Memories and Toulouse....

Before my gastro New Year's attack, I was enjoying my French hometown - Toulouse. That's where I first studied abroad, where Copain and I first met and where I lived for a full three years before moving to Cannes. I love Toulouse.

Since I would be spending the holidays with Copain's family and since everyone on my side of the family is going through big life changes (grad school! babies! first houses!), I suggested that instead of gifts, we give each other memories. Most of the women in the family responded to my suggestion in agreement - the men on the other hand, thought I was a total nut ball and cursed me for even bringing up such a ridiculous idea (Copain included). A memory? One for each person? Hey FCC - remember when you had that horrible idea to give each other memories for Christmas? Yeah, it went kinda like that.

Nevertheless, everyone played along and I got some hilarious and touching memories from my family for the holidays - they were smart and sent them by email. I, on the other hand, couldn't help but want to wrap something so that they could open it like a present. So guess whose memories didn't make it on time? I know, I know...

In any case, here are a few pics of my 6 days in the sud-ouest (southwest) of France...a place that is filled with memories for me...

Place du Capitole

La Garonne

The Marché de Noël at Place du Capitole

La buche de Noël...the Yule log (cake!)

Saint Sernin on Christmas Eve

Presents, presents, presents

How can you not love this guy?

At Alby Foie Gras in Albi - we stocked up on magret de canard 

Fromaaaaage

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In the streets of Rodez in Aveyron

Turning 30 Isn't So Bad...

Copain's birthday month continues.  We just about froze our derrières off in Toulouse last weekend with the grand froid that had taken over everything. But it felt good to be in la ville rose, walking around my old streets and re-visiting my favorite places.  We were spoiled rotten with foie gras (I think we ate it four times!), and Copain was celebrated by his maman and papa. 

I also revealed our surprise birthday destination with a little game that Copain's maman helped me create.  I asked her questions about his childhood ahead of time to prepare game cards, and then he had to get the correct answer to take off each layer of wrapping paper (there were 6 layers!).  Questions included the name and arrondissement of the hospital where he was born, his first word, what he wanted to be when he grew up, and his favorite gouter (snack) when he was a little boy.  We played it Who Wants to Be a Millionaire style and he was able to "call a friend" - AKA mom or dad, in case he needed help.  I learned a thing or two about Copain that day - he likes yogurt cake, wanted to be a video game tester and was born in the 8th arrondissement.  First words: pa pa pa pa.  (Which did not please ma ma ma ma).

So where are we going next weekend, you may ask...Amsterdam! Where we will freeze our derrières off once again!  I just read this article from Cup of Jo which makes me A. shiver and B. hope that we get to ice skate on the canals too! (I'm bringing my snow shoes just in case I can't hang - think it's too much?)

This weekend was all about the party that Copain's friends convinced him he should organize.  Where I was very honest with myself about my distain for party organizing , Copain got sucked in and made a facebook event for a night out in Paris.  He stressed about it ALL week and totally sucked me in too.  I had to play the "don't worry! It's going to be fun!" card, until his best friend from London surprised him on Friday night, and he realized that yes, this would be an enjoyable weekend.  Quelle stresse!

As Claude Nougaro would say, Oh Toulouse, Oh Toulouuuuuuuse...

Copain and I met just to the right of the pink awning in 2004.

As I walked to meet a friend for coffee, I happened upon the sign for the Cité Administrative. Oh the horror! It brought back all of the pep talks I had to give myself before applying for working papers with grumpy fonctionnaires (city workers). Ce n'est pas possible mademoiselle!

Copain, Belle Mère and I took a tour at the marché Victor Hugo...

Florists closed because of the grand froid! Yes, it was that cold.

Our aperitif before our diner gastronomique. Très fancy.

Saint Sernin. Copain's favorite spot in Toulouse that I have also come to love.

I wanted to velo!

Mise en bouche at O'Saveurs.

Copain's entrée 

My entrée (foie gras - again!) I can't help myself.

Plat - quasi de veau avec legumes d'hiver...so tasty!

Birthday cake!

Mignardises - guimauve, mini financier, pâte de fruit...

The big surprise on Friday night...happy Copain.

7 Years of Beaujolais and Chocolate Cake

Even though I have a pretty good memory for birthday and anniversaries, France throws me a bone every year.  When I start to see this around town, I know that it's time to celebrate:

Classy people that we are, Copain and I met at the Beaujolais wine festival at the Place Saint Pierre in Toulouse when we were étudiants à la fac - so young we were!  I'm happy to say that at the moment of meeting, I'd only had one glass - see, bringin' the classy back! Someone from his group of friends knew someone, who knew someone from my group of friends - got that? The most talkative (and enterprising!) member of the group, and Copain's all-time best friend in the whole wide world, made a comment about how we "should all hang out together". Group of French guys + group of American girls? um, okay!  I think this is when Copain got the hint that his BFF was working his magic as the ultimate wingman, and since at least one person from each group needed to provide a phone number for our future get togethers, Copain asked me for mine.  

Then his BFF tested it to make sure I wasn't lying. 

