Travel Diary: When I’m… 63? | EUROtoday

As meals was the principle subject of our dialog. I attempted exhausting to seem at the least a bit of bit educated, however finally simply got here out with the reality – that my husband cooked much better than me. She reacted as have all my French girlfriends since that day – with shock and envy. I nonetheless do not get that. In a world so dominated by male French cooks, why do girls settle for the function of chief chef so naturally? Perhaps fearful by my revelation, she invited my husband and me over for dinner.

After our three-course meal within the formal eating room, we have been invited into the lounge, the place we have been supplied an infusion to help with digestion. Called verbena (verbena), the leaves had been collected from one of many bushes exterior, crushed and thrown right into a pot with boiling water. It tasted like a refreshing combination of chamomile and mint. Clearly, my headiness upon departure had nothing to do with the non-alcoholic drink, however I did really feel concurrently pepped up and relaxed. Not solely had we acquired our first invitation out within the Haute-Savoie, however we had additionally made it by means ofthis primary social operate: consuming and ingesting all that had been put in entrance of us and managing to seek out sufficient issues to speak about.

Aside the vainness of youthful aspirations, I used to be motivated. Could I, too, be taught when and how one can sow, fertilize, trim, decide, prepare dinner and eat what I develop?

Certainly. I understand how to eat. It’s simply the remaining that wants some work.

Read our different Carnet de Voyage entries right here.