Life is good

So I’m sitting in a white plastic lawn chair in a leafy back yard on a warm August evening, with a plate of foie gras poutine in one hand, and a glass of some delicious French grape juice in the other. I’m a little past half-way through the Foie Gras Death Match, a night of extravagance seldom paralleled in these parts. The list of indulgences is too long to recount here (but it must be said that Eric D.’s French Toast – coca butter brioche, seared foie gras, Maine blueberry jam, and bacon ice cream – was fan-effin-tastic). Many kudos to all the chefs and especially to Joe R. and John D. for hosting. I’ll be recovered by next year and ready to try again.

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