Back to life. Back to Reality.

We are back. Back to reality.

We were here.

And here.

And here.

Oh, and here.

That little woman in the background sent us this Tattinger champagne. She and her husband have been married for 48 years.

And now we are back here - our humble abode with red pots and copper pans calling out to be used again.

After just about 20 hours of travel, four movies, many plane snacks, a bad headache from the piercing noise coming from some malfunctioning part of the plane, and what I anticipate to be a couple of very charming, bad hair photos of us descending an escalator at O'Hare by SGS and Peggy O, we arrived back home, in Naperville. And shortly after we both crashed (hard). A bedtime of 7 PM was totally acceptable.

I've got to admit, it's a little hard to be back. To think that the two weeks that I had been so looking forward to for so long, are over. And that they nearly went by in the blink of an eye. I almost need Purvis' picture proof to know that what happened on September 3 was a reality. (Hint, hint, Purve...)

It's hard to be back in my little cube. It's hard to run around Naperville when I can think that just two days ago I was running from our beautiful hotel to the Eiffel Tower and back. And it's hard to go back to more normal food and wine and consumption.

No I can't have a glass of wine with lunch anymore. No, someone will not knock on my door this evening with a bottle of Deutz on ice and two champagne flutes.

And no, with the Marathon to run in less than a month, I should not continue to coat my arteries in butter. I need those suckers to pump hard all 26.2 miles long on October 9. But, just like any other addiction, they key is to wane yourself away from the good stuff in small steps.

So last night, I made an attempt to keep us a little bit in France, and a little bit grounded back in our Naperville reality. Since we are on a spending freeze until all the champagne and small luxury hotel of the world debt is paid off, we are back to dining at home every evening, at our little B and B, which is one of the best parts about being home.

I hadn't cooked in almost two weeks, which for me is a very, very long time. I had been craving a morning of reading food blogs and new recipes. And I had been craving an evening of chopping, seasoning, and sauteing. After many hours of very early morning (7 PM bedtime means 4 AM wake-up) reading yesterday, I chose a cod recipe, with a spicy mussel aioli. 

I steamed the mussels in a 2007 Sancerre that we surprisingly had in the cellar, reserved the liquid, (and also reserved the rest of the bottle for dinner.)

Used some of the sel de poisson that I brought back from the Marche d'Antibes to season the fish and then browned it for about four minutes per side.

I brought the mussel liquid back to a boil, and added the aioli. When warm, I added the mussels, and then served the fish with the sauce, and little strips of a red bell pepper that I just roasted.

It was a nice little evening back on the ranch. And while it's hard to be off the Riviera, off the charming streets of Paris, out of the bistros, away from the ocean views. Going back is always a little easier when there is a great reality and a kitchen that's always cooking to look forward to.

Bon Appetit. 

Lo.