No. 158-159: Better than the Stock Show & Martinique Revisited

source: http://www.stao72.fr

I know I have some diehard rodeo and cowboy/girl readers in Colorado and the West, so please don’t be offended, but I have to say, I enjoyed my day at the Salon l’Argiculture this past weekend more than I have ever enjoyed the Great Western Stock Show in Denver. Please don’t throw any rotten tomatoes my way, but I had a heck of a time standing slack-jawed eyeing the fine bovine, porcine, and ovine of France, in, of all places, the Paris exposition hall.

I don’t know what I was thinking it would be like. I tried not to read any blogs or adverts ahead of time so I would be surprised by the French interpretation of a Stock Show. And surprised I was—mostly by the fact that these huge, prize-winning animals were holed up in gay Par-ee. I know France is a country in love with their food, and their high quality ingredients, so it makes sense to showcase them all in their capital city. It’s just that I don’t normally associate the City of Light with livestock.

Now, in a state with a blazing-eyed, 32-foot high (9,000-pound) electric blue, anatomically correct, wild mustang welcoming visitors as they land at their airport (i.e. Denver, Colorado), I find it much easier to make that association. Denver and livestock, they go hand-in-hand.

source: DIA-promo.com

So I was very surprised to see this “little” guy, when I walked into the first expo hall at Porte de Versailles…

…along with all his friends and competitors.

There were of course the adorable intertwined piglets and baby goats…

…and a few lessons on where our cuts of beef come from…perhaps I should become a vegetarian?

A whole hall dedicated to cats and dogs…hmmm…I don’t want to be eating those.

….hmmm…don’t want to eat those…

And of course, my favorite part, the halls full of artisanal and farm fresh agricultural products.

There were some lunch options you most definitely would NOT find in Denver…

…and I’ve never seen olive oil being pressed or liqueur made from cèpes (mushrooms) in my hometown either.

Nor the cheese, glorious chèvre! There were even milk bars serving both cow’s and goat’s milk.

Et enfin, we were able to revisit Martinique, the French department in the Caribbean where we were lucky enough to create some very happy Christmas memories.

Alors, Yippee-Ki-Yay! Or as we say back in Colorado, “Howdy Folks! Welcome to Golden Paris. Where the West Lives.”