“Les gens de Paris ont l’air d’être toujours occupés, mais en fait ils se promènent du matin au soir.” I’ve discovered the writer known as Céline this year, a writer whose name…
Category: Recipes
Beethoven and Brownies
I don’t usually play with the medium I’ve chosen to express myself. There’s something that seems so unromantic about the Internet, as though typing one’s words and sending a hyperlink into cyberspace…
Almost American
The Almost Frenchman has found his match in the Almost American, someone I’ve met this year who yearns for America about as much as the AF yearns for France. I would love…
Faits d’hiver
There’s a linguistics phenomenon–I’m drawing a blank on its name at the moment, though I’m sure someone will remind me promptly–that says that a person or culture will justify an erroneous statement…
Meudon and Midnight Tomatoes
When I was growing up, I used to save everything. Letters, homework papers, candy wrappers… just in case. In case of what, I’m not sure–I don’t know that I knew at the…
Lasagna and learning
Learning is a process… sometimes I forget that. OK… I often forget that. Like when I tried to learn physics in an evening and left rage-induced crumpled notebook pages all over the…
New York and Voyage au bout de la nuit
Yesterday, I let you into my Sorbonne world a little bit; I nearly decided to write about something else today, but I know that there’s no better way to write well than…
Chicken Parmesan
I spent a large amount of my childhood playing cards with my Grandma: on weekends, at Christmas, on summer afternoons when we’d left from the beach as we waited for the steaks…
Pumpkin Black Bean Soup
I still think of myself as a shy person, something that someone who’s met me in the past five years or so probably wouldn’t understand. Now, I’m always the first one to…
Apple Sparkle Cake
When I was in undergrad, my father strictly prohibited me from getting a job. This, to me, seemed preposterous: who in their right mind would tell their daughter, whose work ethic had…