Superbowl Sunday, French style.

If you know me at all, you probably know that I’m not a passionate enough football fan in general, nor a Patriots fan specifically, to stay up until 5am to watch the Superbowl. However, you also know that I love to host a good party, so we celebrated the event with a crêpe extravaganza.

For an apéro (pre-dinner nibbles) I served red pepper slices. I brought out the bowl and our friend sort of laughed and said “you’re joking, right?” Apparently he had never heard of snacking on red peppers. Like peanut butter, red peppers are not a thing here. Which is funny, since in America we use the French word “crudité” to describe a platter of cut up veggies. Anyways, despite his initial skepticism, the peppers were a hit. So were the crêpes, made by V with love, filled with ingredients such as salmon, ham, and mushrooms in cream sauce made by yours truly, and topped with an egg laid that morning in our friend’s backyard.


We did stay up past our bedtime to watch the first quarter of the game. As I explained the basic rules of the game to V, I surprised myself with my somewhat extensive knowledge. I haven’t watched even a minute of football in the past few years, but I guess that we learn football by osmosis in ‘Murca. We woke up this morning to learn that the Eagles were victorious. “I’m sorry,” said V given my New England roots. “I literally don’t care at all,” I replied. Sorry to my New England peeps in mourning; congrats to all my Philly peeps who have been waiting for this win for decades.

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