Happy Thanksgiving

It doesn't seem these French care about Thanksgiving. I made Nicole go to lunch at a closeby restaurant. It was ok; not great. We started with oysters:

No, we are not with those people who ordered what you should order at an Alsatian restaurant--sauerkraut and sausages.

I found out that just a block from this apartment is a famous French restaurant. The Clintons ate here; Brad and Angelina, and other assorted Hollywood celebs.

It might not look fancy from the outside but looking in the window, you can see how ritzy it is. There is nothing on the menu under 60 euros; even the appetizer foie gras is 60 euro. If you look it up, you will see that Americans love to go there and have the 100 euro chicken, the specialty of the house, and then say either it's terrific or that they could make better chicken themselves. They also say you might see a famous American there because Americans are the only people who eat there. I am not planning to go.

I just went to the boulangerie to get a sandwich. I got one and some macarons, agreed with whatever the woman was saying to me and left. Walking down the street, I looked in the bag. No sandwich. I guess she had asked me whether I wanted it hot and it still wasn't ready when I went back in. But now I have it--it's just like leftover turkey except, of course, this is ham and cheese.