Chamonix’s formal name for the town is Chamonix-Mont Blanc. It is one of the oldest ski resorts in France and the site of the first winter Olympics in 1924. To this day there is some dispute between France and Italy as to whether the dividing line is over the top of the mountain or around the back side of the base of the mountain. Chamonix dates back to 1091 when land was given to the Benedictines to build a priory. No one really visited this area except a few religious officials to check up on the monks until the mid-18th century. Until that time only about 1800 people lived in the valley. The first successful ascent of Mont Blanc was in 1786 by Micheal-Gabriel Paceard and Jaques Balmat. Since then many more people have come through and the population has swelled to 9000 permanent residents due to tourism.
Les Houches is a smaller town about 6 km away from Chamonix. Its ski area is used every year for the Men’s Downhill World Cup Ski Championships. The French National Ski Team uses these runs as their training grounds as well as the Ski Club of Great Britain. Currently Les Houches is a favorite ski area of many from Great Britian and Ireland. We stayed in a wonderful Bed and Breakfast “Hotel Slalom” which is run by a British ex-pat. She serves the best breakfast anywhere and really understands the subtleties’ of her guests. She says she keeps ketchup for Americans who want it with their eggs, has some baked bean for the Brits, knows that the French usually take croissants and confiture, and still politely asks the Spanish if they would like anything to eat, knowing full well that they usually only take coffee before noon. We were made to feel welcome, given some of the best advice for local dining and encouraged us to meet some of the local characters.
Serge Cachat-Rosset is a local who is an extreme skiing legend. Extreme skiing is defined as skiing that can only take place on a 50 degree slope and the opportunity to fall off the side of the mountain must be ever present. On the front of his ski shop are several black and white poster sized shots of him making the first descent down the face of Aiguille Verte on August 1, 1973. Wearing a sweater, ski knickers and a pair of sunglasses, he was dropped out of a helicopter and made the descent in five hours. He’s an unassuming man and he greets everyone who comes into his shop with a guess of your boot size. He was spot on with ours. He will also select your skis and point you to the right gear you need, and nothing else. His advice for me when I told him I was falling a bit was to ski near some trees and use the branches to pull up! I will take that under advisement.
Les Houches has two other claims to fame; the first is for a famous physics summer school program “l’Ecole de Physique des Houches” which was started by Cecli DeWitt-Morette. Two dozen Nobel Prize winners have been either students or instructors at this summer school.
The second claim to fame for Les Houches is that it is the traditional starting and ending point for the Tour du Mont Blanc. This summer event is a seven plus day walk around the base of Mont Blanc covering areas of France, Italy and Switzerland. At 170 km long, it is considered to be one of the classic long distance walks in the world. More recently, the annual Ultra Trail du Mont Blanc is a mountain marathon which the participants cover the same ground usually in under 24 hours. The winning time is generally ~20 hours long. At that pace one would have a hard time enjoying the scenery or get a chance to have fondue!
Fondre is the French verb to melt. The original fondue is described in a cookbook published in Zurich in 1699 under the name “Kass mit Wein zu Kochen” meaning to cook cheese with wine and serve bread for dipping. That about describes it! Fondue is claimed by the Swiss, French and Italians in the region, but it has been the Swiss who have done the most to promote it as their national dish. The Swiss Cheese Union took up the cause in the 1930’s and continued by organizing kits to be sent to all military units so that they could always eat fondue. In 1950 a Swiss restaurateur, Konrad Egli introduced fondue bourguignonne (meat cooked in hot oil) at his Chalet Suisse restaurant in New York City. Konrad Egli did not stop there, in the mid-1960’s he invented chocolate fondue as part of a promotion for Toblerone chocolate.
Cheese fondue is made by blending several grated cheeses, wine and seasonings. The emulsion is stabilized by adding a little bit of cornstarch. The temperature is held such that the cheese stays melted, but does not burn. If this is done correctly, at the bottom of the pot, there will remain a crispy layer called “la religieuse” the nun in French. This is lifted from the pot, broken into pieces and eaten. Certain etiquette applies when one eats fondue: if a man loses his bread into the pot, he buys a round of drinks for his table. If a woman loses her bread, then she has to kiss the person next to her. Of course there is no double dipping, and you are supposed to use your fondue fork only to dip the bread and bring it to your plate, not bring the dipped bread directly to your mouth. Your dinner fork should transfer the dipped bread to your mouth! Next time I will know!
