• James Eric Fristad

To Taste, to Dream

Updated: Dec 8, 2020

An idle afternoon here in my Idaho living room, slouched in comfy chair with my legs stretched across squished ottoman, wriggling toes in white socks. Thinking about restaurants. There are nearly 500 of 'em within what I'll call our planned inner-Avignon neighborhood, lots to choose from within a pleasant evening walking distance from third-floor apartment for the week. Likely we won't eat out often, but those several occasions will by definition be memorable.


This one looks interesting, down the Street of the Dyers a ways from us. And at ground level under our third-floor flat, is a pretty good Spanish restaurant. Or fare from India up an adjoining Rue. But another slice of the vacation-food story is this, that I truly enjoy exploring in French or Italian food markets. Or farmers market stalls for that matter. Not that I have the skill or experience to transform observed/purchased items, whose identities I can only guess at, into gastronomic marvels. But it's good to let my imagination go, to imagine what might appear on my plate if there were a good chef hidden in that AirBnB closet.



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