Paris Part I: A Baguette A Day

One somewhat unexpected and incredibly rewarding finding from our Paris trip was that my French had not gone away. No, we landed and I hit the ground "running."* Not literally, but metaphorically! I was speaking French and I was doing it a-okay, everybody.

Paris, and France in general, is a charming place to an extent. At first, it was adorable that I had to pay 70 euro cents to enter the bathroom in the Gare du Nord. So I popped upstairs to the magazine stand and bought a Paris Pratique in exchange for les pièces. Upon realizing I still didn't have exact change, and neither God nor the lady running the bathroom would help, I popped into the downstairs magazine stand and flat out asked the man for "bathroom money." By the time I got back to where the boyfriend was exchanging money, he had had to queue in three different lines because... someone moved them. Paris!

The "but" of that whole story is that, while charming for a few days, France eventually becomes a weight on your shoulder that only American-caliber internet and tacos can solve. I did it for four months when I lived abroad, but it's funny seeing it through fresh eyes.**

There, I've just prefaced the second part of this trip. (Boyfriend explained the difference between English and French cultures with: "France is just a lot less... evolved.") But keep with you the fact that I got by—nay, triumphed!—with my French. Huzzah.



Our first night in the aforementioned house boat was hilarious, amazing and possibly sea sickening. There's nothing quite like dozing off in a rocking boat with bateaux mouches sailing by.



His first look at the Tuileries. I think he likes it, folks.

Me-O-Vision

The best camera is the one you have with you, isn't that what they say?

I have a habit of taking lots and lots of pictures and then keeping them, not putting them up anywhere. I think it's the best way of cataloguing what happens in my life. Not everything has to be perfectly composed and filtered and uploaded for all and sundry to see. Here are some ones that have appeared elsewhere, and some that haven't.

Script-writing fuel. I have to be a little wired, stay on my toes.




Chocolate chip peanut butter cookies










Finished a dress at Sew Moni that I'll take real pictures of eventually.







Jacked up

This Will Be Our Year

How's 2013 going for you? Here, scootch near me and we'll go through mine so far, okay?

First, I made a cake from this Christmas present.





Then, we welcomed 2013 on the roof with friends, glitter in my mouth and champagne spilling all over my gloves. In a totally unexpected strategic move, we managed to see three or four different fireworks displays from that little corner of Prospect Heights.



After that, I discovered incredible WWII spy thriller Restless and made chicken and dumplings (with homemade chicken stock, naturally). This was my "make do and mend" portion of the year.



And a few days ago, I hit beauty junkie jackpot by making the Sephora VIB list. It's the very small, shiny things, ok?



During a potentially illegal public bathroom selfie sesh, I realized I need a haircut.



This weekend, I made the short and enjoyable journey to Briskettown for breakfast tacos.









My compadre there had about 4 brisket, bacon and brussels sprouts tacos by himself.



Aaand, I've already seen three movies since Christmas. Personal best!

Les Mis: Total sobfest for me. I wept openly during I Dreamed a Dream, but managed not to spill any popcorn.
Jack Reacher: Not the Bourne knockoff I so desperately wanted.
Django Unchained: Solid bloody gold.



And I would be remiss not to partake in a few oysters while they're in season.

Last night, we took the KitchenAid pasta attachment for a spin and watched The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas. Did you know about this? It's Dolly Parton and Burt Reynolds, singing and being sexy. Our local movie theater featured it during a country brunch this weekend, but tickets sold out before we could get there. (Check it out on Netflix Instant.)



2013: keep it up.

Pies I Have Known and Loved

Bourbon Pecan pie for last weekend's Fakesgiving.







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Sunny Sunday

Yesterday was my "slave over a hot stove/oven" day, so I cooked my first-ever batch of chicken stock and some boeuf bourguignon. The apartment still smells like Thanksgiving.

ApplesApplesandmoreApples

Fall in Connecticut! What a life! Turning leaves, apple cider, apple fritters, apple... apples.

This weekend, I headed to Essex with the boyfriend to spend time with his family. The first thing we did on Saturday was head to an apple farm and pick some goodies.







Auntie Fab and Uncle Froggie



Then, we had lunch at famed burger diner, Shady Glen.



Listen. That place is NOT messing around. They are notorious for the fried cheese, which I ordered on a hot dog—a monstrosity known as the "cheesefurter." Disgustingly terrific.





Then I rounded out my nutritious meal with a soda fountain cherry coke and a few spoonfuls of hot fudge sundae. There were Peptos popped.







We hit the outlets so I could find and acquire an apple peeler/corer/slicer thing. Granny tech—go!



This is the face of someone who is 5 minutes away from the J Crew outlet store. Ohh, you innocent. Get ready for a discount stroke.

We finished off the night with a friendly pumpkin carving competition.



I am biased, but this should have won.

When we got home to Brooklyn, it was cooking time.



An apple crumb pie on the left and apple sauce on the right.

For the apple sauce, I used this recipe for the ratio, but added a cup of water and substituted the cinnamon for two cinnamon sticks. After I was satisfied with the texture, I added in about a teaspoon of vanilla bean paste. That gives a more intense vanilla flavor and some pretty little bean flecks.



The new peelcoreslicer in action.



Oh, how I love canning.

And Connecticut. And fall. Have I mentioned that yet?