Monday, February 4, 2013
Wednesday, December 5, 2012
Photos, Salvador Dali, November 2012
Museum in Figueres, Spain
Sculpture in Figueres, Spain
Dali in Cadaques, Spain
Portlligat, Spain
Museum in Portlligat, Spain
Museum entrance
Studio in Portlligat
Studio in Portlligat
Moving easel in Portlligat
Living area in Portlligat
Yard at Portlligat
Poolside Chair, Portlligat
Pool at Portlligat
View from Pool area, Portlligat
Salvador Dali, November 2012
Salvador Dali was born in Figueres, Spain 108 years ago. He left quite an impact on his home town and areas along the Costa Brava. We visited the coastal area of Spain this past November and were able to see the areas where he spent much of his time. Dali credits the landscape and light of Catalonia Spain for influencing his works. The small villages of the Costa Brava and city of Figueres embraced their most famous artistic son and seem to have dealt with his rather strange and frequently absurd antics. Dali seems to be omnipresent.
Dali was born on May 11, 1904 in the small city of Figueres. He had an older brother also named Salvador who died 9 months before he was born. Salvador Dali’s parents told him when he was 5 years old that he was the reincarnation of his brother. It is said that he believed this concept. At an early age he took up drawing and attended drawing school. Dali’s father held exhibits of his works in their home in Figueres when he was a young teenager. On a family vacation in Cadaques, Dali was exposed to modern painting styles due to the artists that came to the area every summer. He went to the Fine Art School in Madrid where he had a reputation as a “dandy” for his behavior and style of dress. He was expelled from the school right before his graduation because he was supposed to have caused unrest. In 1929 Dali meets his life-long muse Gala. Dali’s father does not approve and bans him from the family homes. Undaunted, Dali moves to the next village over, Portlligat, rents a fishing house. Over the years, Dali purchases several of these fishing houses and makes them his primary residence. Eventually Dali and his father reconcile their differences.
Salvador Dali’s reputation throughout his life remains one of controversy. He was not one to clearly state his political views, and leaves Europe during WWII. He comes to the United States, settles in New York City and is welcomed by the arts scene there. After WWII and when things settle after the Spanish Civil War, Dali moves back to Spain. His career is managed financially by Gala, who is wise with the money and they are able to have quite the elaborate jet set life.
Dali is not only a painter, but a sculptor, a jeweler, a furniture designer, a fashion design consultant and dabbled in film. He also fancied himself as a scientist and mathematician. His was said to have been intrigued by the great minds of his day: Einstein, Freud and others. His art was influenced by celebrities like Mae West and also scientific events like the atomic bombs and discoveries of DNA structure. He also did early work in holographics. His studio in Portlligat shows many ingenious modifications. Many of the mirrors in the house help to build optical illusions and a mirror on a wall was placed such that he was able to catch the first morning light from his bed. The walls of his studio were built so that the canvass was able to move along the easel so that the area he was working on was easily reached from his favorite chair.
Dali was one of the ultimate self-promoters. He designed three museums for himself to display his works. The main museum is in Figueres. It is a theatre and museum of paintings, sculpture and jewelry. His mausoleum is there. Dali set the visiting schedule such that only certain numbers of people would be in the museum at a given time. Hence the very long line the day we were there. We did not get into the museum, but enjoyed the building and sculptures all around town. The second museum is nearby, and is dedicated to Gala. The Castell Gala Dali holds many of their belongings and much of Gala’s haute couture clothing.
And third is his home in Portlligat. Originally several fishing houses, Dali purchased them over time and connected them in a bizarre labyrinth. Tickets are ordered online, however we did not have a ticket. Since it was November, we thought that maybe we could get in anyway. We were told to wait to see if everyone showed up, and if not could go in with the next group. Luck was with us and we were able to tour the museum. It was a strange mixture of everyday rooms and insights into some of the wildest imagination. We saw living quarters and studios, works that were never completed and many things that were. Most interesting was that every location both inside and outside had wonderful views of the sea and surrounding mountains. The day we visited, the weather was windy with scattered showers. We were able to see a bit of the wild landscape that the Costa Brava is famous for.
