Life's a Bowl of Moules
July 12, 2005
Look at me. I’ve got the greatest pillows in Nice, France, Europe.
But enough about Mom’s pillows, I’m bored with them—and so is everybody else by now, I think. What I’m really into lately is “MOULES.”
Moules, or muscles in wine and butter sauce. Moules in tomato sauce. Moules with caramelized onions. Moules sautéed, baked or in soup—I’m crazy about moules! I will sit here and Mom will drop them into my mouth until I get sick.
Mom says they cost about the same a dog food in the states. I think that’s why Dad loves them so much, because they’re really cheap and you can order a bucket of them for the price of a bag of cat litter.
The great thing about moules, is that they have to be eaten right away. You can’t take them home and eat them the next day.
Mom: “How can something so good turn so bad the next day?”
Dad: “I guess you haven’t dated much.”