Blursday

I spent last Sunday evening with one of the English professors at her house. We watched Garden State, played Wii, nibbled on shrimps and strong mustard, and had apertifs. And then feasted. She made a traditional French meal involving Maroilles (pronounced mar-wahl, sort of like narwhal), a super stinky cheese from up north. It's featured in the movie Bienvenue Chez les Ch'tis (translated as "welcome to the sticks") and is represented as being just horrible. 

The prof asked if I was psychologically ready to taste it. My student's dad, after I told him what I'd be eating, said Uh, courage! while looking concerned. He was sort of kidding.

Well, I was worried, but I loved it. I fell in love. I am IN love with this cheese! She served it with pork and some little potato puffs. And bread. And wine. So today, I ventured off to Ed (ha ha ha) to buy my own brick of Maroilles. That's her above. Wow, only 25% fat contact! I also needed some crème fraîche:

  Hm, 15% fat content. 

 The stuff. Easy, right?

 Wow, either the cheese is magically cutting itself or the camera is levitating and pressing its own buttons

 BOILIN' SPUDS and creamy sauce

Right before I started eating, it looked like this. It was almost perfect! I think I added too much crème fraîche, so the stinky cheese could have been a little stinkier. I feel like a real Northern French person now. It's kind of a negative stereotype but I don't caaaare! (If you can, watch the movie I mentioned above. Cute and funny.)