Dali’s health deteriorated in the 1980’s. It is thought that Gala, who by this time was senile, may have been giving him his medicine. She may have given him dosages of medicines and other things that caused tremors and a Parkinson’s like condition. After Gala died in 1982, Dali lost much of his will to live. He has several suspicious incidents that could have been suicide attempts. His friends take him to Figueres to care for him until his death in 1989. Rumor has it that during his final years some people had him sign a number of blank canvases; so much of his later work may be forgeries. Dali is an interesting figure and still dominates much of the local area where we visited.
Dali was born on May 11, 1904 in the small city of Figueres. He had an older brother also named Salvador who died 9 months before he was born. Salvador Dali’s parents told him when he was 5 years old that he was the reincarnation of his brother. It is said that he believed this concept. At an early age he took up drawing and attended drawing school. Dali’s father held exhibits of his works in their home in Figueres when he was a young teenager. On a family vacation in Cadaques, Dali was exposed to modern painting styles due to the artists that came to the area every summer. He went to the Fine Art School in Madrid where he had a reputation as a “dandy” for his behavior and style of dress. He was expelled from the school right before his graduation because he was supposed to have caused unrest. In 1929 Dali meets his life-long muse Gala. Dali’s father does not approve and bans him from the family homes. Undaunted, Dali moves to the next village over, Portlligat, rents a fishing house. Over the years, Dali purchases several of these fishing houses and makes them his primary residence. Eventually Dali and his father reconcile their differences.
Salvador Dali’s reputation throughout his life remains one of controversy. He was not one to clearly state his political views, and leaves Europe during WWII. He comes to the United States, settles in New York City and is welcomed by the arts scene there. After WWII and when things settle after the Spanish Civil War, Dali moves back to Spain. His career is managed financially by Gala, who is wise with the money and they are able to have quite the elaborate jet set life.
Dali is not only a painter, but a sculptor, a jeweler, a furniture designer, a fashion design consultant and dabbled in film. He also fancied himself as a scientist and mathematician. His was said to have been intrigued by the great minds of his day: Einstein, Freud and others. His art was influenced by celebrities like Mae West and also scientific events like the atomic bombs and discoveries of DNA structure. He also did early work in holographics. His studio in Portlligat shows many ingenious modifications. Many of the mirrors in the house help to build optical illusions and a mirror on a wall was placed such that he was able to catch the first morning light from his bed. The walls of his studio were built so that the canvass was able to move along the easel so that the area he was working on was easily reached from his favorite chair.
Dali was one of the ultimate self-promoters. He designed three museums for himself to display his works. The main museum is in Figueres. It is a theatre and museum of paintings, sculpture and jewelry. His mausoleum is there. Dali set the visiting schedule such that only certain numbers of people would be in the museum at a given time. Hence the very long line the day we were there. We did not get into the museum, but enjoyed the building and sculptures all around town. The second museum is nearby, and is dedicated to Gala. The Castell Gala Dali holds many of their belongings and much of Gala’s haute couture clothing.
And third is his home in Portlligat. Originally several fishing houses, Dali purchased them over time and connected them in a bizarre labyrinth. Tickets are ordered online, however we did not have a ticket. Since it was November, we thought that maybe we could get in anyway. We were told to wait to see if everyone showed up, and if not could go in with the next group. Luck was with us and we were able to tour the museum. It was a strange mixture of everyday rooms and insights into some of the wildest imagination. We saw living quarters and studios, works that were never completed and many things that were. Most interesting was that every location both inside and outside had wonderful views of the sea and surrounding mountains. The day we visited, the weather was windy with scattered showers. We were able to see a bit of the wild landscape that the Costa Brava is famous for.
Dali’s health deteriorated in the 1980’s. It is thought that Gala, who by this time was senile, may have been giving him his medicine. She may have given him dosages of medicines and other things that caused tremors and a Parkinson’s like condition. After Gala died in 1982, Dali lost much of his will to live. He has several suspicious incidents that could have been suicide attempts. His friends take him to Figueres to care for him until his death in 1989. Rumor has it that during his final years some people had him sign a number of blank canvases; so much of his later work may be forgeries. Dali is an interesting figure and still dominates much of the local area where we visited.
