Dinner, a Frenchman, and My Breasts: A Love Story?

January 24, 2011
Mine! All mine! (Okay, maybe I'll share.)

Before you tell my husband that he’d better read today’s blog and ask me what the heck is going on, rest assured that there’s no hanky-panky, fake food, or other strange doings in our house. Nathan is well aware of everything I’m writing about, and he’s given me his Hubbins seal of approval, which is even more rigorous than Good Housekeeping’s.

First, and perhaps most important, is the subject of dinner. I’m still supporting the Meatless Monday campaign, and I encourage you to check out their website for inspiring vegetarian recipes that will improve your health as well as the health of our planet. Dinner for us tonight will be pizza with roasted vegetables—perhaps not that inspired, but an old favorite of mine. My current mantra: Serenity—and comfort food—now! Plus, this couldn’t be simpler: Start with one store-bought, ready-made pizza crust (Nana didn’t have this, but it’s just bread; plus, the French might eat it, so it’s still technically on my French Nana eating plan). Top that with feta cheese, sundried tomatoes, olives, and garlic and onions that have been sauteed for 10 minutes. Drizzle with olive oil, shake some salt and pepper on it, and bake at 350 for ten minutes. Serve with a simple green salad and call it a satisfying, easy meal.

Okay, so if I were you, right about now I’d be thinking—or even screaming—“Enough with the food talk! What’s up with the Frenchman?!” L’homme francais in question is none other than Chef Eric Ripert, who you may know from his cooking series Avec Eric and as a guest judge on Top Chef. For some crazy and fabulous reason, I’ve been invited to the Avec Eric book party tomorrow night! Verrrrry exciting… I’ll be meeting Chef Eric and eating hors d’ouevres inspired by his book’s recipes, hopefully not at the same time. (Noté bien for chef and food lovers: M. Ripert is a silver fox. See evidence below.)

Partying with a French chef is the universe’s gift to me for enduring a mammogram tomorrow afternoon. Not only am I due, despite what insurance companies and medical experts say, but I’ve found a lump in one of my breasts. I’m hoping it’s just a cyst, and I’ll let you know the results as soon as I do. Until then, I’m really grateful that I get to hang out with a French chef and eat some delish party snacks to keep me from nervously chewing my nails down to the knuckles.

Oh, and the love story part? That’s going home to my wonderful husband.
Xx and happy cooking,


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2 thoughts on “Dinner, a Frenchman, and My Breasts: A Love Story?

  1. You're the best. You also crack me up, and I love seeing your comments!
    Yes, thankfully the lump scare turned out to have all the importance of lumps in gravy, ie none. So glad that was your story, too. 🙂
    Have a great weekend!

  2. That pizza looks awesome.
    You crack me up.
    Eric Ripert's accent makes my toes twinkle.
    I'm sending you good thoughts and hope that your lump is nothing. I've had that scare twice and everything turned out okay.

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