"Many Americans have another country living inside them.
I found my country through my stomach. It was France from the first time I ate steak pommes frites at a family restaurant near the Hotel de Seine in Paris where I lived for two years.
But though France was my other country, Paris was not my city.
That came many years later, in 1998, when I spent a week in Marseille. There they were , all my people, a lively mix of hustlers, gifted shoplifters, soulful artists, witty fishmongers and sports-crazed fans, an urban cocktail of Europeans, Arabs, Sicilians, Africans and who knows whats. This was more like it."
—Joan Liftin