Tuesday, November 27, 2012
Photos of Cadaques, Spain, November 2012
Cadaques
Scenery from trail
Santa Maria
Altar in Santa Maria
Medieval town
Trail to lighthouse
Cadaques at sunset
Cadaques, Spain, November 2012
Cadaques is a former fishing village in the north eastern corner of Spain along the Mediterranean almost at the boarder of France. The area is called the Costa Brava, due to the wild landscape and weather. During the winter, the wind, called the “Tramuntana” whips off the Pyrenees Mountains and churns the Mediterranean Sea to a “boil”. Fisherman have lived here since ancient times, the only way in and out of the town was by sea. Now a steep windy road connects the Cap de Creus to other places along the coast. Driving in and out of town in the daylight is highly recommended. We made the mistake of arriving just dark fell. It was fast as the sun dropped like a rock behind the mountains. Our GPS was not well equipped to the streets of Cadaques. At one point, we were heading down a tight narrow dirt road with high stone walls on either side, the car barely fit through! A man on a motorcycle assured us it was safe for vehicles-dirt bikes, like the one he had perhaps. A second pass to find the hotel had us taking a small narrow street that turned into a staircase. We had to back out several hundred meters in the pitch black night. After finding the hotel, we parked the car and did not get back in until leaving two days later. Good thing Cadaques is a nice small town with plenty to keep us busy.
Cadaques has a walled medieval part of town that is dominated by Santa Maria Church. Santa Maria was built between the 16th and 17th centuries. The church itself is gothic style, but the newer altar piece is a giant work of Baroque sculpture. You can put a euro in the box, press a switch and the altar lights up. It is massive; over 23 meters high with multiple carvings and scenes dedicated to Our Lady of Hope.
An interesting tidbit of early 20th century history is that almost a third of the town’s population immigrated to Cuba, approximately 1200 people. A number of those who made their fortunes came back and built the elaborate houses in Cadaques that you see around the harbor and lining the hillsides.
Cadaques has scenery and light that artists have appreciated and made famous. Salvador Dali is perhaps the most famous artist of the town. His family visited there often during his childhood and he made is home in the next town over, Portlligat. Artists who spent time creating in the town include Pablo Picasso, Mei Fren, Angel Planells, and Marcel Duchamp among others. Several galleries and workshops are present with their works circulating. We visited a gallery of an elderly gentleman who is a local photographer that spent much time with Dali and was permitted to capture his daily life on film. Many of the intimate photographs are on display in his shop. If I were a bit savvier, I would have probably recognized many other celebrities and artists in the photos. It is an interesting look at the history of the time period.
We took a fairly short hike (6-7 km round trip) on the Cala Nans that leads you to a light house. All along the trail, you get beautiful vistas of the town, the cliffs and the sea. Cadaques is surrounded by park, so longer trails are available. You can connect trails and go from town to town along the coast, or use Cadaques and a base for out and back day trips. I recommend that so you have the opportunity to come back for dinner or tapas and an early morning coffee and pastry. Try Cadaques in the off season, as there are about 2000 residents, but many, many more visitors in the summer. We went the first weekend in November, and had a wonderful time.
Cadaques has a walled medieval part of town that is dominated by Santa Maria Church. Santa Maria was built between the 16th and 17th centuries. The church itself is gothic style, but the newer altar piece is a giant work of Baroque sculpture. You can put a euro in the box, press a switch and the altar lights up. It is massive; over 23 meters high with multiple carvings and scenes dedicated to Our Lady of Hope.
An interesting tidbit of early 20th century history is that almost a third of the town’s population immigrated to Cuba, approximately 1200 people. A number of those who made their fortunes came back and built the elaborate houses in Cadaques that you see around the harbor and lining the hillsides.
Cadaques has scenery and light that artists have appreciated and made famous. Salvador Dali is perhaps the most famous artist of the town. His family visited there often during his childhood and he made is home in the next town over, Portlligat. Artists who spent time creating in the town include Pablo Picasso, Mei Fren, Angel Planells, and Marcel Duchamp among others. Several galleries and workshops are present with their works circulating. We visited a gallery of an elderly gentleman who is a local photographer that spent much time with Dali and was permitted to capture his daily life on film. Many of the intimate photographs are on display in his shop. If I were a bit savvier, I would have probably recognized many other celebrities and artists in the photos. It is an interesting look at the history of the time period.
We took a fairly short hike (6-7 km round trip) on the Cala Nans that leads you to a light house. All along the trail, you get beautiful vistas of the town, the cliffs and the sea. Cadaques is surrounded by park, so longer trails are available. You can connect trails and go from town to town along the coast, or use Cadaques and a base for out and back day trips. I recommend that so you have the opportunity to come back for dinner or tapas and an early morning coffee and pastry. Try Cadaques in the off season, as there are about 2000 residents, but many, many more visitors in the summer. We went the first weekend in November, and had a wonderful time.
