Every now and then, Thanksgiving falls on my birthday, November 26. Such was the case this year.
Rounded up a few friends and told them that, in traditional Thanksgiving style, they needed to bring something for the meal. Ended up with imported cranberries and roast potatoes from Bayge's garden, wild mushrooms collected by Marco, and a home made pumpkin pie from Elisabeth and a collection of fabulous music from Franck. I splurged on a pot of foie gras spread on slivers of toasted raisin bread, stuffed a turkey breast and made a tarte tatin with the remaining apples my neighbours, the Stuckes, pressed on me before leaving for South Africa. Six of us managed to consume four bottles of champagne and this morning I reeled into Gym Tonique, made a u-turn, and went back to bed.