So sometimes I feel bad when I am on my way to the Carefour market and I have to stop for a moment in front of the Subway and inhale a small taste of home. You all know that smell I'm talking about, right? It's the almighty Subway smell that was engineered to pull you away from whatever you thought you were going to eat or do at that moment and instead consume the Subway. You just can't escape it! How do they do it?

What I most enjoy about "the smell" is how it reminds me of one wonderful summer in which my good friend Maggie and I drove all over Wisconsin, Illinois, and Michigan working basketball camps. The lunch of choice? You guessed it: the Turkey sub, on wheat bread, extra pickles from Subway (followed up by an ice cream cone from the McDonald's). It was a fabulous lunch and easily found on the highways that took us from one Univeristy Girls' Basketball Camp to the next. Good times my friend, good times.
Thus, walking off the tram and heading to the market is sometimes briefly interupted by a quick sniff in front of the Subway. I'm back home again and Maggie and I are sucking down our extra large diet cokes and finishing off the last of our 6 inch. Not that I'm complaining or anything. I love where I'm living now and have never eaten so well in my life. The variety, the incredible tastes, the deliciousness! There are incredible sandwich shops that put The Subway to shame and I'm going to miss them terribly when this chapter of my life is over. But like any ex-pat living abroad will tell you, there's no place like home! The smells and all the other little things that remind you of that former life are small treats to savor once in a while. Even
if it takes the form of Subway.
if it takes the form of Subway. Now, granted, I have much fonder, better smelling memories of home than Subway but sometimes we have to take what we can get while living over here. For example, my good friend treats her and her family to a night out at The Hard Rock Cafe Paris once a month to get their greasy American fix. Another friend treats herself to breakfast once in a while at Breakfast in American here in Paris. And although I have yet to breakdown and visit either establishment, I was weakened today but a slice of carrot cake and rice crispy treat at the Sugarplum Cake Shop as my taste of home. How could you, you may ask, indulge in American style sweet treats when you have a delicious pan au chocolate at every corner? Well, we all have our weaknesses and mine is sugar in any form. (Did I mention that they also serve American coffee? Fresh roasted I might add.) We also shared a piece of chocolate cake that had this caramel frosting that floated off the cake and into my mouth. Plus, English was spoken and I didn't have to think and calculate my order in french before reaching the counter. I could mindlessly eat my delicious treats and even ask for more coffee! It was outstanding! Oh, and the little people weren't disappointed either! :)







