My host dad Jean François, who is retired, is the first one up every morning, to get breakfast ready for us. He sets the table, and puts out all the bread*, spreads and cheese, makes the coffee, and even heats up some milk for me in a saucepan, because he knows that’s the way I like it and they don’t have a microwave. (For the French, cow’s milk is for baby cows. Black coffee only.)
I’m never having anyone to stay at my house ever again, because how can I possibly compete??
*stale as per tradition
