I have traumatizing experiences when it comes to French cheese. When I was little, my uncle who lived in Paris came to visit a few times a year and brought presents. From clothes and toys for us kids, to champagne, boxes of chocolate and sweets, they were products that couldn’t be bought in our country and that always represented the elegance and class of France that we looked forward to receiving parts of.  Continue reading “Normandy, pt. 3: A Cheesy Story”