Wednesday, 18 July 2012

The French Club

After a hellish journey to France, which included 6 of lugging 17 pieces of luggage and dashing half way across Paris for our connecting train. Not recommended. #worsthalfhourofmylife. We ended up in Chez Weasel, Wanless' French crash pad. Did I mention I've been here before?

On arrival MrWanless/Titters/assflasher/Iain had waiting lashings of wine and a spread fit for a king.

Now I don't actually like lamb (I don't think he reads this) but as he's cooked it and I've eaten it before #tooscaredtofessup I went in for the kill, and it was delish, (OMG I'm turning into a saffer, god help us the world only needs one prawn)

Served with potato dauphinosie, french bean and beetroot salad, ratatouille (shit kate we've got competition) and a huge baguette. I've never seen Mike Mills so happy, except maybe the time we were in Vietnam and the hotel was so posh he couldn't speak for 2 days.

He just sat there beaming, discussing with Jon how the potatoes were 'next level' (weird, I've never heard either of them use that description before.)

Jon laughed for a good 10 mins about trying to entice (look away Jill) Biba to his crotch with a French bean... She looked about as interested as the rest of the population.

We drank wine and ate cheese the French way, seriously.

Move over red Leicester... There's a new cheese in town.
This gag seemed funny last night, this morning not so much.

Mike proceeded to coiff wine from a giant cup (Note 50p for scale.)

Look out for further French posts where Mark Mills (completely different person to mike) our resident blog photographer will be taking the photographic reigns.

Au revoir- til next time.

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