After a short respite at the apartment, Richard and I decided to strike out for dinner. We headed in a different direction from where we had gone before, and at first it seems like a complete failure. Most of the places were closed on a May Day Sunday evening, and the prospects were grim. Ultimately, however, we found at place that served food.
To my delight, the only food they served was exactly the food I wanted. That would be chacuterie — that is, meat and cheese. One plate was filled with different kinds of cheese, and the other was filled with different kinds of meat. It was exactly what I wanted — prosciutto, and dry sausage, and ground duck, and a combination of duck and pork pate on one plate, and different kinds of cheese — goat cheese, and Edam, and Camembert, and other cheeses on the other. Combine them with a few Belgian beers (and here I’m thinking of you, Mr. Duhamel) and you have the perfect dinner.
Then we came home, and Richard taught me how to play a weird variant of seven-card Gin Rummy, and he kicked my butt in the process. We had the windows of the apartment wide open, and were listening to the Beatles on the iPod as we heard the students of the Sorbonne pass by below.
It was not a bad night.