Quelques photos terribles et des plats délicieux

by jemma margaret

We are not cinematographers.

Mostly we are eaters. Eaters and walkers. Eaters and readers. Eaters and thinkers.  Eaters and drinkers.

Today I went to IHP. Forget Proust and madeleines, all one needs to travel back in time is a route once walked often and then abandoned. Each step up Rue St-Jacques was a step toward the past. Once inside I read several relevant things and drank a very cheap café crême (most definitely made from a pod). We were originally planning to meet at Angelina at 4, but an sos email moved our plans to 3. Not being terribly hungry, I mostly observed. This paid off when the Chinese girl next to us shared her St Honore with some French navy officials in exchange for trying their dessert. Afterward, the Navy awarded her with a good luck pin. Vive la France!

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Suddenly it was evening time. I don’t know how this happens, but I had barely an hour to mull around on the internet pretending to be working hard before it was time to face the rain and attend happy hour. At a local bar Madeleine enjoyed her first Parisian mojito (it’s the national drink , so say I) and I had the cheapest rosé on offer (not bad at all). These were accompanied by somewhat damp potato chips.

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Dinner this evening was quite a mélange. Inspired in part by the meal adjacent to ours during hot chocolate we had green beans, avocado, smoked trout, lentils, harissa, lemon, and an omelette with fancy cheese. Altogether quite satisfactory and a perfect way to polish off that Lillet bottle (because we are going OUT tomorrow night–stay tuned).

 

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