Thursday, January 17, 2013

Russian Doll

The majority of our couple-friends are mixed.  Franco-Italian, Franco-Irish, Franco-Japanese, Franco-Mexican...
It makes it interesting.  Like a cultural/adaptation study.  You see how couples adapt in their relationship and around home.  And you REALLY see who wears the culottes in the family.  Though you could be wrong...

I met this Russian beauty thanks to a friend of B's.  We had the couple over for dinner and he was chiding her and her French grammar mistakes at the dinner table.  She sweetly accepted. I silently slapped him in my own mind.
So I invited her to my house on a Friday night with some other girlfriend's of mine.  She was quiet and kind - and seemed to have none of the regular complaints

He keeps talking but he isn't actually answering the question....

He dances like it is the 80's

His love of stinky cheese is making our fridge smell like something died in there, even with the tupperware!

He's just so French sometimes. 

No girl is that nice and no significant other is without small annoyances. 
And then we had dinner at their house.  And they were both so excited because they cut themselves off from wine during the week and now it was Saturday night dinner.  We brought chocolates from Chapon and she ate one during apéro, which he didn't like one bit, but she did it anyway.  And then we had foie gras, but with vodka. 
And then all bets were off. 

And just this last Saturday there was a baptism for their little girl (18 months old) at the Russian Orthodox church.  Apologies for quality of the IPhone photos, and the miserable gray sky (but you know how I like to kill people's French dreams).

Saint Alexandre-Nevy Cathedral

The hour of speaking/singing in Russian with candles and annointing oils.

Baby didn't mind the priest and his annointing oils until he plucked her naked from her mother's arms and stuck her in the bath. 
Finished Franco-Russian baby, complete with fur collar and beret!

Don't worry, relationships aren't about winning. 
At least not until your easter candy is brought by a flying bell instead of a bunny, there are no more stockings hung by the chimney, no bacon at brunch and you are eating snails and oysters for Christmas.  We won't even talk about the lack of pumpkin anywhere. 

But you can win this one, France.  And my Russian friend agrees

This is the end of a 2.5 foot pyramid (piéce montée) of cream puffs filled with vanilla pudding and covered in hard caramel.  The petals at the bottom are crushed grilled almonds in the same hard caramel.  And the colored pieces sticking out are candied almonds.  One of the only acceptable foods to eat with your hands.

Otherwise known as a croque-en-bouche or Croquembouche; literally: crunches in the mouth.

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