February 12, 2016

I'm pretty stoked.  Back in October, a friend gave me a birthday present of a French cookbook.  The book is beautiful (here) and as I skimmed through it's pages, I fell in love with it immediately.


Let me digress a moment...


I am a book lover, (surprise, surprise, aren't most wine lovers book lovers too?  That would be an interesting statistic to gather...)  Anyway.  I'm a book lover, not just for the reading of books but for their aesthetics.  (Yes, I have a ...sensual perceptiveness I carry with me, and it threads itself through all my loves and passions.  Anyway.)  To pick up a book, new or old, and experience the weight of it, the tightness of a new binding, or the well worn "loved" feel of an old binding, is pure delight. The cover with it's lettering and/or artwork is always an outward hint of hidden, yet to be discovered "stuff" inside.  And when I open the book, the crisp pages, color and texture of the paper, fonts used, format, Author's notes, Preface, etc.. all of it, is something that I immediately notice and begin to digest.  And all before I read a word of the contents of the "story".  .....


Okay.. back to my subject..


So, my friend gave me this book on French cooking.  So I committed to get together each month for a year to cook authentic French dishes and drink French wine.  Tonight is February's dinner.  A sharing of it will be coming soon...  :)

MS Ellie's

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