After a week of intense discussion on the subject in my French conversation class last year, I can now (somewhat) understand Canadian French and (fully) understand why the French make fun of it. They sound like snotty Chihuahuas trying to speak in Great Dane. So I’m pretty sure that I would have known if my Air Canada flight made an announcement wishing us a “bonne nouvelle annee” somewhere over the Atlantic, but – nada. I either spent midnight watching “In the Loop” or asleep, with the head of the little kid next to me resting on my shoulder. There were two unaccompanied boys in my row, who were miraculously well-behaved. Or sadly well-behaved – if they were annoying I would have felt no regrets about stealing their special halal meals while they slept, since my vegetarian meal order got lost in the internet ether. As it was, I buttered the bejeezus out of my roll and dreamed about croissants.
Bourbon-Ginger Pecan Pie
6 months ago
