By Anna Roth, Travels.com Editor
Once, during a Manhattan blizzard, I walked two miles out of my way for a bowl of ramen I'd been told would change my life.
It did, and the meal was totally worth the risk of frostbite.
For a committed foodie like me, a weekend in Paris represented a visit to the culinary Holy Land, my equivalent of a baseball fan's pilgrimage to Fenway Park. Visions of crepes, pain au chocolat and onion soup visited my dreams.
Don't get me wrong. I was excited about seeing the Louvre and all that other stuff, but I mostly looked forward to enjoying food I'd never tried before. I'd done my research and was confident I could cram at least a week's worth of meals into three days.
I'd been training for this weekend my entire life.
There was only one obstacle to overcome: my friends. You know the types, those people who view food as fuel and nothing more. Ten minutes off the bus from the airport, I realized the extent of my challenge when they stopped in front of the McDonald's on Champs-Élysées, and one of them said, "Let's just eat here."
"Eat... here?"
I couldn't hide my incredulity. We were in Paris, for godsakes, the gastronomical capital of the world, yet my companions wanted to eat in a fast-food joint that represented the evils of globalization and inhabited nearly every other street corner in America. It made no sense. Why had they even bothered to leave the States? They could have hit up any mall food court without bothering about passports or plane tickets.
I was set against going inside, but when one of my friends asked why, I felt inexplicably stymied. Okay, looking back, there were extenuating circumstances. It was cold, I was tired, I was hungry, and there was a certain ironic appeal to chowing down a "Royale with Cheese." I reluctantly followed my friends into the bright, French fry-scented interior, made a half-dozen "Pulp Fiction" references and resolved to start my own culinary odyssey the next day.
After 30 minutes of wandering, we were starving. We desperately looked around for a restaurant, any restaurant, when we noticed a warm, yellow light bathing the sidewalk in front of us. We glanced up, and there they were, those celebrated golden arches towering overhead.
I had a decision to make: Fill my friends' empty stomachs, or satisfy my foodie dreams.
Hard as it was, I made a noble sacrifice. But after grudgingly consuming a Croque McDo (Micky D’s take on the classic French sandwich), and a not-half-bad cup of chocolate mousse, I had to admit that I enjoyed my dinners at McDonald’s as much as I resisted them. They gave me strength; not only to walk back to the hostel, but also, in their cozy familiarity, to keep on navigating a foreign culture in a language I didn’t understand.
Looking back, I also learned a valuable lesson that night: authenticity can assume many forms. Even though the plastic photos of those familiar value meals glowed above the counter, and the industrial tables had the same benches welded to them as the tables back home, our dinners at McDonald’s were indisputably French. A self-conscious croque monsieur in a dimly lit café that Hemingway had frequented might have tasted better, but it wouldn't have been any more "Parisian."
In the most basic way, a McDonald's menu in a foreign country provides a window into that nation's culture. It showcases what's important to the locals. A McDonald's in the shadow of the Parthenon offers a Greek Mac, wedged between a pita instead of a bun. Italians order caprese salads on the side. In India, where cows are sacred, the most popular item is the vegetarian "Maharaja Mac." Like travel itself, the menu in a foreign McDonald's takes the familiar and makes it new and exotic. It's a phenomenon that reminds me that I'm somewhere else, as much as it reminds me of where I've been.
Destination Dossier
Location: Paris, France
Month: February. Cold and bleak.
Time Spent: Three days.
How I Got Around: On food. Walking is the best way to see Paris.
Best Food: Roast chicken from a street market on Rue Mouffetard.
Memorable Moment: Walking along the Seine at night with a bottle of red wine. Notre Dame looks amazing lit up.
Biggest Regret: Being too cheap to spend 13 euros on the Eiffel Tower elevator.
Surprising Fact: There are 1,142 McDonald's outlets in France, according to the Telegraph (October 2009).
I Ate Dinner at McDonald's in Paris...Twice originally published on Travels.com
Tell us: Have you ever eaten American fast food in a foreign country? And liked it? Share your stories!
Don't repeat my mistake -- do your research on Travels.com:
The Best Croissants, Boulangeries and Chocolate Shops in Paris
Fun Restaurants in Paris
Tips on Traveling to Paris
Photo credit: Menu courtesy of maveric2003, Royale with Cheese courtesy of pinguino
