Can't remember when I have bought this, but by the look of the price it was from one of my numerous trips to Britain.
I have to start to comment already from the first page. The French aren't the only ones with dozens of varietys of bottled water. I thought I have seen everything when I came across Oscar Wilde water in Northern Island last year (see pic).

It is still early days, but I love this book. Susan is so positive and enthusiastic about her passion - cooking. I hate cooking, but her attitude is catching. And she doesn't try to teach me to cook. And unlike Brits who write about their year or what not in France, she doesn't expect the reader to know French, she kindly translates the frases she uses.
I know just as she felt when she could not speak French. I spent ten months in Åland and I guess it was after three-four months when suddenly the words came out of my mouth without much effort.
I have always wondered how French with bad feet (elderly, disabled) survive in Paris as most Metro stations still only have steps and most of the old houses still have no lifts. They probably move elsewhere, as that is not a city for the unfit. My feet will always bare the marks of my week in Paris with ill-fitting Birkenstocks as my sole footware. Autch!

There has been a break in reading this as I was travelling and now that they are settling into France, renovating their new house, life does not seem to be full of roses anymore. Reality creeps in. And recipes!

Since they began renovating their house the book somehow changed into mode most foreigners use when writing - these and those complications with this and that very French fenomenon. I enjoyed the first part more. Before I was very reluctant to put the book away, now it takes a bit of an effort to start reading again. Not that I would not want to read this to the end, but more interesting things seem to keep me occupied.

I might walk on the wild side one day and try Apples stuffed with goat cheese and leeks or Apple, Roquefort and walnut salad.

Good for you, Joe, not liking modern art, but Monet instead. I also fell in love with his garden and his colourful house, yellow dining-room and blue&white tiled kitchen.
Apart from Giverny, our paths could have crossed in Rouen and Honfleur.

Paris. My brother and his family lived on the outskirts of Paris for a few years back in 1980'ies. I went to visit them on an Interrail trip in 1986. Nobody, literally nobody spoke English in the tourist info at Gare de Nord, their central railway station. Metros were on strike. They had a heatwave. I hated Paris from day one, left on day three. Vowed never to come back.
In 2002 a client of ours won a trip of a long weekend in any European capital for two. Her then partner had just left (good riddance we all thought) and she asked me to accompany her in Paris at the time of the European Winner Dog Show. This was too good to say no to. We had a very nice time, we walked from dawn 'till dusk and had a full day at the show as well. I even ended up in the show ring when spotted by somebody who had been on some foreign show bus tour with me earlier. She had the best male and the best female of Väst-Göta spitz and could not go to the ring with both of them. She gave the bitch to me and said it would show itself, I would just have to be at the other end of the leash. The dog was just wonderful as she knew what she was there in the ring for and all I had to do was keep up with her. She was Best of Breed and I had my half a minute of fame - wow!
I returned a few years later on my own and stayed for a week in the Quartier Latin. Unlike Mrs Loomis, I did not enjoy the smell of Paris. It was early June and rather hot - and the center of the city smelled of pee - homeless people stayed in tents in the middle of the city and you smelled them before you saw them.
Can't remember exactly what year it was when another client of ours invited us to attend his 50th birthday in Moulin Rouge, he would treat us the evening if we paid for our trip and stay there. We must have done something right in our customer service. My workmate's brother had just got office at the Finnish Embassy in Paris a few weeks earlier, so we had free boarding as well. The birthday boy also treated us a sight-seeing tour in a 40-year-old Renault and I now know how Lady Diana must have felt although I did realize that all those people on the street were taking photos of our vehicle, not us. I liked the tour better than the night at Moulin Rouge where my eyes seemed soooooo heavy all of a sudden. My godmother had fallen asleep at their show some 40 years earlier, so this trait must run in the family.
My workmate's brother asked us over for a week the next summer, when he was in Finland. Then he could say no to somebody from Finland whose brother he had known at school and who wanted to visit (= use his flat) when he was not there. We gladly accepted and had a lovely week living on Rue Lauriston, near Trocadero. My feet will never be the same as I only had a pair of ill-fitting Birkenstocks and we walked miles and miles. They literally re-shaped my feet in a most painful way.
Kristina Cruises have also taken us to Paris on a couple of occasions, a river cruise from Paris to Honfleur once and from Champagne to Paris another time. That was fabulous as we arrived there on 14th of July and could watch the magnificent fireworks from our riverboat parked under the Eiffel Tower, sippin bubbly, when all Parisians were gathered on the banks of the river, tight as sardines in a tin.
I loved Shakespeare & Co Bookstore, having afternoon tea at the Crillion (recommended by Helena Petäistö in her Tee teematka -book), walking around Courtier Latin with a Paris greeter, visiting the food department of La Fayette and the Tea shop of Mariage Frerese, having crepes and strong French cider... Wow, said Tanhupallo.

Finally finished! The last chapter was more lively than many before, because Susan became pregnant at 43 yrs old. I have a friend who also had their youngest at the same age and all went well. And, I, too was thankful it was not me...

Off to Chania, who likes to read about cooking with passion.

Pic: The kitchen of the oldest house in Helsinki, Ruiskumestarin talo (200 yrs).

Thank you, looks like a book I probably enjoy! Maybe save it for my holidays in July..

Thank you, delightful book, nice and very suitable for my summer holidays :) And Kirjakko's journal entries were as entertaining as the book itself, or maybe even more!

Enjoy!