Thanksgiving in Paris happened twice and was full of:
Beautifully dressed tables. Chicken.
Southern biscuits. Feline entertainment and cuteness. Laughs. Friends. Champagne.
My pumpkin bread.
A raspberry tarte.
Franco-American merriment.
Frosnac wine from 1978.
Turkey.
Comté de Noël.
Lola’s Cookies snickerdoodles + pie
Happy bellies.
Thanksgiving as an expat doesn’t have to feel any less warm and festive than it would back home. I feel fortunate to have been surrounded by people who were also seeking a taste of familiarity in the form of good company, obscene amounts of delicious food and welcomed lethargy. Lucky for us, we were able to share it with a handful of Frenchies who were after, more or less, the same thing.
…
