Happy Bastille Day, y'all.

I can't say as I have any really good reason to celebrate the day, other than the fact that one of the most profound moments of my life happened in the middle of a Bastille day celebration in Vendome, France. Hell - I've probably written about it here somewhere, but can't be bothered to look for the entry just now.

I was running through the streets arm in arm with two intense French women who insisted on speaking only French to me and fully expecting me to answer in French even though they knew that the most foreign my language got was Latin - and we know how far that will get you (granted, you could assist a stranded ancient Roman family in the airport, but that's about it).

What I learned that night is that I could be happy in and of myself - and needed to rely on no one for my bliss. I learned that there was a part of me that wanted to always run through that darkened street singing in a foreign language and laughing as though for the very first time.

So each year I observe Bastille Day - almost as my very own independence day.

And I cook some wicked good food.

Tonight we observed the day with goat cheese, crackers and grapes for starters (I know, I know - that should have been the dessert course, but we were hungry and it just made sense...). The main course was Coq a la Biere with onions, bacon and mushrooms added to the sauce at the end. We also fixed Confit de Tomates and Pommes de Terre au Romarin Cuites au Four. We had a French Syrah as well - which I have just now managed to spill on the floor.

And no - I haven't had to much of it to drink - but my floor now has.

I blame it on the constant F-15s overhead.

Anyway - that's the news for today. I have to relieve the floor of its grapeiness....