The Husband loves to eat. He loves his food. And he loves crazy food like beef tongue, veal brains, and beef tartare. This means that anytime we go to Aix en Provence, I know that we’re eating at the place that does the all you can eat beef carpaccio (but I’m pretty much OK with this because I’ve usually been bribed with a trip to Zara and a couple of English language magazines that I can pick up in the city. English language magazines make my heart go all a flutter).
I order a bottle of wine, something like steak and frites, and then sit back and watch the carnage happen…
………………………………………………………………………………………………..
First the plate of raw meat comes and it looks like this…
{my name used to be Bessie}
At this point any conversation will cease and The Husband begins to devour a cow…
{me like food}
…making sure to clean his plate
(he’s a good boy, he always cleans his plate).
This is then repeated six times.
(Five is he’s not feeling his best, maybe seven if he’s feeling good.)
And out of boredom (because how long can you really sit in a restaurant watching your husband eat a whole cow) I drink loads of this…
{drink me}
(but like I need an excuse)
Check it out, it’s Italian.
(Confession time… I prefer Italian wine to French wine. Don’t tell Le Villagers.)
And admire the Missoni labeled bottle of Pelligrino…
…mentally comparing it to
Perrier’s Dita Von Teese bottle and decide that even though I adore Miss Von Teese (and so much more since she divorced Manson; he’s gross) I prefer the Pelligrino bottle anyway .
And oh how I really really want a Missoni bikini and to stay at the Missoni hotel in Edinburgh (I really like Missoni).
And when I begin to get extra fidgety, I’ll attempt to draw a map of the U.S. with a pomme frite dipped in candle wax…
(french fries and wax is a very artistic medium… pure genius)
And consider changing my name to Basquiat.
I am quite the artist…
…non?
bisou
P.S. check out the Dita Von Teese for Perrier mini movie
here.
It takes a bit to load, but if you like Dita, it’s worth it.
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