The Beach

8 hours before the formerly porcelain-colored backside of my thighs turned tomato-red

and were so fiery-hot that we cooked eggs on them.

And I again remembered the joys of my childhood 

before sun block.

(you know back in the day your teenage sister would cover herself in Johnson & Johnson's baby oil)

Mind you we were only out for 2 hours.

Acquired taste

acquired taste (as defined by Wikipedia): a food or beverage that is unlikely to be enjoyed by a person who has not had substantial exposure to it.
i.e.  Eat this thing you don't like 50 times and in multiple forms until you hate one less than than the others.  And then stick to that. 

So far, in the last 5 years I could apply this to wine, cheese, miscellaneous meat products, and fish.

Cheese I was always willing to try.  Meat too.  Though now there are few things I just outright refuse. (I am talking to you, andouillette.)
But now fish

I ate it in the beginning because it was such a big deal when I was a kid and my sister brought salmon home from Alaska.
And then people ooohd and aaaaahd over lobster and crab.

And then B's mom made white fish in a heavy tomato sauce for my first lunch with them.
So I took seconds, of course.

And then we come to the island and its ALL FISH AND SEAFOOD ALL OF THE TIME.
And I have given up entirely even thinking I could stick to the one I hate less than the others.  
I used to think I was a good eater.  My mother encouraged us to try everything once.  But now it is just:

 Yes, mini fish with scales and bones in oil are great.

No, cold sea snails with mayonnaise are fine.

Yes, please tell me about the length of the pouce-pieds' penis (poose pee-ay) before I eat it.

 Pouce-pied for dinner anyone?

and we cooked Mexican.

It might be a crying shame that I can make NO French dishes. 
Never was I so American as when I moved to France. 
I had never made hamburgers or wore a baseball cap before I came to France.
I never ate at McDonalds before I moved to France (sidenote: France is second to the U.S. in McDonald's consumption). 
But really, why would I make French food for French people coming to my house.  Why would I prepare them a dish they have eaten over and over again?  Why wouldn't I show them the delights of Thanksgiving and 4th of July BBQ and Halloween.   Who loves food as much as we do?  The French do.

Speaking of American food, we made dinner last night to say thank you to B's parents.  We made tex mex. 

This recipe is my go-to for Fish Tacos with some slight changes (cooking in advance and putting the lime/orange/onion/parsley mix in with the fish aftewards, flour tacos, and you can add rice).  
We have to put the marinade after because BBQd fish looks like this:

 

WHOLE fish are not easy to marinate.  

These fish tacos are TASTY.

Mine don't look exactly like this. 

But they do taste like this.

Matching buildings

I caved and became a member of the white pants club

so now I live in constant fear of colored food. 

What do you think?  Well dressed?  Or assimilated by the Borg?