Sardines.

Lunch today included sardines, sliced bottarga (salted cured fish eggs) and lovely, finely curled carrot shucks. I was eating at Emma and Davide's house. (Emma is our lovely lady who coined "agressive bonjour-ing" and Davide is my favorite Italian in Paris). So, despite my being in France for almost three years, I still am not adept at attacking, deboning and eating a fish in its entirety. Sardines in this form are, in fact, fit for a king. The only problem is that I feel continual fright that I'm swallowing bones that will cut me up inside. (So far, so good). Otherwise, I do like this sort of lunch and fear that once I am back in New York, lunches like these will be scarce.





More dismally, Emma and Davide will be scarce. I love these two so. Here is one reason why: Davide's explanations of things. (In this instance, he is explaining why one must have his shower at night and not in the morning. This conversation started with the idea that a draft from a window after a shower was particularly harmful to a person - one's skin in this state is particularly susceptible. Mostly I enjoy his matter-of-fact manner of explaining these ideas).