Last night in St. Etienne

Yesterday was our last night in St. Etienne.

Originally, we planned to leave on the Friday, but JP, Evelyne and Aurelie insisted that we stay an extra day, so that we could  experience this:

Mammi et Pappy

I absolutely love Aurelie’s grandparents. They are what I always imagined European grandparents to be: gentle, kind and so so very generous.

They live in a house built from their very own hands, and their garden is a utopia in the summertime. Last year, after leaving my very first lunch at their place, I left with enough produce for a week. They shoved carrots, potatoes, tomatoes and fluttery heads of lettuce into my hands, after just plucking them from the ground.

Mammi, as Aurelie affectionately calls her grandmother, is an excellent cook. She lives to feed her family, and you can taste it in her food. Pappy is full of stories and his eyes light up when he reenacts fond memories.

Eating is an extravagant affair at their place, and I always leave feeling a bit less graceful each time, barely able to waddle down their flower entwined porch.

I am a veteran, having eaten at her grandparent’s several times already. Today was Bruce’s first time. I gave him some advice before we drove off to Firminy, to see mammi et pappy.

Salut St. Etienne

Friday afternoon, Bruce and I packed our bags and headed off to our next adventure: St. Etienne, a city just south of Lyon, where my dear friend Aurelie resides.

The agenda for the next two weeks is simply, to eat. Comme d’hab.