Apartment Hunting and Brussels Sprouts

Apartment hunting is definitely not my favorite kind of shopping.

I mean, sure, it’s fun if you have all the time in the world or all the money in the world, but seeing as neither of those conditions are generally true when a student is searching for an apartment in a different city, apartment hunting is not the most fun of all shopping situations.

Yes… I’m moving again. I’m sure very few of you are surprised. And yes, I’m a student again. Even I’m surprised.

When I left New York in the spring, I was very sure I was coming back in the fall. I had an apartment, a handful of ideas with regards to work, friends to hang out with, my family nearby. I left for Europe with full intentions of going on a vacation… I should have known better.

I’ve been toying with the idea of moving back to France since Cannes, but it wasn’t until I was in Paziols that I made the decision–as decisions are often made in my world, with a few clicks of the mouse and hardly a second thought–to return to a city that I thought I had left.

I’m not usually good at going back to places… moving for me has always been on a forward trajectory, hopping to new places without ever looking back. But Paris and I have a story that, for whatever reason, never seems to end.

Going back to Paris is a mix of feelings: I’m excited, of course, to be going back to a place I’ve called home. When you spend as much time away from your home city as I do, you create another family, another home. Over the past three years, Paris has become that for me, whether it be through real blood ties, like my cousin, the Actress, or ties that I’ve chosen, like my friends. And while I was more than grateful that the Almost Frenchman answered the call, offering me the couch in his 10 square meters of living space, part of me wondered, as I wandered around a city that, for some reason, I keep coming back to, if there was enough of Paris left for me to discover to keep me interested.

Luckily, the Almost Frenchman had since moved from his place in the 15th, an arrondissement I know quite well, to the 17th, one that I hardly knew at all, an arrondissement that is home to the Square des Batignolles. This park near métro Brochant is deceptive: a square usually indicates what is known in Italy as a piazza, an open square where people congregate. This square is a park filled with wildlife and flowers, full of things to discover.

I suppose Paris still has some secrets for me after all.

So what does all of this have to do with Brussels sprouts? Nothing… except that now that I’m back in Paris, the Almost Frenchman will be getting his daily dose of vitamins thanks to these. When I was still living at the Actress’ house, he came over to see me munching on roasted Brussels sprouts as a quick dinner and immediately fell for them. The addition of lardons (or bacon, if you don’t have lardons) makes this a special occasion side dish… perfect for celebrating a return to the City of Light.

Roasted Brussels Sprouts with Lardons

1 kilo Brussels sprouts
200 g. lardons

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees Farenheit.

Line a baking pan with parchment paper. Spread the Brussels sprouts over the parchment paper.

In a small pan, heat the lardons over low heat until they give off at least a tablespoon of grease, about five minutes. Remove from the heat and toss the grease with the sprouts.

Roast for 20 minutes, tossing once in the middle of cooking time. Add the lardons back to the pan after twenty minutes and cook until the bacon is crispy, about five minutes more.