On Sunday John cooked up a French breakfast for us–complete with soft-boiled eggs, freshly-toasted baguette, ham (for the meat eaters) and steamed milk beverages for each member of the family. Really it tasted so much like we were in Paris, I was almost fooled for a moment.
So hats off to French breakfasts–what a pleasant way to start the Sabbath. And, FYI, I think that repeating event on John’s monthly calendar, the one that says “be extra nice to Dilly* this week,” is really paying off.
It’s nice to be so loved.
*Did you know this is John’s nickname for me? If not, you do now. ;)
I thought French people only had cigarettes and coffee for breakfast? Isn’t that how they stay so thin? ;-)
Sounds delicious, though. I love french style baguettes.
you’re probably right, JG. Perhaps our breakfasts in Paris were what they feed Americans when they travel to France?
Wow, that sounds good — I should try that. Maybe some restaurants here in town serve a breakfast like that.
At our house, we have a traditional French breakfast that’s a little closer to Journeygal’s description: coffee and two squares of chocolate, or if it’s a weekend coffee and a croissant from the local bakery.
=It’s nice to be so loved.=
Indeed. It is a very precious gift.
you are a lucky woman, jana! :o)