Signs, Signs, Everywhere Signs

Raf and I loved this sign, next to a huge well in the middle of Carcassonne. I guess they don't want Americans to throw stuff into the well. S'il vous plait, indeed.

I took this picture (hard to see, hard to read) to remind me of the amazing dinner I had last night here at the Chateau de Floure. Because we've had such good meals there -- and we're lazy -- we haven't left the chateau to investigate nearby restaurants. We figure it'd be more hassle than it's worth; this way, we can see the girls in the room as we finish up our meals AND the food is incredible.

Anyway, last night I had the cassoulet, a rustic French stew with pork and duck parts simmered in a bean and vegetable casserole. It was not something I'd normally order, but I've read a lot about cassoulet so I figured I should try it and I was not at all disappointed. It reminded me of rustic Italian cooking, in which you could tell that it was a little of this, a little of that, whatever might be left in the pantry just simmered up until it's tender and comforting. Again, we had a bottle of wine from this region (Minerve) and also a plate of pate. Raf and I are enjoying the gastronomic pleasures of our stay at the Chateau, but it's clear that we cannot live like this. I may have actually put on 10 pounds in the two days we've been here.

So the last sign is my puffy eyes (from all the wine) and puffy belly (bread/cheese/wine/chocolate/butter... basically everything that the French do so well). As much as I like it here, I am also looking forward to going back to the land of coconut water, salads with lemon juice and wacko hour-long cardio workout classes...