Il Vino – Paris
I can safely say that my fondness for wine and cheese was inherited from my papa Bruce String-bean. Growing up, every Thursday night dad and his three besties would gather at our house...
Read More →I can safely say that my fondness for wine and cheese was inherited from my papa Bruce String-bean. Growing up, every Thursday night dad and his three besties would gather at our house...
Read More →I’ve made my fair share of embarrassing linguistic aberrations over the last two and a half years in Paris – I certainly learned the hard way that péter does not mean ‘to pat’, nor does...
Read More →Scandal has hit France, and no it is not the President’s wandering parliamentary member, but something much more cataclysmic. In an ongoing attempt to preserve the purity of the French language, the word...
Read More →If my life in France were a movie it would probably be called ‘Gone with the Wine’. My sister’s life in London is more like ‘Citizen Kale’. My theme song would be ‘Rolling...
Read More →Before I arrived in Paris I had an image of how I would look as I strutted around the City of Love; legs as long as those on a glass of vintage rouge,...
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