Lately, the Proust blogosphere has been a great void, but today, well, voila!
We have just returned from Montreal where they no doubt read Proust in French, a task I would find extremely daunting, although I get along fine with menu,signage,etc. in French. Montreal is a rather romantic city, not Paris of course, but still exciting.
We took in the fantastic exhibit of Cuban art at the Fine Arts Museum. In the early days, when the Spanish influence was still pronounced in Cuba, all the painters studied in France or Italy, and were obviously influenced by what they found abroad, which they interpreted in strictly Cuban ways.
One can eat well in Montreal and also coming and going at the CIA in Monpelier and at Simon Pearce in Queechee. We had bistrot chicken cooked on the grill last night and it was merveilleuse.