Chocolate Mousse


Once upon a time I lived in Paris.

First in a rented room in a grand apartment on Avenue George V,  just off the Champs-Élysées. I rented it from a skint Duke and Duchess (explaining why they would rent a room to a student).  The duchess was a tough humorless woman, who didn’t allow me to use the lavatory after 10pm (the noise of the flush disturbed her sleep) and kept a tight rein on her husband and son.  The Duke on the other hand was wonderful and mischievous.  Whenever he would hear the telltale rustling of a plastic bag, heralding the arrival of my Lebanese takeaway from Al Diwan, he would make up an excuse to talk to me and linger so long that I would invite him to share my food.  He would sit cross-legged on the floor in his suit, knees jutting ridiculously high.  Afterwards, we would both light a cigarette until the Duchess smelled smoke and stormed into the room, whereby I would cover for him and apologise for my disgusting smoking habit.

Then, when I turned 18, I shared a flat with a tall, beautiful Russian / American girl at La Motte-Picquet Grenelle, (making me by default, the short, funny one, a comparison I did not enjoy).  We lived over a cheese shop, which I would visit every morning, asking, “Which of these cheeses, besides the brie, would also be good for breakfast? “None!” The horrified  shop assistant would say,  as if I had said something unspeakable. I guess by their standards I had.

Then I found Giulia, or she found me.  I never used to do my French homework (well, I never used to do any of my homework).  Teachers would smell my indolence and swiftly pick me to answer a question.  I squirmed around in my chair just long enough for Giulia to offer hers, neatly written out, with the right bits highlighted in helpful colours.

We moved into, a gorgeous and tiny one bedroom in Montparnasse.  In this flat, the two of us became known as the feeders of our University, holding frequent dinner parties.  When I was in charge, I would make things like tacos with the seasoning that comes in the box and the salsa that comes in the jar.

Sophisticated, I was not.

Giulia on the other hand,  could roast a turkey, make stuffing and chocolate mousse.  She may as well have pulled a rabbit out of her nostril, I was exceedingly impressed. Read more of this post

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It was just a matter of time before the Universe gave me a good back hand across the face.  You think the Universe doesn’t have time for you?  You’re wrong!  How do I know? Read more of this post

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