Return to Metz

I’ve written about Metz, France before, given you background and history.

https://stroudallover.blogspot.de/2012/02/meet-me-in-metz-city-of-dragons.html

Metz is such a fabulous city.  Guess that’s why I return a few times a year.  Old, stone place with history that drags on right through the 20^th Century and World War II.

General George Patton’s 3^rd Army got stymied near here, right before he turned his entire army north to relieve the 101^st Airborne at Bastogne during the battle of the bulge.  Humbling to realize a huge gaggle of an army moving and marching almost overnight.  In my mind that can’t be done, but it was done.  And, I can’t get my family in the car to be on time for a movie.  You’re going to say, the difference is the quality of the leadership and rather than fight you, I’m going to agree, take the easy way out and pour myself another beer.

But, back to Metz.  Here’s my routine, although I often branch out and take cobblestone streets where ever they lead, drop into an outdoor café and follow other spur of the moment impulses to amuse myself and make myself seem more French than tourist.

First there’s the cathedral, St Étiene, St. Steven, a magnificent structure that will give you pause to ponder and introspect, whether you’re Roman Catholic or not.

I’m not, but out of goodwill and just in case, I always pay my 1 Euro and light a candle in each cathedral I visit.  It’s not superstition, it’s hedging my bets, and besides, a short prayer for others never hurt anyone.

“OK, Bozo,” I hear you saying.  “Although I’m normally fascinated by religious proclivities, right now I want to hear about Metz.”

I hear you my brother.  Let’s cut to the visceral.  Food and drink.  Across from the Cathedral is a large U-shaped building once planned as the bishop’s palace.  Then a little commotion called The French Revolution and its anti-clerical face interfered with a well laid plan.  The bishops’ loss was our gain, in the form of a world class covered market.  Sometimes I buy, sometimes I only salivate, but I always walk the walk.  Fascinating place to gander at more cheeses than you can shake a herd of cows at (or goats for that matter), cuts of meat that lead your mind straight to charcoal grills and bottles of icy beer. 

So, you’re looking for fruits and veggies?  Oh, you’re in for a feast for the pickiest of vegephobes.  The French are sticklers for which meat or veg is used for which dish.  That’s why you find an array of chicken, each to fill a different pot.  Potatoes?  At least a dozen varieties.  Fruits, the same.  And breads?  Ou la la!  Seafood fresh from the bobbing boats.  Mais oui!

Makes me hungry, which is why I speed straight to the grand spread of outdoor cafés.  

Metz is in Lorraine, so what do I always order at my fav bistro?  Quiche, 

with pomme de terre frites (fried potatoes) and salad.  (Et voulez vous du vin aussi, 

Monsieur?) “And would you like wine with that, sir?”  Oui, bien sûr, and leave the bottle.

Metz is always worth the trip!

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