I could not find a boulangerie open on Saturdays (!), so I bought some day-old croissants at a small supermarket. And yes, I gave up quickly.

I am sure there are plenty of boulangeries open for business if you’re willing to search in an unknown neighborhood, but I was too hungry to continue looking for one. I thought about asking one of the locals on the street, but knowing how this would end, ” à droite…. à gauche…. encore à droite….”, I chose the easy way out.

Around 11am, we went to the nearby market to buy roasted chicken with potatoes, seafood, and cheese for lunch. Here are some impressions of a French market on a Saturday morning.

What looked like cantaloupe from a distance was actually 36-month old Dutch cheese called Mimolette. You could have fooled me. Even when wearing my glasses.

Aged Dutch cheese – Mimolette

Of course, the two Marylanders (my husband and his brother, a veteran Paris expat) had to get seafood for lunch.

Market in Suresnes, Paris

And yes, the French do eat horse meat. The stand offered chevaline (horse meat) and it looked pretty much sold out at 11:30am.

Horse meat at the market

At home, the big boys enjoyed their seafood lunch, while I had poulet rôti and potatoes for lunch. Can’t get the farm girl out of me.

So we saw some unusual cheese, the boys splurged on seafood, I stuck to the familiar poulet rôti, and horse meat was sold out. I love Paris.