French Fried
Page 25
Carolyn took the whole thing very cheerfully. She pointed out that the airlines couldn’t refuse to change our tickets under the circumstances, and the extra days, however many there were, would allow us to visit all kinds of interesting places in southern France. I would have liked to see Marseilles and Toulouse, but they were out because their youths were torching whatever they could get to. Carolyn wanted to see Albi, which had an “amazing” fortress church and was the seat of the heresy that so intrigued her, not to mention Carcassone, the largest walled fortress in Europe.
What could I say? Obviously, I’d be taking busses and trains all over the area until the French government got the uprising in hand. My department wouldn’t be pleased when I didn’t arrive back in El Paso for classes, but they couldn’t expect us to make our way home through hordes of rioting kids.
At least I was happy to see my wife unstressed and excited about future sightseeing. “Did the doctor say anything about what you could and couldn’t do while your ankle is healing?” I asked.
“I told you he said I should walk on it, and I have, and I intend to keep doing so.”
“I wasn’t thinking of that,” I murmured and sent her a look that has passed between us many times over the years.
Carolyn started to laugh. “Oh, that won’t be a problem, Jason. I’ll just wear the boot to bed.”
“Really? I’ve never made love to a booted woman.”
“Well, we are on vacation,” she replied, eyes dancing.
“Vacations lend themselves for new experiences. I wonder when they’ll get out of our room. Not soon, I’d imagine. Maybe we should go out to dinner while we’re waiting. I heard about a wonderful restaurant at the Hotel de la Mirande, very sophisticated.”
“What a romantic woman you are,” I retorted. “I sometimes think you’re more interested in food than you are in me. And just how expensive is this sophisticated restaurant?”
“Very,” she replied, “but worth every penny.”
Was my Carolyn talking about the food or the dessert she’d promised when we got back? Still, we were both alive and on good terms. Why not? “Let’s go.”
She gave me a kiss and jumped up. “We’ll need to get clothes from the room. We can’t go to Hotel de la Mirande dressed in wine-spattered outfits. And goodness, Jason, I wonder if the poison on the fabrics could soak through our skin.”
I doubted it, but just to be safe I agreed to a change of clothes.
Then Carolyn bad another thought. “I wonder if my black dress has been repaired yet. I’ll have Bridget call the shop and ask.”
“Great. Just as a long as you don’t wear high heels.”
“But, Jason, I could only wear one, and then I’d be unbalanced again. Physically. Did you know that Albertine called me deranged?”
I didn’t but had to admit to myself that sometimes my wife, as loveable as she is, does seem a bit deranged. Perhaps eccentric would be a better word.
Recipe Index
Tomato Soup with Ginger and Shrimp
Salade Lyonnaise
Cervelle de Canute
Artichoke Hearts with Foie Gras
Bresse Chicken Fricasseed in Cream Sauce
Gratin Dauphinois
Tapenade
Café Glace with Whiskey
Provençal Vegetable Soup with Pistou
Ratatouille
La Daube de Boeuf a’Avignonnaise
Lemon-Thyme Lamb Chops
1
Be sure that the choke has been completely removed from the artichoke.