All my favorite food bloggers have been to Paris this month.  Sigh.  While I am incredibly happy for them, I am so sad for me.  I have never been to Paris.  Well, once, when I was 5 and it was only the airport, a lay-over on our trip to Israel.  I clearly remember changing clothes in the airport, between two towels held up by my parents.  That’s it.  That’s my Paris memory.

For better French memories, I direct you to this post by the Hippo and this one as well.  Also, this one from Lady Gouda.

What were we eating while everyone else was out gallivanting across the French countryside?  This:

That would be homemade bread, fruit salad and eggs in ham cups.

It wasn’t French food but it was tasty.  I could almost pretend that I was away someplace exotic.


At least I have these two to make me smile (they’re better than France, really.  But not nearly as delicious.):

Coming up (when I have time) a birthday dinner, some family food memories and meatballs.  Stay tuned!


2 thoughts on “Jealous

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