Sunday afternoon tea

A little bit of sweetness in my world of Chicken and wine.
It can't hurt, and with the dreadful weather we've been having in Paris today, I just felt like hanging around home with a couple of friends.
Hanging around with food of course.

So here's a little improvisation that comes from the Kumquats I found at my local market this morning. I don't usually cook them, there are lovely just like that.

Chinese Sushi

I’m a big fan of sushis.

I love their scrumptious texture, the oily sensation they distil on your tongue, their melt-in-the mouth quality.

That’s when they are good of course. And fresh. Which is scarcely the case.

I don’t know if this is so in the US or England – I’m sure it’s not in Japan – but in France, or in Paris at least, Sushi restaurant are more often than not managed by Chinese people.

I discovered this a few years ago, when I was having lunch at a little sushi place and I heard the sushichef speaking Cantonese to one of his waiters.

Oh, and they had ha-kao on the menu. And spring rolls.

I know. I’m quite sagacious aren’t I ?

Armenia's finest

Dear Readers, I have a confession to make.

Half of my crazy family is Armenian.

We are all spread out around the world and almost none of us speak Armenian any more.

As for me, I haven't even been to Armenia.

Yet there is something that keeps us together. Something that seems to be intrinsicly linked to Armenian people and makes them stand out in a crowd.

I'm not talking about Armenian's way of wearing leopard print all the time. I'm not even referring to their overwhelming Christian faith. Or their so-called hatred of the Turks.

No, my friends, there is something much greater, that every Armenian will relate to and shares.

Love for food.