I know, I know – I’ve been boring you out of your brain with my stuff about Shanghai.
Sorry ’bout that.
Today something completely different.
This is Paris, in 1950.
Now write a story about this…
I know, I know – I’ve been boring you out of your brain with my stuff about Shanghai.
Sorry ’bout that.
Today something completely different.
This is Paris, in 1950.
Now write a story about this…
Paleontologist. By day, researcher, teacher and ecological statistics guru. By night, pulp fantasy author-publisher, translator and blogger. In the spare time, Orientalist Anonymous, guerilla cook.
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17 October 2014 at 12:49
This reminds me of a place called Nos Ancêtres le Gaulois – a dark and smoky den in Paris where one ate huge, half-raw, half scorched steaks, served by waiters in Gaulish-ish fancy dress. It was described to me in loving and laughing detail, and it sounded like something tour agencies sprang on unsuspecting tourists…
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17 October 2014 at 12:51
Like those places in Britain where they provided you a “King Arthur” dinner.
Scary.
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