La galette des Rois (which I had last year and the year before that, and the year before that, but I don’t think I blogged about it, but honestly I don’t remember, so if any of you remember me writing a post about King’s Cake back in ’11, or ’10, please do let me know) is quite the tradition around these parts and by these parts, I mean France.
We eat the cake to celebrate the Epiphany, but really, they sell it throughout all of January, and not wanting to waste anytime, Papa’s Wife’s 90 year old mother, Louisette, bought one for us to eat on New Year’s Day (totally understandable because if I was 90, I probably wouldn’t want to waste anytime either).
Now the way King’s Cake goes is, the youngest person there is supposed to get under the table (so they can’t see anything) and say who gets what piece of cake, but since La Petite had went down for her nap, that left The Husband as the youngest and he’s way too big to crawl under the table, so we skipped that tradition. Which is kind of funny, because look who found la fève in his piece of cake and got to be king for the day…
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