I never appreciated leeks as a vegetable – as opposed to an aromatic – until I ate them with vinaigrette in Paris during my college year abroad.
At a tiny cafe that was halfway between my studio apartment near Porte Saint-Martin and my best friend’s seventh-floor walk-up near the Seine, the two of us spent our evenings drinking carafes of red wine and working our way through the very classic menu: cheesy croque-madames, herby escargots, oeufs mayonnaise.
