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I was explaining to Liam last night, how the Revolution going on inside of me, that’s Evolution with an R, is all about the Table.

It’s funny in France, because it simply seeps in. It’s as if all the beyond-belief fresh produce full of flavor is putting out a constant mantra of ‘eat me’.

I’ve been catching myself listening, without realizing it.

Ooh, that isn’t quite fresh enough…hmmmm…that’s a little tough around the edges…how about this one…

I’m cooking dinner right now — we have friends coming over.

How things have changed:)

We’re having:

Soupe de Tapinambour avec Foie Gras

Followed by

Roast Lamb with Roasted Winter Root Vegetables au Jus

With complimentary Bordeaux

Followed by

Salade Verte avec Roquefort and candied walnuts (from the tree down the lane)…

Followed by

Tarte des Pommes avec Creme Anglais

Here are the ingredients:

Good friends who like to share their lives with each other,

An agreed upon rendevous time,

A readied Table to sit around, with

A meal to talk from,

And a roaring fire in the hearth.

It is COMMON here on Sundays, to have a FULL meal at midi — noon.

What has happened for us when invited? We love to go.

It’s slow food in motion.

Conversations about everything and nothing — in French, English, Russian — it depends on who’s in for the meal at which table.

Space in between sentences. Bites of food.

A promenade.

We come back completely satiated.

And then we take a nap to recover.

Because of the Table?

I  learn — to cook — and what that really means.

Today — and this is one of the side benefits — I’ve spent the DAY preparing…it is an extraordinary pleasure to putter about the kitchen from one part of the meal to the other, bringing it forward…

It all happens at the Table.

Well, actually, it starts at the market…

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