Paris Reunites Me with a Long Lost Love: Taramosalata

Ever since our family traveled to Australia, where this salty, strange, magical dip is somewhat ubiquitous, my little brother and I have been obsessed. (Thank you Nolan, wise brother-in-law.) Made with cod roe, olive oil, garlic, lemon and usually breadcrumbs, this Greek/Turkish marvel has a mild, tender, fishy funk—and is simply wondrous.

Tonight for dinner, I planned to make further progress on the cheeses in my fridge. I bought a fresh baguette in Le Marais (along with a ficelle—a skinny little mini baguette thing—studded with flecks of chorizo: smoky and awesome) and I still had 3/4 of a bottle of red wine in my apartment. Then, I passed a shop selling Greek specialties and got Taramosalata on the brain. I didn't stop, and regretted it. Then. THEN! I was walking down Rue Mouffetard, just a few blocks from home, and I passed another Greek spot. This time, I grabbed some of the pale pink elixir. As of this writing, I haven't even touched my cheese.