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I declared to Mother the other day that perhaps I will go to cooking school in Paris after I graduate college. ("Mm-hm," she said.) I think all of the cooking shows that I've been watching since getting my wisdom teeth out have been influencing me. But goodness knows that the food and cafes in France convinced me of this declaration as well, particularly the cafes. The relaxed atmosphere, the little wine glasses on each table, the scrumptious haricots verts, the sauces, the smaller portions, the cafe tables facing the street, the open windows, the waiters who come out with chalkboards . . .
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I declared to Mother the other day that perhaps I will go to cooking school in Paris after I graduate college. ("Mm-hm," she said.) I think all of the cooking shows that I've been watching since getting my wisdom teeth out have been influencing me. But goodness knows that the food and cafes in France convinced me of this declaration as well, particularly the cafes. The relaxed atmosphere, the little wine glasses on each table, the scrumptious haricots verts, the sauces, the smaller portions, the cafe tables facing the street, the open windows, the waiters who come out with chalkboards . . .
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can I come visit your cafe? :)
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