One of the things I adore about the language of Alain Ducasse is that to pronounce words properly, one must almost always smile or pucker. It’s so much fun for your face to speak French! Turns out though- there isn’t a direct translation for the word pucker. Expressions galore, bien sûr! But no direct word. Strange, eh-
for a culture known for its love of the kiss?
That’s the one English word I’ve found to trump the French. All other subtleties of sense the French win hands down. So it’s the word I leave the US on.
The photo is my planning map of breweries to visit. The gift-beer is packed, the CBC White Widow sipped, cat team assembled, new laces in Fleuvogs, Ratebeer Strasbourg consulted. Ready! Oh- but the brewery-on-a-sheep farm guy in Brittany just moved the date. Yikes. Well, that’s beer travel. Salut!