Just as I'm taking a break from writing Toute Allure to answer my fan mail (god, I love typing the phrase 'fan mail' so much, I might just have to type it again) my friend Travis calls. He's on the TGV with - oh joy - six bags of watercress for me. 'It's puffed up my luggage so much that there's no room in my bag for my laptop,' he complains.
Travis is coming out especially for a party on Saturday night - the infamous Disco D'Hiver - that Mitch, a mutual friend is organising in the local salle des fetes. We have all organised ourselves into tables, and each table is responsible for its own decoration, food and wine. I'm doing my signature - some might say predictable - goats cheese and onion tart (thank you Nigel Slater!) with a green salad, while Travis is making beef bourgignon and Anita is rustling up a a dessert. Martine has promised to make - and I'm so looking forward to this - an aperitif that translates as 'champagne soup.'
Most of all however, I'm looking forward to that watercress or cresson, a 'wonder food' that's impossible to find in my region (I'm so hoping some one will contradict me on this). I'll be driving over to Travis's first thing tomorrow morning to pick it up and spending the afternoon rustling up several batches of Liz Hurley's delicious watercress soup. I never ever imagined that the thought of six bags of watercress could make me so happy.