Reverse Culture Shock in 5 Hours or Less...

I returned to America for the first time in a year.  The flight from Charles de Gaulle to JFK was a thrill ride.  Afraid to fall asleep because of the schizophrenic man next to me (a flight attendant asked me if I wanted to change seats, but I didn’t realize why until too late) I resigned myself to a marathon of movies including Bridesmaids, Two Days in Paris, and that one with Ryan Gosling and Julianne Moore that just wouldn’t end. 

Diner breakfast...essential...

Landing in New York late Sunday night, I was all a-giggle, clutching my passport proudly, ready to rush to the diner for breakfast and the bakeries for cupcakes, but the reverse culture shock hit quickly.  Within five hours, five things had already made me realize that I wasn’t the same little American that left this place over three years ago…

Food truck trend hits Paris, and the results?

Not the permanent truck, FYI...

I remember walking out of my college dining hall in New York to the sight of a dessert truck, but after limitless ice cream and brownies, I couldn’t even tease the possibility.  It was 2008 and little did I know that I would be leaving New York just as the food truck craze would start sweeping the nation.  Oh well.

Hunkered down in a Parisian bistro or one of my favorite Asian restaurants, I wasn’t exactly nostalgic for food from a truck, especially not on typically chilly and drizzly Parisian nights.  I read about them, I saw that Food Network developed a TV show about them, but I had no connection to them.

Then the buzz started making its way around Paris that a food truck was in business, parking at different places around the city and serving up American style hamburgers.  With a French name like Le Camion Qui Fume, literally “The Truck that Smokes” – “The Smoking Truck?” – well I thought I’d see what the fuss was about.