Sunday, November 25, 2012
Photos, Thanksgiving November 2012
Whole Turkey 
Turkey in pieces
Ready for the oven
Perfectly roasted
What a pie!
Thanksgiving in Toulouse, November 2012
This was my first Thanksgiving living outside of the United States. Of the holidays that are to be missed, this felt like one to recreate here in Toulouse. The question became how to accomplish the goal. I have been to the markets almost daily, and I have not seen a whole turkey, or even turkey parts for that matter. Questioning a few locals, I found out that whole turkeys are available at Christmas time, and that few actually have ovens big enough to handle the bird. I had a friend offer to call her butcher and see if a special order for a whole turkey was possible. She called early in November and they could special order a turkey for November 20th, no problem. How big? They said a 6-7 kg (13-16#) bird would be possible. I thought that would fit just fine in my biggest pan and into the oven.
The rest of the meal should be fairly easy to put together. I saved all the ends of the baguettes to make the dressing, found a small pumpkin-like squash, and sweet potatoes are in season now. I knew it would be bad form to take haricots verts and turn them into the magical green bean casserole with fried onions on top, so I opted for Brussels sprouts. Pecan pie is a favorite of my husband, and a little more difficult to recreate. Pecans are not generally available here, so I paid 38 euro per kilo for pecans to decorate the top of the pie, the rest were almonds. The real problem was the corn syrup; there just isn’t any! But most grocery stores here have a British section, so there was Lyle’s Golden Syrup. I used that instead, and the pie was fabulous!
November 20th arrived, and it was the day to collect the turkey. The butcher shop is about a mile from our house, so I set out with a sack and a plan to ride a Velo-bike back home with the turkey in the front basket. When I got to the butcher shop, I said I am the American who ordered the whole turkey. The butcher went in back and brought out the biggest turkey I had seen in a long time. It was nothing like the tightly packaged Butterball from Kroger! It was huge, pink and the legs stuck out from the sides of it as if it was under protest of being put in the sack. Well, the butcher put it on the scale and it weighed in over 10 kilograms! A full third bigger than the biggest bird I was hoping for! He asked me if I wanted it entire, and I said yes. I was imagining the size of the oven and my pan and I thought it would be ok, but just barely. He wrapped it up for me and put it in my sack. I picked it up and almost fell over. My plan for the bike was gone. The giant turkey was bigger than the basket, and it might make operating the bike dangerous for me and others on the road in the event of the turkey falling out! I just didn’t think I could ride the bike home so front loaded without crashing! I had no choice but to carry it back home. I slung it over my shoulder, slid it across my back, cupped my hands under and piggybacked it home. That was the longest mile I have ever walked!
Once home, I pulled out the pan and shoved the turkey in. It was hanging over the edges, and when I put the pan in the oven, the turkey legs kicked the oven door back open. So much for the entire turkey! It had to come apart. I’ve taken apart whole chickens, but nothing like this! I sharpened my best chef’s knife- a Wusthof 8” Cook’s knife and went to work. I decided I would break it down only as far as needed to fit into the oven, keeping with the whole turkey spirit that I envisioned. Well, first the drumsticks and wings came off, and still no go into the oven. Off came the rest of the legs. I eventually had to split the back in two pieces to fit in my Dutch oven. I had to remove a shelf from my fridge to fit the pieces in.
Now I needed a game plan for getting all of the food out, hot at 7 pm two days from now. I started Wednesday bright and early making the potatoes. They were a take on Pommes Anna, mixing white and sweet potatoes into stacks. They baked up nicely! Then the pies; the pumpkin first followed by the pecan pie. The dressing went in last and all I had left was to prep the Brussels sprouts. I sliced a giant pile of them in two, salted and put a bit of sugar on them to help the carmelization. Into the fridge they went, on top of the giant pile of turkey parts. They could cook on the stove while the turkey roasted.
