Imagine a ^ over the i if you are a purist. I haven't the foggiest notion as to how to make that happen. There it sits, hovering over the 6, waiting for someone clever to make use of it. I, si triste, am not one of those clever ones.

Anyhow, there we were, outside of St. Quentin de Baron, our little vil lage, (not a typo, mes amis, but getting you into a mind set ) winding our way to Libourne (think Union Sq. Market on steroids) food market. We are talking serious food market. Huge, big, overwhelming feast for the senses, food market.

Twas Jonathan Swift, I read somewhere, who was reported to have said, "it was a bold man who ate the first oyster." I'd have been more impressed with watching that bold man open said oyster. Can you picture that while this guy was figuring out whether he could eat this thing there was another fellow sharpening a tool, creating mesh gloves, and mixing together a really yummy mignonette concoction?

Anyway, there we were choosing from amongst the zillion varieties displayed. Thinking that no aphrodisiac moment was in my future, I yielded to the choices of my companions. Pearls yes, love potions no.

Witnessed by the visual I have provided for you, they were tres bon.