I've discovered a new meaning for the $5 foot-long.

Three Euros buys a whole baguette stuffed with the spread, veggies and meat of your choice. It's a yummy and fast way to get lunch and one of the few ways of eating in France that doesn't involve at least an hour of time and multiple courses. Whether it's dinner with a French family, out to eat at a restaurant or lunch at a university, eating is something taken very seriously here.

I live with a host family and three times a week we eat dinner together. To my American sensibilities the three course candlelit meal every night seems like quite an affair, but it's actually the normal way meals go.

To the French it's bizarre to start with a salad; the hot plate is the main thing, why wouldn't you start with that? Salad comes after the meal. Then bread. Always, always bread. Bread with cheese from every animal that makes it and with every spice imaginable mixed in. The standard spread at my apartment is goat cheese and various combinations of garlic, onion and pepper.

A dessert always concludes the meal, but those are different, too. While chocolate and cake are common, it's actually much more likely to have fresh fruit. Applesauce or pear slices are very typical.

The structure stays the same at a restaurant. Also, one normally begins with an aperitif, or an appetizer drink. Wine is such a part of the culture here that it's odd to have a dinner without it. The structure of courses remains the same, and one normally ends the meal with ice cream or fruit and coffee.

Getting the check at a French restaurant is tricky, and something I can't say I've completely mastered yet. Even after the meal is munched, the fruit finished and the coffee slowly sipped away, restaurant-goers stay to sit and talk. The tips are included in the bills, and no one is ever working to clear tables.

If the restaurant is full, it stays that way. The host has no problem turning people away. Dinner together is a long process and an integral part of the day because regardless of the time or location, a meal is something to be shared and savored.

This attitude is evident in the way one eats at school, too.

Every day, my university closes for 90 minutes at noon. Yes, you read that right. The whole campus shuts down from noon to 1:30 p.m. There are absolutely no classes or office hours. There's no such thing as ducking into KU for something to munch on in the back of the room for a noon class, nor are there work schedules that keep students sorting papers or answering phones through the lunch hours.

Students and faculty alike leave to sit in cafes or trek to the university restaurant downtown. (There are multiple universities in Angers, and the food court is centrally located for them all.) Even at the RU as it's called, the meal follows the same structure. You couldn't buy a piece of pizza and a Coke if you wanted to.

For 2.50 euro one gets a meal ticket that includes the American equivalent of an appetizer, entree and dessert. But foreigners must be careful and remember that fruit does count as a dessert. And it goes without saying that a small baguette is included in the price. This is France; there is always bread.

A meal is something done well and done once. There is no such thing as a to-go box and the portions reflect that. Likewise you can't order a double extra large latte in a heat-insulated cup on the way to class. The largest size, ironically called grande, is in reality no bigger than a Dixie cup. Food isn't something to be hoarded; grocery shopping occurs once or twice a week, often at the fresh outdoor markets throughout the city. There is always an intention evident behind a meal and it is savored among family and friends.

Have I whet your appetite? There are still spots left to come here to France for the fall semester! But don't forget, the last day to register for the an exchange program in the fall is Monday, March 15. See Tina Manco in Alumni Hall for more information.