Croissants to Clothes, Brioches to Belts: Chaumes

THE STORY:

In which A Year in Fromage acknowledges the slow slog towards gentrification. Or maybe not so slow. But definitely quite gentrified. In Paris, this process is often physically made manifest by utilitarian, old, neighborhood food shops being replaced by expensive socks or clothing boutiques.

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Tricking the Eye: Bleu d'Auvergne

THE STORY:

Trompe l'oeil is an art technique that, in theory, dates back to the Greeks. Practically speaking, however, it was during the Renaissance, when painters finally understood about perspective, that it really took hold. With a name like "trompe l'oeil", used in just about every language to describe the phenomenon and literally meaning "fooling the eye", it's clear that no matter who invented it, the French named it and claimed it.

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On the Balcony: Lou Pèbre

THE STORY:

There's a colorful French expression: "Il y a du monde au balcon" which translates literally as "It's crowded on the balcony." But really it's a euphemism to describe a lady who's well-endowed and showing it off. Check out that full balcony.

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Kebab, But Not Shish: Frais de Troyes

THE STORY:

As you surely know, France has a long and troubled relationship -- certainly at a low point right now -- with Muslim/Arabic/North African cultures. But the one thing that is undisputedly welcome in France is the kebab. Not to be confused with the shish kebab, what we Anglophones call our skewered and grilled meats. The French kebab, is more like a Middle Eastern shawarma, and is based on one particular kind of Turkish kebab, the döner kebab.

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Relics of the Past: Saint Denis

THE STORY:

In a suburb of Paris called Argenteuil, I see a stand like this outside the train station. I wonder, "What cute T-shirts are they selling?" When I approach, there are no T-shirts for sale, just a notice about the church in town, the Saint-Denys Basilica. When I ask the woman working the stand about what special thing is happening at the church -- are they selling T-shirts? -- she looks at me like I am a first rate, top-shelf idiot: "Madame, it's the tunic worn by Christ during the Passion."

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