When it comes to Nana’s biscuits, all notions of healthy dieting fly completely out of the window. Biscuits … Butter … Homemade Fig Preserves … Coffee. Yes, please. (P.S. That’s my great-grandmother’s old food processor in the background. And yes, although is screeches like a banshee, it still works, unlike Nana’s and my newer models….
Biscuits + Yesterday + Tomorrow = Today
Living in the past is not an option. For years now, the universe has been telling me to get rid of stuff. It’s necessary as part of my life’s mission. I still don’t know what that mission is, but the universe, or else that little voice inside my head, has been pretty loud and clear….
I Love it When a Plan Comes Together
One of the biggest inspirations France gives me is cooking/eating. On that note, tears of inspiration filled my eyes recently while walking down my old Paris neighborhood’s Rue Daguerre. During my short week’s stay, I made time for cheese shopping on a Friday afternoon, on the hunt for the perfect morsels to add to the…
What a trip …
My cankles are throbbing. My glands are slightly swollen, and that weird little cough I get when I’m exhausted and have been drinking too much coffee and wine is back. I might have taken 4 naps today. But to my advantage, I did also do some leg lifts and swam about 4 laps in my…
Eating Nola
After a few necessary days of work and rest, I’m finally able to sit down and breathe in the under-80ºF morning air. Utter bliss, aside from the drilling going on across the street. My apt. complex is an oasis minus the unwanted, over-amplified noises (i.e. drilling, leaf blowing, road rage honking and one neighbor’s very…
Paris’ Culinary Dreams Lost … and Found
“It’s just as important for a gourmand to know the strengths and weaknesses of his stomach as for a general to know the morale and strength of the army he commands.” – Grimod de la Reynière If any of you know me, or have read my previous writings, then you’re aware of my love/obsession for…
Au Régime!
Almost two months ago, mon meilleur ami came to stay with me, for about three weeks. Originally French, he grew up in Paris and now lives in Barcelona working as a theatre instructor. We met in Louisiana when I was in high school, back in the late 80s, and essentially, he is family. Even though…
Artichokes
Mom used to make steamed artichokes. Or at least she made them once or twice when I was little. I don’t know why she stopped. Maybe it was a 70s thing. Steamed artichokes went out with pu-pu platters and piña coladas. I miss them. From time to time, the thought crossed my mind to steam…
Biscuit-Makin’ Nana
Nana hasn’t made me biscuits in ages, and she missed it. Me too! These days, I’m usually the one cooking her meals. So this morning, here she is bright and early in the kitchen. Just a couple bickies though ’cause I unfortunately no longer have the metabolism of a six-year-old. She even managed to pull…
Shirking My Health Responsibilities
Last month, after at least a year of being too exhausted for normal life, I finally found a naturopath in my small Louisiana city. I won’t go into all the reasons I don’t trust doctors, but let’s just say instead of the normal 5 minutes (maybe) with an MD, I spent nearly 3 hours with…
