Paris is a meat-feasting city — not to say the rest of the world is any different. The French love their food, especially flesh, but slowly, rising in different quartiers across the city like a revival of the arts, the “biologique” producers are opening their doors.
I must admit, my stomach joins the choir, moaning as I catch scents through the wafting doorways. But I’m on my way to my own market, a representation of the home I know while traveling, for as a vegetarian on the road, my needs can often be demanding.