Montemartre: An Adventure of Rather "Slimy" Proportions

So I find it rather "grande" that I can sit here in the middle of school and write on my blog. We're in Nutrition Ed. and are required to pick out a "Cultural Food", which we will make and then present, along with a PowerPoint and poster, to the class. In the absence of my partner, I have decided to pick Quiche, a rather delicious French breakfast dish which I first tried here in the U.S., but then managed to fall in love with in France.
France, of all the places I went on last years Europe tour, was most definitely the best place for European cuisine, followed in a close second by Germany. I remember my second day in Paris, Justin Mendoza, Julie Campbell, Julie Williams, Lucas and I all headed up to explore Montemartre, the tallest hill in Paris, upon which the "White Church", or Sacre Coeur, is situated.
It truly lived up to its reputation as one of the most beautiful places in the city. Climbing the hill to the top of the numerous stairs, and avoiding being ensnared by bracelet weaving Gypsies intent on cheating us out of our Euros, we looked out over the horizon, before turning and heading into t,the church itself, upon whose doorstep a legless female beggar sat. Although I don't remember much of the inside of Sacre Coeur, for it was later overshadowed for me by the glory of Notre Dame, I will, however, always remember the culture of Montemartre. It was there that I received a small, if not exquisite, oil painting of the Eiffel Tower, as well as ate in a dark, musty, and rather shady cafe which never the less served some of the most fabulous food on the hill. Justin had been intent on sampling a French cuisine must-snails-and, having convinced Lucas to join him, they had searched up and down the streets of Montemartre before a rather bemused if not friendly Frenchmen had directed us to the cafe I have spoken of. Sitting down at a front table rather nervously, (we didn't speak much French and the server was both tall and imposing, with a caveman demeanor to boot), we opened our menues and prepared to order. I had decided on my current cultural food project choice-ham and cheese quiche and their version of an orange Fayo. Justin and Lucas, on the other hand, eagerly picked out the oddest things they could find, Les Escargots (snails), and a raw salmon salad.
Everything was delicious. The snails, I was informed, were chalked full of garlic and butter and cooked to a T, and after a little convincing, I discovered that the salmon, though raw, had all the makings of a slightly muskier, well-preserved tuna. French cuisine, which if often described as a more refined genre of food than that of German and other robust cuisines, lived up to its reputation that day, as did Montmartre. Although for me Paris itself ended up being a downer, that day will still go down in my memory as one of the best of my life. Never before have I enjoyed such an adventure among friends, and what I wouldn't give to experience it again.