Wednesday, December 17, 2008


I'm fatter today than I was yesterday.

For all its problems, Belgium does at least one thing quite well. Chocolate. And thanks or no thanks, depending on your point of view, to our in-house banker with happy clients (no, that isn't a misnomer) we were treated or tempted with a box last evening.

Fortunately not a large box, but substantial in caloric value nevertheless.

Who could resist that packaging. I'm a sucker for packaging. I guess it is my design education haunting me, but beautifully presented chocolate is like beautifully presented food. It can fool you into thinking it tastes better. We swear otherwise, but it can.

People packaging does the same thing. In lots of different ways. We don't swear otherwise, but we often forget.

I learned from my Mother. Never go out of the house in curlers. And I have kept that promise to this day. It was the least I could do... considering.

But fabulous chocolate packaging. That could be looked upon as a low blow. For those of us with inherent weakened conditions in front of dark chocolaty masses, it couldn't be any less than such.

To set it apart from the crowd, this one even added a literary touch...

Je craque
un peu, beaucoup,
á la folie.
Je craque
pour lui, pour elle,
pour toi, pour moi.
Je craque
le matin, le midi,
le soir,

I find that an extremely low blow in a high brow sort of way. But I'm making a note. This lesson could come in handy,

although a little expensive,

calorically speaking.

Monday, December 1, 2008

A Book Plug

I don't plug books often. But there is a book out by Susan Pinkard, A REVOLUTION IN TASTE, and if you like food, and history, and France, and if you can do without riveting plots filled with sex and violence, then this is probably a good bet for you.

OK, it isn't King or Grisham, but it rings all my bells. Well, most of them anyway.

If that didn't nix it for you, it covers the big change in French cooking starting in the middle of the 17th Century. (The British weren't too keen on the ideas coming out of France then, but how many British classics have you drooled over? The sauce starts here.