We are swimming in pate post-weekend party. Pate, cheese, and cookies, which, in combination make for a bad week on the scale - especially since we'll be out with people most nights this week, so getting to the gym will be tough. I did manage to make a picnic-y dinner of pate, cheese, bred and pickles - trying to evoke future memories of our trip to France next Spring.
My brother is in town this weekend - interviewing for a residency spot. Why is it the first things I think about are whig restaurants to go to? Partly, I think, because he came up with his med-school buddies and they did almost everything there is to do. Not the Circle line, though, and it might be warm enough this weekend.
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