If you read my last post, I assume you were dazzled by the restrained elegance with which I planned to greet the New Year. Foie gras, little toasts, Cristal... Well, last night (the 30th) the foie gras disappeared. Himself may have had something to do with it and truth to tell, I may have helped. Ran to the butcher this morning and returned with a rib roast. So my visions of sipping elegantly with Alain Delon (when young) have been replaced by thoughts of slurping with Henry VIII (in his Charles Laughton stage).
|from the terrace last NYE|
Nothin' wrong with a good meal, it's just that enough people don't have them.