Besides the fact that I was 3,000 miles away from the country whose independence is celebrated on the 4th of July, the evening was spent like nearly every other American spent it - hot dogs, chips, beer, potato salad, poker and whiskey. With the exception of a crowded fireworks display, it was just like being home. We invited some friends over to enjoy the traditional fare and man, was it a hit! First, let me just say that it was my first time ever making potato salad - how could I have gone so long in my adult life without making this southern staple? Well, at every event that commands potato salad, my mom or Aunt Mary are in attendance to make their specialty, and I'm usually just fine with that. I made mine with what I had on hand - potatoes, shallots, boiled eggs, dill, yellow mustard, mayonnaise and relish. I was a little worried about how our purely French guests would like it, but I was content to eat the leftovers should there be any. There weren't, and I ended up sharing my recipe with everyone. I also served up for dessert an apple coffee cake, which was raved about. But, the biggest hit of the night was not the French's mustard or relish that we smuggled back from Texas (although I will be needing replenishments soon), but it was the ranch dip that I served with cucumber that everyone was hootin' and hollerin' over. I even gave one of them a packet to take home because he couldn't stop talking about how good it was. In the end, I was happy that I was able to share a little of my culture and even happier that they enjoyed it.

Last Thursday was a real treat. We met up with some friends of ours who we met back in Austin where they were living for a year until this summer. Just last month, they came back to France and we've been waiting for a chance to catch up with them. Luckily, their favorite band was making a stop in Paris, so they took a train from their neck of the woods and we had the pleasure of spending an evening catching up with old friends and listening to really great music.

I was surprised at how good the band actually was. We'd listened to bits and pieces of their music from YouTube clips and such, but hearing them live was totally different. Besides the giant, man-like biatch that elbowed her way in front of me and Pascal, the concert was blast! Afterwards, we ate like Americans at Indiana Cafe, praised the show, and reminisced about our time together in Texas. We're hoping to make a trip to visit our friends for Bastille Day - a day I'm looking forward to celebrating here.

I had forgotten what it feels like to wake up with a hangover until this morning. We had too much fun playing poker, eating hot-dogs (with French's mustard), potato salad and ranch dip that I lost count of the number of whiskey & cokes I poured myself after those couple of glasses of wine. Gui was a trooper and had to be up early (as in before noon) to prepare for another night of debauchery for his friend's bachelor party tonight. I got up with him, but never made it past the couch and I've been stalking blogs and randomly interneting all day. My plans to see Sex in the City were easily forgotten after it became physically impossible to change positions on the couch. Thankfully, I had enough strength to get up a few hours later and grab some pho and nems (soup and eggrolls) from the delightful restaurant down the street. It's 9pm, and I'm going to eat, finish my blog stalking, and end the evening curled up in bed with my new favorite book. I expect to be in a much better state of mind tomorrow to recall details of our Independence Day fête.

I don't know what's gotten into me, but I've been a little obsessed with baking these days. I think maybe I inhaled too much flour from my fairly successful first attempt at banana bread, or something. Last week when we were at [where else but] Ikea, I finally scooped up a loaf pan and Gui suggested I make a cake in it. For me, cakes aren't made in loaf pans - they're made in round, flat cake pans, perhaps layered and generously frosted with icing. But when Gui says cake or gateau he's pretty much referring to anything that's cake-y or cake-like, but not necessarily round nor iced. So, I thought, why not give it a try? Luckily I stalk one of the greatest recipe websites that always has the answers to my what-should-I-make dilemmas and found an easily adaptable recipe for apple coffee cake. It sounded heavenly and was exactly the kind of cake I was hoping to test out my new loaf pan with. I added some freshly ground nutmeg, used half cassonade (free-flowing brown sugar) and half regular white sugar, upped the cinnamon by a teaspoon, and did everything by hand (I have a hand mixer, but wanted to see if I could do it the old-school way). The hardest part was converting all of the amounts to liters and grams, which took nearly an hour to figure out. It turned out pretty well, and thought that the apple made it appropriate to serve at the 4th of July party we hosted. It was finished off, and the day after the party, one of our guests commented that she dreamt about my cake. I think I'll convert the recipe to metric units and make it again soon...maybe for Bastille Day.

Wine is sacred in France. When I first ordered a kir, I was astounded (and a little delighted) to learn that it was actually common in France to mix wine with something other than air. Don't get me wrong, I love wine on its own, too - I'm not a connoisseur or anything, but I'm happy to drink a glass daily. Now that summer's here, rosé is the wine of choice around these parts, and this afternoon I discovered a completely neglected and forgotten bottle of rosé at the very bottom of our fridge. I'm not sure how it came to be so discarded, but I decided it needed to be finished off. While pouring the last few drops into my glass, it became evident that it wasn't going to be easy to drink. So, with a dash of soda, my old rosé turned into a sweet wine spritzer. Yes, I said it. I drank a wine spritzer in Paris. I know it's not the classiest drink, but it was good and it made me happy after just running from the metro in the rain.

Another thing that made me happy after my sprint through the rain was the package I found in my mailbox. Jen has the most perfect timing of anyone I know - I swear she can read my mind. The lovely books she sent came just as I finished my back-up book today (one that I've read at least four times). I was scared I'd have to start reading the ads in the metro on the way to school everyday! I think I'll still need to take a trip to an anglophone bookstore in the near future because I have a feeling these books are going to be hard to put down. Thanks again, Jen!!

...but glad I have two months to catch it. I need to pay more attention to the news these days. I found out this morning that I missed this in honor of the EU presidency being turned over to France for the next six months. Glad that "y.caradec" took photos for all to share in its magnificent blue glory. I'll try to get some pictures of my own, but I'm not promising anything.