Living as an American in Paris — and I assume in most international, cosmopolitan cities — gives you automatic admission into a special club of other people trying to do the same…
Soulatgé, bread, pottery
There comes a time, every fall, when I start to realize quite how much I miss Paziols. Leaving Paziols isn’t like leaving New York. I never stay in New York long; I’m…
Crema Catalana
I remember, when I was growing up and going to Catholic school, I decided I wanted to read “all the laws.” I came from a school system where the “rules” were clear….
Fête de l’Abricot
No, it’s not apricot season. But I still have apricot jam from this summer lying around, and so can you (I am America, and So Can You!), if you pick up several…
Rôti de porc, homemade applesauce, “carrot fries”
I’m pretty lucky when it comes to the Country Boy… as far as boys are concerned, he falls on the “fairly awesome” side of the scale. No housecleaning task is too girly…
egg, yogurt, dill, cucumber, garlic, carrot, potato
Yesterday, as I sat in my Spanish class, it was all I could do to keep from laughing as my professor enumerated a list of things not to do, things that, today,…
Chicken thighs, tomatoes, onions
One of the things that I love about my job as a tour guide is that it forces me to look at Paris through the eyes of a visitor. I’ve been here…
Apple Cream Cheese Bread
I was fairly adamant, when my father suggested that I go to grad school, that I was done with further education. Then again, I’m fairly adamant about most things, and I’m wrong…
“C’est là où commence l’histoire de la tomate.”
Indian summer is a strange sort of moment in time… it’s the season that, when growing up, discerned the summer I had on Long Island — days melting into one another until,…
Fried Eggs and Home Fries
My interest in France wasn’t originally mine. Sure, I liked it. I got good grades in French class, and I loved the trip I took to Paris with my father when I…