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I think I’m pretty easy going when it comes to my chocolate. I like it dark; very dark (my favorite); milk; white; with nuts; with fruit; cream filled…well, you get the picture. But what is it that attracts me (or anyone) to the chocolate or pastry? Is it the brightly colored packaging with the beautiful bows or the intricate dusted designs on the tops of glossy chocolates? Is it the perfectly molded chocolate with the nut or fruit garnish that hints of the flavors inside? Or could it be the luxurious textures of chocolate and confections that are assembled like a glorious piece of art? (more…)
The day started out simply enough. Our plan was a relaxing drive into the mountains and to meander through some of the villages that we marked on our map in this Var region of Provence. What we didn’t account for was coming across a village that has cave dwellings and dates back to the 8th century. This lovely little village was Cotignac. The name is said to have derived from coing which is the French word for the fruit, quince. Not even on our radar of places to stop and visit, but here it was. And we were in for an adventurous surprise. (more…)
A driveway lined with olive trees, vineyards for as far as the eye can see, a table with wine glasses and chairs set under an old olive tree-this is what French Provencal dreams are made of. This is a tiny tale of an enchanting day.
Itching to get out of the city, we decided to drive up into the mountain countryside to do some wine tasting. We quickly realized that Sunday was a perfect day for driving on beautiful country roads, but not so much so for wine tasting. All of the vineyards and wine tasting rooms were closed. All except this illusive and mysterious vineyard we came upon by pure happenstance. (more…)
So here was my theory: eat, drink and walk everywhere like the French do and start looking like the French. You know the look. Long thin arms with a delicate bra strap exposed that somehow just looks so sexy; gangly legs looking so perfect in colored skinny jeans; dresses that seem to just lightly drape on their bodies and hair swept up so effortlessly and little makeup that adds such a touch of chic. Sigh.
Almost three weeks into my experiment of living like the French and I am finding major flaws with my theory. My reality is this: my arms are still wiggly and my wide bra straps aren’t very sexy; the skinny jeans I brought are now difficult to button and I can continue leg press a small truck with my legs; my dresses are far too conservative and rather boring; my hair still looks like I just pulled it back in a pony tail and when I go sans makeup, I look like I just woke up. (more…)