

I have a question. Did French woman not wear clothes in real life, or are they just painted that way? Seriously, 90% of the paintings in the French rooms are naked women. I’m not complaining, I just need help distinguishing between art and history. Were the paintings intended to be sexual, or did the subject normally wear lingerie?

After seeing so much old art, I have begun debating what type of art to commission for myself. Would I look better as a marble bust, or as a giant oil painting? If I went with a bust, I think I should wait until I have better defined facial features and longer hair. If I choose a painting I would need to further decide whether my wife would join me (and if she would be wearing any clothes, for the sake of authenticity) or whether it would be a solo portrait.

To conclude our week in Paris, we took a cooking class. While we shopped for ingredients at the local market, I learned everything I know about cheese. We also enjoyed free samples, which has a different meaning in France than America. We think of a free sample as something that a geriatric microwaves and serves in a paper cup at Costco. In France, they served the most delicious gourmet fresh food as we passed the stalls.

As part of the introduction to the recipe, our instructor explained that this meal would be a good thing to cook at the end of a long say if you just want something simple. After all, people who work don’t always have time to prepare extravagant French cuisine on a daily basis. We split into four pairs to cook the same dish, eager to learn a French recipe that we could use to impress our friends.

Don’t get your hopes up, friends. After five hours of complete confusion, the four groups had quite different variations of the identical recipe. Nobody knew which was correct, so we threw them all together and called it a day. The asparagus with cheese sauce in puff pastry was tasty. The chicken in cream sauce was less tasty, but I’m not much a fan of drenching my meat in cream sauce. Neither was worth the five hour process, that’s for sure.

Not sure how to sum up the week in Paris. People warned me that French people aren’t very friendly, and I would say that was confirmed for the most part. The landmarks and history in the city are remarkable. The food didn’t meet my high expectations. I’m very happy that I experienced Paris in my lifetime, but I’m not in a hurry to return. I have my trademark Eiffel Tower photos, now all I need is to figure out a way to get more cheese, baguettes, and pastries in my life.