by Mareesa Ahmad
It was a crisp spring morning as my mother and I crept quietly out of our Paris apartment, as my father slept soundly from an exhausting day at Versailles the day before. We chatted animatedly as we crossed La Tour Eiffel, which glistened in the early morning sun.
After a few twists and turns, we arrived at the famous open-air market on Rue Cler in the 7th arrondisement. It was still early, but both sides of the cobblestone street were already lined with vendors from all parts of Paris. There were stalls creaking under the weight of huge heads of cauliflower, asparagus thick