In contrast but equally as pleasant was this past Thanksgiving in Paris. My dear Hot Blonde Cousin had decided to travel over from London for the weekend, and we were happy to be invited to a lovely soirée in honor of the day. My American friends who have a gorgeous apartment on the Seine finally decided to host the event for their final year in France, and let me just say, they may not hold galas very often, but when they do, they go all out. After a day of work followed by a jaunt to Gare du Nord to pick up my cousin, we stopped en route to purchase some wine and cheese and finally made it to the party. We were greeted at the door by mouthwatering smells of cooking turkey and almost immediately handed a glass of champagne. Our gracious host and hostess made sure to keep our glasses filled all evening while we hobnobbed around, meeting new friends throughout the night. Not only that, but the lovely couple had actually tracked down chafing dishes and showered us with mountains of food, ranging from turkey to lamb, potatoes to cranberry sauce, pies, wine, and liqueurs.
It was the quintessential notion of what an American Thanksgiving usually represents. We spent the evening gorging on munchies, drinking excessively, and sharing stories. It was also an overindulgent beginning to what would be a weekend full of wine and food and then some more wine and some more food. Let the holidays begin!!!