Tartiflette. I tried it in a BYU French class. I taught how to make it when I was a French teacher, and now I've officially eaten it in France, so I'm legit.
Can't really write a caption of these yummy pics, I'm too busy translating French Jerry Springer for Pete. We've imported the worst parts of our culture. You're welcome France.
And now, here I am in Versailles. I can't remember if the look on my face was to say, "Who in the crap decided it would be a good idea to display Japanese modern art all over Versailles?!" Or was it to say, "Why didn't anyone tell me that when you go to Paris, you are supposed to wear boots or heels and dress coats and mostly all black when you walk around and not really sporty comfortable clothes? I am such a lame nerd."