I still think of myself as a shy person, something that someone who’s met me in the past five years or so probably wouldn’t understand. Now, I’m always the first one to…
Author: emiglia
Apple Sparkle Cake
When I was in undergrad, my father strictly prohibited me from getting a job. This, to me, seemed preposterous: who in their right mind would tell their daughter, whose work ethic had…
Le Salon du Chocolat
Halloween is not a very big deal in France. We Americans tend to ignore this fact: the past three years, Halloween has been as big an affair as it is back home,…
Soup for the Sick
I am sick today. Not very sick, mind you, but just sick enough that I feel pretty OK about lounging around my house in pajamas, whimpering softly at regular intervals and eating…
Scrambled Eggs with Gruyère
The worst thing about having had a large part of my French instruction within a group of 20-something boys is that I am the only one laughing when, in illustrating grammar points…
Montaigne and Bolognese
Distingo est le plus universel membre de ma logique. – Michel de Montaigne I don’t know whether it’s the sign of a true blogger or a true lit. geek, but whichever the…
Pumpkin Chicken Chili
One of the things I love the most about living (and eating) in France is how easy and second-nature it is to eat with the seasons. The Shoe Fiend, one of my…
Back to school
Those of you who knew me as a Linguistics major in Toronto probably know quite a few things about language that you didn’t ever feel the need to learn, such as the…
Bob and Chicken Sweet Potato Chili
One of the first things I learned when I first moved to France–not when I was fourteen and lived en famille, but when I was in Cannes and actually had to take…
Confiture d’abricot
Every morning, I ride the Paris métro for more than half of the line 8. It’s a long commute, but not altogether unpleasant, in large part because my bosses have a very…