A Moveable Feast

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I’m just back from Paris feeling inspired. In particular, I am inspired by a dinner my friend V threw at his apartment in St. Germain. It was the perfect evening.

V’s charming girlfriend T was there, his college-student daughter L, and his friends, whom I’d never met, Anne and Martin. I love a party with a mix of people of different ages, backgrounds, and perspectives. Plus, it’s always nice to meet someone new. Anne and Martin are just delightful people who were on their way back home to North Carolina from Portugal via Paris. Over cold Tattinger, we nibbled on pistachios brought back from Iran and pâté en croûte from Lyon and talked about travel, friends, and the election. The Europeans can’t understand what’s going on–Trump!?–and neither could any of us Americans in the group.

We moved to the beautifully set dining table for lamb stew with chanterelles, braised fennel, and another vegetable I couldn’t identify. I had seconds. Somehow I still had room for cheeses, thank goodness. V had sourced them at his favorite fromager one arrondissement over, in the 5th. A fine mix of perfectly ripe goat’s, cow’s, and sheep’s cheese. Yes, they’re amazing cheeses, but part of what makes the French cheese course so great is the baguette that goes along with it. And next came the homemade apple tart, served with a choice of Berthillon ice creams–salted caramel, chocolate, and vanilla. I sampled them all.

I thank V for a special memory, for the inspiration to throw more Sunday-night dinner parties, and for new friendships. Anne and Martin come to LA regularly. I’ll invite them for dinner at my place when they do!

A Moveable Feast.

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