Stratford Indulgences

I just finished eating the most decadent chocolates from Rheo Thompson. I can't come up with an appropriate description of the creamy, semi-sweet richness. You know those Aero commercials with women moaning ridiculously over vending-machine chocolate? Yeah, well, if the ads were about the few morsels I just ate, they would be about a very real slice-of-life moment. Just one bite makes me speak in iambic pentameter: "Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?"

I spent the weekend in Stratford. Three plays in two days. I've gone every summer for the past five years now. And every summer it's the same: I go with my dear friend whom I met in Stratford when we were students of Shakespeare. We eat garlic fries. We stay at our favorite bar until last call. We shop for chocolate.

We've established a tradition that will have us returning annually until we're little old ladies, sitting on Balzac's patio, sipping lattes and discussing the new crop of talent's interpretations of Shakespeare.

As we were leaving today, we saw a super-slender women in a tailored dress walking past the shops wearing the most extravagant hat. It had some sort of ornamental flourish. Either flowers or feathers. It was hard to tell from where we were. She had this classy French air about her. This year, I wore dresses in Stratford. Perhaps I'll wear hats next year. I need to embrace a little more Europe in my personal style.

French Women Don't Get Fat is being adapted into a film. Yes, it's a diet book. Or lifestyle tome, if you want to be specific. There is no plot. But because I admire looking at croissants and stylish French women, I won't completely write off the Hilary Swank vehicle just yet. Mean Girls was based on a work of non-fiction. And it was brilliant. Head on over to MovieZen for more.

I doubt they have a Marble Slab in France. If they did, French women would get fat. And get happy. Double dark chocolate, peanut butter, cherries. In a Butterfinger waffle cone. I would do the Parisian wine-and-cheese thing as long as there was room for homemade ice cream.

P.S. Audrey Tatou is my favorite French woman. She is welcome to go hat-shopping with me in Stratford next summer.