I've been meaning to post the pix from our French Valentines meal-- which was lovely, thank you for asking--but that nasty bug going around has had me bedridden for a few days and this is the first time I've been upright long enough to post an entry. And you'll forgive the long, rambly, stream-of-consciousness sentences here, I hope, because my energy is minimal. So on to the snaps.
As you know from le previously posted menu, we made Thomas Keller's roquefort and leek quiche. I was delighted that it emerged a lovely golden brown creation, as the blue veins on the cheese had me worried about a green eggs (sans ham) scenario. It was light and fluffy and full of flavor, especially so the next morning.
This was accompanied by haricot vert with pistou (adapted from a recipe on epicurious) and of course, the perfect pommes frites, presented by the Huzz.
And finally, the clafoutis. And please, when you read that, pronounce it, finaLEE, the clafouTEE. It's just more fun that way.
Truth be told, I wouldn't use frozen cherries again because they taste, well, frozen, but after a few tipples of champagne one doesn't grouse about such things; one just makes quick mental note and then refills one's glass.
And that, my friends, is all the news I'm fit to print. It's back to bed for me with hot tea and a third day of clicking channels and cursing the endless Obama-Hillary-McCain onslaught. I found a few nice shows about lemurs and orangutans yesterday, but was moved, in my weakened state, to tears, when various little primates were injured or killed by bigger beasts. Here's hoping for some happier diversions today.
