It smelled like fish.

Entrée + Plat + Dessert
Appetizer + Main + Dessert


3 choices in each category

Entrée I chose to be adventurous and go with the unknown gyozo in a ginger sauce.  APPROVED! I was ready to lick the plate.

Plat?  'Non' to the white fish and pasta, 'Non' to the Langue de Cochon (pig's tongue) - which was actually Longe de Cochon (porc ribs) - ah the beauty of not being a native speaker.

So what did KB choose?  Poulet et tomates avec sardignes.
KB lost.  KB chose the chicken with tomatoes and sardines - which was actually not.  It was undercooked chicken that smelled like fish with some pretty tomatoes.
Sometimes adventurousness is not rewarded.

Dessert:  The server actually warned me off the peach soup with almond ice cream and tapioca, but I took it anyway.  Pretty good.  

I am sorry this is the most boring blog post ever.  I should have at least included some food porn photos.  But my fancy future phone is too future for me.  But it makes awesome phone calls!

It's date night!

So I get a lot of shite for this. 
B's dad makes a joke now EVERY TIME we come over for Sunday Lunch.  His dad thinks it is funny that we go on dates.


I like dates.  Especially when I get to pick where we go - which was a stipulation of us going to dinner tonight. We're going out with a couple where the wife was my first experience with the female of the Parisian species.  Territorial, insecure, well-dressed, skinny as a rail.  Can only be fun, right?


We are going to L'Office. 

I'll let you know how it goes.

Retro house

We stayed with B's Grandma in the Retro house this last week.  I couldn't help myself from taking photos of the "It was all yellow" bathroom - complete with yellow bidet and yellow toilet paper.

I am just sad you missed the "bathing nude" that was the art piece in this bathroom until very recently.

something went haywire and this photo is EXTRA yellow

I am still not sure how to properly use this.

. 

Do you think?

Do you think if I listen to all of the songs that stick in my head one after the other that their effects would cancel each other out? 

I like pop music.

Ma caille

I am a crying machine.  A sympathy crying machine and a sadness sponge. 

B’s grandmother had a stroke and passed away while we were on Ile d’Yeu.  

We went back to the village where she grew up. 

Back to the cemetery where we buried his cousin 1 month ago.   

Back to the same mortuary.

I thought I would drown in all the sadness.  

But there is something very survivalist about the human soul.  It is as though you reach a limit and your body and mind self-regulate.

It was hot.  We played games and chitchatted, organized the ceremony.   Had lunch and dinner outside.  The sky in a village tucked away amid the hills is inky black.  

I can’t remember the last time I saw so many stars.

The Burgundian village of Prâlon:

 

Fancy Magic Induction Stove

My old stovetop had 4 burners, was a lovely mustard yellow and was commonly used as counter space.
Mostly because it only had 1 useable burner
It would trip the circut breaker and shut off all the electricty for our apartment if more than one burner was on at once. 
And the one burner only functioned on High. 
I am a genius in the kitchen because I can make a damn good meal come out of that space.

But now, I have a magic stove.

 

3 fully working burners

I can put it on low, 

medium,

medium high.  

And it works like a dream.

It is a shiny new black.  

And my fancy new stove that heats through mag(ic)netics boils water is less than 60 seconds.                    

I'm going to have to up my game.

it is good to be wrong sometimes

... because this is much better than what I expected in the North Atlantic