When Copain called me to arrange for the groups to meet - after trying to understand what the heck he was saying to me in French- I rallied my girlfriends and we went to meet les français for sangria at Le Cube (a bar that has now been shut down in Toulouse (sad face).  Only, much to our surprise, who awaited us at the table on the terrace? Copain and Wingman - and that's all.  We (thankfully) made a perfect little group of five - Copain and his Wingman and me and my girls - and everyone made their best "secretive" efforts for me to sit next to Copain (like going to the bathroom and then choosing a new place to sit upon their return to the table - our friends are smart people, what can I say).   

I guess Copain knew me well right from the beginning, because sooner rather than later, he invited me to his house for un gateau au chocolat (totally made by Belle Mère - merci!). Then I invited him to celebrate Thanksgiving at the American apartment in Toulouse. An American classmate offered him a peanut butter cookie (which he ate!) and I quickly learned about his peanut allergy. As he walked me home, wheezing the whole way, I slipped my arm through his, and the rest is history.

This year, we celebrated with two gateaux au chocolat, from Huré bakery.

I've finally accepted, after 7 years, that Copain hates red wine - especially the Beaujolais (I know, I know, I promise you he IS French). So this year, I got us a demi-bouteille de champagne instead.  

We kept the classy that we are so famous for by drinking it out of whiskey glasses.  

(Truth: we were too lazy to get the champagne glasses out of the boxes we keep them in!).

Happy septième anniversaire.

En Fin! Un Bel Appartement à Paris!

I'm alive! I promise! I can explain**...

Remember this problem from when we first moved into our Paris apartment?  The nice dégat des eaux that the agency just forgot to tell us about before we moved in? Well, turns out that little dégat des eaux took an entire YEAR to completely dry - I lived through a very moldy, very cold Parisian winter because no one thought it was important to repair our upstairs neighbor's shower.  To make matters worse, the painters spent a week re-papering and re-painting the entire apartment only to realize that the neighb's shower was still leaking...because no one had fixed it!!!! (Parisian Agencies are brilliant - real geniuses the are). They then took all of their hard work down (to let the dry wall....dry)  and we lived with exposed, nasty, water-logged walls from May 2010 until just two weeks ago.

Copain got a call from the painters asking if they could come back and check the walls for the billionth time this year.  They did and since the walls were at only 40 percent humidity levels, they decided that they could try again.  Copain and I mentally prepared ourselves for a week of hell and put all of our belongings into our tiny bedroom, leaving the living room with only the couch and the TV stand.  We left a tiny walkway around our bed so that we could at least function for the week and covered all surfaces with old sheets that we had saved for this very occasion.  Urban camping, I tell you.

Carlos the painter came on a Thursday and began prepping the walls - dust EVERYWHERE.  The walls needed the weekend to dry so Copain and I high-tailed it to the southwest, our old stomping grounds, to celebrate Papi's 90th birthday with the French famille. 


Here are some highlights from our weekend en province....

Scary what they take from people at Charles de Gaulle airport non?

Free newspapers? The Frenchies were in heaven - including Copain, bien sur

Lunch at Place du Capitole in Toulouse

A summer lunch in the south is not complete without some rosé

You know Top Chef?? Well one of the big chefs opened a restaurant...Le Bibent

We had the burger with foie gras and....

The millefeuille for dessert!! - to die for

Then a little walk around Toulouse to digerer...

It got too hot, so we left early for Albi for la piscine!!

I got to wake up to this lovely, relaxing scene...

Then we were off to l'Aveyron, the beau-parents' pays for Papi's anniversaire

The celebration was held in Belcastel, one of the most beautiful villages in France

The chateau that has now been restored

The crickety old bridge we drove over to get to the village

The mysterious birthday lunch starter...what do you think we ate???

We returned to Paris with a cooler full of magret de canard and boudin noir from Belle Mère's favorite butcher in Rodez (you never know about Parisian butchers she says). Unfortunately, our house was still in shambles and when Carlos the painter came the next day, he said that he probably wouldn't be finished until the end of the week! Copain and I gritted our teeth - everyday we were out of the house at 8.30 am for the painter (I had to drink instant coffee because the stove was covered in sheets! bah!) and at night we did our best to have something to do so that we didn't have to sit in white dust. 

Finally, Friday arrived and Carlos told us that he would be done at 3pm! But- he didn't know when his boss was going to come by to pick up all of the paint and tools. This is when FrenchCannesCannes went over the edge - elle a pété un plomb, as the Frenchies say.  After leaving a message with the un-reachable boss, I called Copain who knew what he had to do if he didn't want to live with a psycho Copine all weekend.  He told the boss that if someone didn't come and pick up the materials, his copine was going to put everything out on the street.  We found great pleasure in finding all of the painting supplies in the building's courtyard when we came home from work that day.

Friday night was spent cleaning our house from top to bottom, transferring our stuff from the bedroom back into the living room and kitchen, separating the olive oil from the dirty socks. Now, finally, after one year of crap Parisian living, we have a nice, white, clean, (small) apartment - with dry walls.  Oh, and to congratulate ourselves after two weeks of hell, we got a new flat screen TV to replace that clunker you see in the third photo down. 

En fin! (and I also had real coffee on Saturday morning!!!!!)

**As I'm sure you understand, I couldn't really bring myself to blog in 8 inches of dry-wall dust.