I was in Oklahoma when the news of the attacks on Paris broke, but my heart and mind have been in the City of Light ever since.
“I wonder why some croissants are straight and others are curved.” “It has to do with butter content.” “Wait, what?” “The ones that are straight are made from butter. If they’re curved, they’re made from other fats, like margarine or whatever.”
Rand was in Hamburg last week, while I stayed home and watched American Idol. We were both happy with this arrangement, because he HATES American Idol, and I wasn’t quite feeling up to going to Germany for only two days. Also, I was able to learn that I kind of hate American Idol, too, and…
I will probably forget the name of the brunch place we went to in Marais. I’ve forgotten it three times already, each and every time you told it to me, until you finally emailed me with the message “Don’t lose me.” – You meant the restaurant name, of course, but somehow I read it as…
I’m almost done with Paris (at least, as far as blog goes. My personal love affair with the city is just starting). I have only one more post I really need to tackle, about the brunch we had on a grey morning, but I can’t for the life of me remember the name of the…
It’s Wednesday, and I find that I’m still recovering from a weekend full of Bacchanalia spent up in Canada. There was so much … excess. I made so many bad decisions (most of them nutritional, though a few were sartorial) that at one point I turned to Rand and said, “This feels like college.” And…
I’m feeling a little lazy. And working on a post about the Louvre that I hope will make you laugh. And having some fun with photos. Here are some I thought worked well together: – –
Paris is such a lovely city, with so much to see, that it’s easy to overlook the little things. Which is a shame, because there’s beauty in the details (ignore whoever tells you otherwise). While walking, we passed building after building, a few which had rather incredible decorations on their doors. Check them out: –
– Paris, like most European cities, is a barren wasteland on a Sunday. The shops are all closed, the pastisseries boarded up, the streets empty. You can walk for hours and not find anything open – not even a grocery store at which you could possibly buy a roll of crackers to soothe your growling…
Tales of Food, Feminism, and Fury
by Geraldine DeRuiter
Available Now!
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