france-123 Bettie hired me at the Los Angeles Times and we became fast friends when we discovered our common fascination of carnies and stone babies. So there was little doubt that this was going to be a hair-brained adventure. Bettie, her boyfriend Mark and their friend Joe and I drove around in a classy Alfa Romero with a crazed look in our eyes as we sought out specialties from in the Perigord and pondered the love affairs going on between the paysannes working in industrial cheese factories and the Mrs. Robinson and Ben Braddock-characters making walnut oil by Sarlat. This trip yielded such insanity, but we saw many strange and mysterious things on our journey. Okay most of it was from our collective imaginations, but at least the food was for real. Too real, in fact, as I probably gained about four pounds when I came back from stuffing myself silly. We also probably set the bar for franglais, which is what you want for a successful road trip in France. As Mark later put it, “Time and culture move on, and we are THE FUTURE.  Franglais is super-mauvais!” Ouais, totally.

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