Thursday, game day! Turkeys here in France are not as disproportionate as American turkeys. The legs and breast are in proportion: meaning the legs are huge! There is a lack of fat and they have not been pre-injected with broth. Cooking this turkey would take some tricks to keep the meat from drying out. I loosened up the skin and slid butter and black truffles under it. I covered the breast in foil and started roasting. I had to baste with turkey stock during the last hour to keep it from drying out-not much fat on this bird! Three hours later, I pulled a beautiful roast turkey breast from the oven. The rest went in one batch at a time in Dutch ovens. Finally at 7 pm on November 22, the guests arrived and we all were thankful! I was most thankful for my friend who ordered the turkey and my knife that helped me get it in the oven! The food was delicious! The only problem we had was with our cable service; ESPN America was not working, so European Football replaced American Football. Cable TV in France is another story!
Happy Thanksgiving from Toulouse!
The rest of the meal should be fairly easy to put together. I saved all the ends of the baguettes to make the dressing, found a small pumpkin-like squash, and sweet potatoes are in season now. I knew it would be bad form to take haricots verts and turn them into the magical green bean casserole with fried onions on top, so I opted for Brussels sprouts. Pecan pie is a favorite of my husband, and a little more difficult to recreate. Pecans are not generally available here, so I paid 38 euro per kilo for pecans to decorate the top of the pie, the rest were almonds. The real problem was the corn syrup; there just isn’t any! But most grocery stores here have a British section, so there was Lyle’s Golden Syrup. I used that instead, and the pie was fabulous!
November 20th arrived, and it was the day to collect the turkey. The butcher shop is about a mile from our house, so I set out with a sack and a plan to ride a Velo-bike back home with the turkey in the front basket. When I got to the butcher shop, I said I am the American who ordered the whole turkey. The butcher went in back and brought out the biggest turkey I had seen in a long time. It was nothing like the tightly packaged Butterball from Kroger! It was huge, pink and the legs stuck out from the sides of it as if it was under protest of being put in the sack. Well, the butcher put it on the scale and it weighed in over 10 kilograms! A full third bigger than the biggest bird I was hoping for! He asked me if I wanted it entire, and I said yes. I was imagining the size of the oven and my pan and I thought it would be ok, but just barely. He wrapped it up for me and put it in my sack. I picked it up and almost fell over. My plan for the bike was gone. The giant turkey was bigger than the basket, and it might make operating the bike dangerous for me and others on the road in the event of the turkey falling out! I just didn’t think I could ride the bike home so front loaded without crashing! I had no choice but to carry it back home. I slung it over my shoulder, slid it across my back, cupped my hands under and piggybacked it home. That was the longest mile I have ever walked!
Once home, I pulled out the pan and shoved the turkey in. It was hanging over the edges, and when I put the pan in the oven, the turkey legs kicked the oven door back open. So much for the entire turkey! It had to come apart. I’ve taken apart whole chickens, but nothing like this! I sharpened my best chef’s knife- a Wusthof 8” Cook’s knife and went to work. I decided I would break it down only as far as needed to fit into the oven, keeping with the whole turkey spirit that I envisioned. Well, first the drumsticks and wings came off, and still no go into the oven. Off came the rest of the legs. I eventually had to split the back in two pieces to fit in my Dutch oven. I had to remove a shelf from my fridge to fit the pieces in.
Now I needed a game plan for getting all of the food out, hot at 7 pm two days from now. I started Wednesday bright and early making the potatoes. They were a take on Pommes Anna, mixing white and sweet potatoes into stacks. They baked up nicely! Then the pies; the pumpkin first followed by the pecan pie. The dressing went in last and all I had left was to prep the Brussels sprouts. I sliced a giant pile of them in two, salted and put a bit of sugar on them to help the carmelization. Into the fridge they went, on top of the giant pile of turkey parts. They could cook on the stove while the turkey roasted.
Thursday, game day! Turkeys here in France are not as disproportionate as American turkeys. The legs and breast are in proportion: meaning the legs are huge! There is a lack of fat and they have not been pre-injected with broth. Cooking this turkey would take some tricks to keep the meat from drying out. I loosened up the skin and slid butter and black truffles under it. I covered the breast in foil and started roasting. I had to baste with turkey stock during the last hour to keep it from drying out-not much fat on this bird! Three hours later, I pulled a beautiful roast turkey breast from the oven. The rest went in one batch at a time in Dutch ovens. Finally at 7 pm on November 22, the guests arrived and we all were thankful! I was most thankful for my friend who ordered the turkey and my knife that helped me get it in the oven! The food was delicious! The only problem we had was with our cable service; ESPN America was not working, so European Football replaced American Football. Cable TV in France is another story!
Happy Thanksgiving from Toulouse!
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