Tuesday, March 25, 2008

Big French Meal

Not the first and certainly not the last. It was Easter this weekend, so we had a big lunch. As a starter there were these filled pastry cups. A creamy chicken/mushroom type filling. These are easy for me to finish. As the main meal, belle-maman (mother-in-law) made duck à l'orange. So tender and not overwhelmingly orange. A lady had given her the duck in exchange for a big rhubarb plant. Not sure who got the better deal here, though everyone knows a rhubarb plant is the gift that keeps on giving. Belle-maman does make a mean rhubarb pie.

Of course, this was served with steamed potatoes and green beans. I succesfully fended off their attempts to give me more meat, ensuring that I could actually finish what was already on my plate. Then cheese, of course. I opted for the spreadable cream one with garlic because I was pretty sure it was pasteurized. I'll tell you more about the difficulties of cheese-eating while pregnant in France another day.

Then, the dessert. Usually my favorite part. This year it was a cake with a light chocolate mousse filling. They call this cake a "nest" or nid since it's for Easter and there are little egg decorations on it. Those leafy like things you see are hiding orange persimmon fruits. They're so deliciously tangy. Anyway, belle-maman gave us huge, and I mean huge, portions. Everyone except grandad had trouble finishing their piece. I left part of the gooey chocolate end and was gonna go back to it later. Then I saw that she was preparing pieces of an ice cream cake, Viennetta style tiramisu. Without thinking or censoring, I said, "you're trying to kill us!" Luckily she took this in stride and said with a smile, "in every possible way."
French hubby and I barely survived all this sugar, and he's got a big sweet tooth as it is. Then on Michel Drucker (Sunday variety show), they were talking about Abba. I like their music, but after about four songs, I felt the same sugar overload as from the cake. All I was craving that night was a big piece of lettuce. And to think we're going to a restaurant next Sunday...

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