a brutish invasion

There is totally room for potatoes in all the gaps in the meat section. Especially if you slow-roast and mash them..mmmm

There is totally room for potatoes in all the gaps in the meat section. If you slow-roast and mash them, they’ll definitely fit… mmmm.

High on the list of things that may be the worst idea in the world: attempting to eat a Paleo diet while living in France.  Look.  It seemed like a good idea when I got here, and it didn’t seem so tough to implement with some deregulations – at home my pantry is paleo-friendly, and when I go out I can eat what I want, although I haven’t tended to stray too far just yet.  But then I went to London and gorged myself on potatoes.  (There was some wine in there too.) And now that I’ve been back for one day, I’m in potato withdrawal.  (Not even bread… clearly I’ve got some Irish in me somewhere!) Read More

nothing rhymes with Tuscany

When I ran my wine club in New York – and when I write that, picture me and 6 of my closest friends hanging out every month; the only thing that made it a wine club instead of a totally normal boozy hangout was the following – I wrote an email to all the attendees a week in advance.  It was intended as a wine facts cheatsheet so that we all knew a little something about the region we were tasting that month and could casually factdrop with each other as we sipped. Serious research went into this (I remember, because I often fell down rabbit holes while poring over websites and winebooks to put them together when the work I got paid for sat idly by), but it was also not-so-secretly a vehicle for me to up my previous personal puns-per-paragraph record.  The puns were typically literary or musical in nature, though sometimes meandered through pop culture territory.  Wherever these ideas come from, I can’t turn it off, so if you plan to return to this blog, you have officially been forewarned. Read More

great grapes are not born great, they grow great

This is one offer you won't refuse

This is one offer you can’t refuse

I’m misquoting the Godfather here but the recipe for greatness in men is not so different from the recipe for greatness in wine. Well, there’s a little more to it… science, I suspect, a little sun and rain, and a certain je ne sais quoi imbued by each individual winemaker.  Anyhoodle, ask me again in two years; once I have my Masters in Winemaking, I’ll know for sure!

I almost named this post “the grapes of wrath” to describe my thus-far frustrated long-distance apartment search in Bordeaux. For the first time in… ever… my apartment hunting resume is not a clarion call to high quality landlords and fascinating potential roommates to come running and implore me to pick them.  It’s probably my mechanical French throwing them off (…Je suis une étudiante canadienne. J’aime du vin. Je parle comme un robot, mais je vous promets que je ne suis pas ça.  bip boop.), but I’m sure my sunny personality will win(e) them over when I am there in person in just over a month!

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