Here in Paris the autumn harvest of beans is in the markets now. Well, maybe they’ve been around for a while, but at any rate, I’ve just noticed them. I’ve been hungry for something comforting, but also… Continue Reading
It’s been seven years this month since I moved here (the number “seven” seems to be a magic number in life; Seven Days of Creation, Seven Seals of Revelation, Seven Days of the Week, Seven Deadly Sins, The Seven Samurai, The Seven… Continue Reading
While sifting through boxes and suitcases from a previous life, I came across an old treasure. It was actually three treasures, three cassette tape recordings of Charlotte’s Web, read by the author, E.B. White. I hadn’t listened to them for… Continue Reading
It’s been a while since I’ve visited you, almost seven years. I hadn’t even written you. So I admit I was a bit wary and nervous when I flew into Redding Municipal Airport a few weeks ago. Would you remember… Continue Reading
Moderate Alcohol Consumption May Improve Memory “Drinking alcohol in moderate amounts may improve the ability to create and maintain memories properly, according to a new study from the University of Auckland in New Zealand and Ohio State University in Columbus, Ohio. … Continue Reading
A sure sign of spring here in Paris is the arrival of fraises gariguette, those famous, sweet strawberries from the southwest of France. The first time I tasted them was six years ago when I first moved here. I had invited my landlady for lunch and she arrived with a small paper bag filled with the gariguettes. They were a revelation; fresh strawberries? In April? I’ve been a convert ever since.
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Every spring the world of children’s book publishing screeches to a halt and all eyes, ears and pocketbooks are focused on Bologna, Italy, where foreign rights agents, lawyers, editors, writers, illustrators, literary agents and anyone interested in children’s books descend on this small North Italian city to show their latest books or buy the next bestseller. Continue Reading
It took me the better part of six or seven months to finally learn the pronunciation of my favorite neighborhood bistro, Le Sot l’y Laisse (luh sew-lee-less). Sot in French means “silly” or “foolish,” laisse is from the verb to leave, as in “leave it alone” or “leave it there.”
A loose translation would be, “It would be silly/foolish to leave it.” The sot-l’y-laisse is also the “oyster” of a roast chicken, that soft, tender part just above the tail. The story goes that a fat, wealthy Continue Reading
When I need to shake the dust from my head and sweep any cobwebs from my rattled brain, I walk a few blocks up rue de Bagnolet, turn left onto a short street, and up a few lopsided concrete stairs… Continue Reading
My weekend mornings here in Paris are usually spent at les marchés, those wonderful outdoor markets that straddle busy streets every day of the week somewhere in the city. There is a small one in my neighborhood here in the… Continue Reading
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