France – Food as a Love Language
French eclairs! — all othe eclairs are dead to me
The Story
My time in France was brief, but it was unforgettable—and delicious. Stacy and I headed to Forbach for a day of antiquing, bakery-ing, and grocery-ing. But when I say bakery-ing, I don’t mean ordinary pastries. Le Mine de Pain was next level extraordinary.
We ate lunch there, and then walked out with one of every single variety of eclair. And wow… WOW. (Insert angels singing here.) Unbelievably, mouth-wateringly, mind-blowingly amazing. Life-altering, really. I don’t think I’ll ever be satisfied by any other eclair again.
As if that weren’t enough, we wandered into Cora—a French version of Target (not even close, but as close as it comes), except the food section felt like it was curated by fairies watering vegetables with unicorn tears while singing opera to them. Fresh meats, vibrant produce, and cheese upon cheese upon cheese. And not expensive gourmet cheese—perfect, heavenly cheese for $1.99. I actually said out loud that it felt like I should pay admission just for the privilege of shopping there.
France spoke to me in my love language: food.
The Reflection
Food wasn’t the only lesson, though. France was also the country where the language barrier hit me the hardest. Of all the places I visited, this was where I felt the most out of place. Many people I encountered spoke little or no English, and for the first time, I felt the ache of not being able to communicate.
It was humbling. Not because anyone was unkind, but because I realized how vulnerable it feels to be stripped of words. Food was a universal language of delight, but human connection was harder to reach without shared language.
The Lesson
France taught me that joy and humility can coexist. There are moments when life invites us to indulge, savor, and delight in simple pleasures. And there are moments when we’re reminded of our limitations, when we’re asked to sit with discomfort and be the learner. Both stretch us, and both are necessary.
Beyond Travel
In life, just as in France, joy and humility often walk hand in hand. We need the moments of delight—the “angels singing” eclair moments. But we also need the humbling ones, the reminders that we don’t always have the answers, the words, or the control. Together, they shape us into more grateful, grounded people.
One Year Later
Looking back now, France remains vivid in my memory. The food was unforgettable (I still dream about those eclairs), but the language struggle left its mark too. Both remind me to embrace life fully: to savor joy without guilt, and to welcome humility without resistance.
A Question for You
Where in your life could you slow down and savor delight—your own “eclair moment”? And where could you allow humility to teach you something new?
Next Stop
From indulgence and humility in France to the bold beauty of tulips and canals—next up, The Netherlands.
