They say your twenties are for being selfish. They fail to mention, however, how much living abroad amplifies the tendency. As much as it embarrasses me to admit, I'm not entirely looking forward to going home. I'm afraid to face the imperfections of the rest of my reality with the research timer on my master's thesis set and my Parisian life on pause. But, on particular days like this one, I'm especially reminded to appreciate these self-centered concerns. Because, really... how blessed can someone be to have loved ones unconditionally support her ambitions, to enjoy time and space to study her passions, to belong to more than one place? And, to celebrate her favoritest holiday multiple times before reuniting with family for the next two in New York. I'm thinking,
very.
I met Phil and Tiphaine once,
at the Kinfolk gathering; and for some reason they were kind enough to invite me to join in their
Thanksgivukkah! Last Saturday, Sandra and I adventured south of Paris for a most unforgettable Franco-American feast:
Upon arrival, they served home-barrel-aged cocktails: a warm autumn punch made with bourbon and cider (my pick), and a seasonally spiced Negroni. Guests trickled in from near and far as the buffet table crowded with their generous contributions. To nibble during meets and greets, we helped ourselves to endive with blue cheese and local walnuts and wild rabbit
rillette on toast.
Eventually, the Thanksgiving-Hannukah meal was served: green salads, latkes with apple sauce, deep fried/smoked turkey,
stuffing (southernly referred to as "
dressing" because it was prepared outside the bird), green bean casserole, lobster macaroni and cheese.
We digested with re-pours of wine until we were ready for dessert. My
Belgian chocolate was nothing compared to the homemade pecan pie,
chou au chantilly et potiron (pumpkin cream puffs), and an unexpected berry cake. Coffee, champagne, and a local porter aged on Fernet Branca barrel chips were served alongside. Phil and Tiphaine are obviously the best hosts in the whole wide world.
Eight hours later, I headed back to Paris with plenty of gratitude and leftovers. And I'm already excited for tomorrow's "Anksgeeving" dinner with grad school friends. Although I'm most definitely sad to miss
my family's annual fête, I'm thankful for
this new tradition, too. Oh! By the way,
obrigado is Portuguese for "thank you." I'm especially fond of it because it's so similar to the Spanish
abrigo (coat) and
abrazo (hug).
Happy Thanksgiving, friends! Let's embrace all that significance and share our gratitude generously: