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Postcards from France: Hedonism Redux
A Farmhouse Chicken Stuffed with Foie Gras and Truffles
I fear that I may lose a few of you when I recount this next story. My more sympathetic friends might even start a GoFundMe page to help raise money for my orphaned son. The hedonism did not end after the bouillabaisse. Non, that would have been far too prudent.
(read the story of Bouillabaisse the morning of this story)
Après Bouillabaisse
We waddled out of L’Esplaï du Grand Bar des Goudes, our stomachs stretched to the point of bursting. Even our car groaned as we got in. I vowed never to eat again, at least not for that day.
We arrived back at our house in Maussane after a long day of driving and eating bouillabaisse. I was looking forward to nothing more than a long nap so I unbuckled my pants and collapsed onto the bed. As I drifted off to sleep, I remembered the delicious chicken I had prepped the night before.
If you’re as gluttonous as I am, you’ll know the feeling of eating a huge Thanksgiving meal only to start craving that first turkey sandwich shortly after. It usually starts when I’ve digested just enough of the feast to clear a little space in my stomach. Tonight was no different.
