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A year in a French market: Bachelorette cooking (or not)
By Ann | July 8, 2009

My husband, CK, left for a year-long stint in Baghdad three months ago (actually, 83 days — but who’s counting?). I have to admit that after all the dread, being solo isn’t as bad as I’d feared. Of course, I miss him like a major organ — there’s no one to hold my hand at the dentist’s office, no one to read newspapers with in the Jardin du Luxembourg on a sunny Saturday, no one to cook for. There’s also a nagging undercurrent of worry tugging constantly upon my consciousness. But with my new job, window-box garden, forays to the market, freelance articles, and twitter updates all keeping me busy, I must confess that Paris isn’t exactly the worst place to be stranded.
The funny thing about living alone after eight years of companionship is how quickly one reverts right back to those old bad, bachelorette habits. Why bother folding the laundry when the dryer is a perfectly acceptable underwear drawer? Do I really need to do the dishes after dinner every night? And, speaking of dinner, why eat it at the table, when the TV (or computer) is so much more companionable?
And then there is the question of exactly what I am eating. Which, in recent weeks, can be summed up in one word: Sandwiches.
Yes, this self-proclaimed food enthusiast, who has the remarkable luck to live for a small window of time in Paris, has basically stopped cooking. Please don’t stone me.
As it turns out, I don’t really like cooking without an audience. Plus, the recent soaring temperatures haven’t exactly made the kitchen the most hospitable room in the house. But still, a girl has to eat, which is where the sandwiches come in. I really prefer them toasted and melty, but when it’s 90ºF outside, I prefer not to turn on the broiler. But now that it’s tomato season (as evidenced by the gorgeous specimens in the photo above), I decided to take a page of out the book of my Spanish friend, Susana, and make pan con tomate, or tomato bread.
I ate this throughout Spain, but it never occurred to me to make it at home, until I visited Susana a few weeks ago. As it turns out, it’s easy and delicious — and the only “cooking” involved is toasting. Which, in this bachelorette pad, is pretty much the limit.
Pan con tomate
3 slices sturdy bread (I use Poîlane, but a split baguette would work well, too)
1 clove garlic, peeled (optional)
1 juicy tomato, cut in half
Olive oil
Salt
Toast the bread and when it’s nicely crusty, rub the toast’s surface lightly with the garlic clove. Rub the cut half of the tomato onto the bread — the juices and pulp will soak into the toast. Figure about one half tomato per three slices of bread. Drizzle with good olive oil and sprinkle with salt, if desired. Enjoy in front of your laptop.
Here are some more photos from last week’s market…

I’ve been supplementing my tomato bread diet with apricots.
I’d never seen red spring onions before — didn’t even know they grew that way (duh?).
I might have bought some chard and fresh beans, but I didn’t see them until after I’d paid. Plus, they definitely require cooking…
Topics: A year in a French market: Summer | 3 Comments »
3 Responses to “A year in a French market: Bachelorette cooking (or not)”
Comments
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July 8th, 2009 at 8:25 am
Your pictures of the market are stunning…and making me hungry. I know what you mean about not liking to cook for myself…Not nearly as exciting as cooking for someone else. Guess that means you’ll need to have more dinner parties.
July 8th, 2009 at 11:03 am
I’ve never once cooked for myself in France in the summer truth be told. Oh, I had (modest) plans each time and the wee bags of pasta, rice, couscous all lined up in the cupboard each year only to be given away at the end … somehow eating boursin, laughing cow, quiches from the bakery and the like just somehow won out in the end each time. You shouldn’t feel guilty at all.
July 10th, 2009 at 2:07 am
In addition to pining for the wonderful, fortifying company of CTB, I of course jones uyieldingly for CTB meals. I remember one day in New York, just when we started dating, CTB made us sandwiches for lunch. We were in a hurry, had limited ingredients (some cheese, some mustard, some wheat bread) … but CTB put everything in perfect proportion, toasted the bread to golden crunchiness, and presto — a cheese sandwich unlike any other! As for eating alone in Paris … as a student, I used to subsist on pasta, but sometimes I’d go to the butcher, get a cut of meat, and ask for advice on how to cook it. The result was a certain guy-ey proficiency at the stove, but nothing compared to CTB’s kitchen fluency. And now … off to the DFAC!