The Baby Who Loved to Eat Crepes

I made a bunch tonight, so he will have more tomorrow. Today, though, he filled up on Viennoise and didn't want to eat his own food. I'm a little concerned about the pastry-heavy diet. But he was fussy today, since his nose was runny, and he is getting harder and harder to feed on the best of days. He won't sit in his high chair, he increasingly won't eat off a spoon, and now only wants to eat off our plates while we are eating. Tomorrow we're going to try putting his food on our plates and feeding him every other bite while we eat. He's not quite old enough to share our meals yet. You can see here what happens when we let him feed himself mush.

I am thinking, since my successful crepe-making venture this week, of starting a side blog to keep track of recipes I like. I suppose it depends how much free time I find on my hands. I recommend, for learning to cook on a different measuring system in a different language, getting kids' cookbooks from the library. The recipes are relatively simple, the instructions are clear, and there are pictures. Now that I've got a fairly good handle on how to read lists of ingredients and basic cooking techniques in French, I might try some grown-up recipes. Or not. In the US, kids' cookbooks would have you making ants-on-a-log, but here they have me making crepes and mousses and meringues and quiches and things like that.

Anyway, we got him a Viennoise because we were going for a hike in the Foret (yes, there's supposed to be a hat accent on that, and on crepe) de la Malmaison and wanted something we could feed him while we walked. It's quite a nice forest, with clearings and a lake and everything. It's apparently where the actual runners go to run around here. We saw one woman jogging with her dog in tight jeans and low pumps.

I want to stay because the forest is so lovely and I've never lived around trees that change color before. I want to leave because really, nothing compares to a redwood forest. When a map is labeled with "arbres remarquables" and I get to that spot and have no idea which tree is supposed to be remarkable or why, I get homesick. Those who went to my wedding will understand why I have difficulty telling why an attractive but altogether ordinary tree, of which I can clearly see the top, is not remarkable.