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Wednesday, April 6, 2016

Fromage to all of You!



F is for Fromage

The only word Scotto knows how to say in French is, “Fromage”, which means cheese.

I can just imagine him if we ever go to France.

Concierge: Bonjour, Monsieur.

Scotto: Fromage!

Or

Stranger in the street: Quelle heure est-il ? (What time is it?)

Scotto: Er, Fromage.

I, on the other hand, can speak quite effluent French having studied it until Year Ten. (Polishes cheese-encrusted fingernails on lapels.)

I can count from one to ten, I can say thank you, hello, please and goodbye. I can say goodbye forever (adieu) if someone is about to die or if they’re going to war or on a journey to Mars or something, and goodbye (au revoir), if I’ll be seeing them again five seconds later in the pate aisle.

The reason I’m talking about cheese is that exactly one month ago, we went to lunch at my mother’s house with a couple of their lovely friends and in a drunken, magnanimous moment, I offered to have everyone to lunch at my place the following month. (I took a cheese platter to Mum’s hence the cheese connection. Cheese platters are my specialty since nobody actually expects you to make home-made cheese as that would be an excessive waste of time and I therefore avoid having to do any homestyle cooking of any variety.)

Somehow the month has crept up like a monk on a nun in a cheese making monastery and here I am suddenly having to make lunch for tasteful, discerning people as opposed to making lunch for Scotto. Gah!

When I promised to host the lunch a month ago, it seemed so long away I assumed I’d be dead by then but apparently that hasn’t happened.

Can anyone suggest anything tasty for an autumnal feast?

Please cut and paste recipes into the comments.

I’ll let you know which one I try and post the after photos.



Fromage xxx