On advance toujours

I didn’t plan on neglecting this blog for so long.

Tomorrow, Toronto.

After working for an entire year in Hong Kong, going back to the place where we fell in love and discovering Rome, tomorrow, finally- we’ll be going home. 

Out of the rain

We got the best welcome back to Paris today.

Sunshine.

Of our 96 hours in Rome, it rained about 93 hours. We arrived when it started to rain. It rained while we enthusiastically ventured out to all the famous landmarks and it rained while we slept. It rained while we drank our cappuccinos and ate our cornetti and it definitely rained while we were pizzaria hopping.

It stopped raining while we lined up for the security check to go into St. Peter’s Basilica but surely enough, when we exited the magnificent church, it rained once again.

The rain didn’t manage to dampen our spirits but it definitely dampened our ill-prepared feet.
It rained so much that the river rose about 14 meters above normal and made the evening news. We were thankful to see Rome and spend it with our friend, but damn, there was just so much rain!

We’re happy to be back in Paris, with sunshine and not a cloud in the sky. At least not today.

 

 

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Made with love- Frappe for Carnival

The sun had quietly set, slipping through the shingles of the surrounding houses.  Rome slowly revealed itself, lit up like fireflies in the not too far distance.

We’re inside and already have on a couple of very old school aprons. The fireplace was crackling and the place smelled of seared beef, garlic and pecorino cheese.

Stefano’s mum pulled out a big piece of wood from the cupboard and set up her station. She laid the board down on the table and beside it, a wooden rolling pin about the width of the table. She pulled out a bag of 00 flour, a couple of eggs and a fork.

I was about to learn how to make a traditional Italian pastry from a real Italian woman.

Measures of happiness

Bruce and I did something yesterday that we haven’t done in over a year.

We weighed ourselves.

Celebrating Jean Pierre Nuel

There are few people like JP.

South of Paris – Yssingeaux market

Two years ago, my dearest friend Aurelie took us to the market in Yssingeaux. It’s a tiny commune in the Haute Loire region of France, though compared to St. Bonnet le Froid, it’s the size of Texas.

There is just something so special about the Yssingeaux market. 

Yes

Bruce and I started our relationship a bit backwards.

We lived together from the start. We weren’t even good friends to begin with.

Actually, I barely liked him even before we met.

Yam’Tcha- an intimate dinner with an old Chef

Before we were us, I sent Bruce an email that he never lets me forget.

Back in September of 2011, while working at Marcon, I loved spending weekends in Paris. Especially since Lisa moved there and had a little apartment in the 9th arrondissement. We’d fit as many patisseries and boulangeries as we could in 48 hours. Sometimes, we would invite Bruce. 

Working in the industry, we all usually had Mondays and Tuesdays off. Bruce was working in Paris at the time, at a little restaurant called Yam’Tcha.

Old habits die hard

We both picked up a really bad habit during our year in Hong Kong. We eat way too fast.