exclaimed my exuberant husband, dropping a massive wheel of brie into our weird shopping cart. We hauled the cart up the flight of stairs to the cash register, paid, and made our way into the streets of Paris where soccer fans spilled from every restaurant clad in the colors of France. It was the final game of the EuroCup, France vs. Portugal, and Paris was throbbing. On our way back, we passed the cafe with the $22 hamburgers that prompted our search for a grocery store in the first place. My baguette was still warm, but alas, I have no butter.