Maurice Chevalier’s French Onion Soup

maurice
“If you wait for the perfect moment when all is safe and assured, it may never arrive.
Mountains will not be climbed, races won, or lasting happiness achieved.”

Shirley (who is 9 years old) was very excited to be at her first hen night on Friday – mine. Well, a hen night of sorts. I’m taking Maurice’s advice and not waiting for the perfect moment to arrive, taking the plunge and giving it a go with Sidney.

Paulette made Maurice’s soup, her hubby rustled up some spicy grilled mackerel and Shirley prepared her speciality cous cous to go with the fish. A delightful evening was had by all and Shirley observed that it was “love at first bite” when she bit into Maurice’s parmesan bedecked french bread croutons. There were no “L plates”, no strippers and no discracefully drunk women shouting like fishwives across crowded discotheques. But Shirley DID stay up until 11pm.

Now I am in the lock-down that is writing week at the seaside. Sidney has been here for two days, assisting me in spending two pounds in two ps on the coin pushers in order to win a gherkin shaped keyring and other such delights. He left today so I am in the Herne Bay B&B that goes by the name of “The Priory”. Perfect spot for a de-tox head-down recipe-wrangling 4 days. I admit it was partially chosen so that if anyone asks where I went for my week off I can say “The Priory”- which for our American readers is a bit like saying, “The Betty Ford Clinic”.
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