Max Week & a 14-hour Brunch

So many things! First of all, it's important to point out that we did follow through on our agreement from Winter Formal.  Max brought in a bag full of clothes for us to wear all week, and while we passed on the khaki pants, Max Week (a full week of dressing & acting like Max) was a huge success. 

Shortly after Max week, I was invited for brunch by some great friends, Ludo & Svet.  We started at 1pm at their apartment for Champagne, olives, prosciutto, olive tapenades, and fresh twisty flutes of chorizo bread.  Around 3 or 4pm, we had a delicious, perfectly cooked roasted chicken with a special potato recipe by Ludo - thinly sliced potatoes covered in cream with prosciutto, a tomato & tabouli salad, and bien sur, a cheese course.  

Any time you are invited by a half Italian/half French person to dine, always always accept.  

I thought surely our brunch was coming to an end, but it continued into more chatting, somehow evolved to squeezing into the tiny backseat of Ludo's car around 7pm for a trip to Fouquet's on the Champs Elysee for a drink and snacks (round 3?).  We could barely fit our legs in back there, but we managed just fine.

Then suddenly 9pm dinner reservations were being made for Terroir Parisien.  A progressive brunch indeed.  

How about that mushroom ice cream.

We ran into a chef that Ludo & Nicolas knew, so he and his wife joined the table for dinner half way through.  Then of course, with new friends in tow, it was suggested that we return once again to Fouquet's, where a new set of dessert snacks were served, and where Ludo found himself a nice new hat outside.

All that to say...When you get invited to brunch by a French Italian, just be ready to leave in the morning, eat for 14 hours straight, and return when the Eiffel Tower has gone dark and most of Paris is asleep.