Bastille Day Party at the Mansion

Thursday, July 15th, 2004 | Gay, Uncategorized

My Pommes Anna was a knockout–how could one go wrong with butter, potatoes, salt and pepper? It was like a 12 inch potato chip. Davide and I hauled our creation to John’s Bastille Day dinner, hot from the oven. John made acoq au vin that was out of this world, and garlicky escargot, someone else made a sad potato thingy that paled in comparison to my grand galette, and there were green beans, then tarte tatin, a chocolate torte, a berry tarte, and lots of wine, including several 20 year old wines, limoncello (from France?), and stimulating drunken conversation and song.

The guys at the party were arch queens, half wore ascots, and several had matching English accents. Bryan, “with a ‘Y’,” the monarchist, and I discussed our mutual friend and his neighbor, the heir to all the Russias, and Henry II’s children; Lacoste-Sweater-Queen asked if what I did for a living had anything to do with my looking smart–I said, “No, I’m an artist;” Philip wore a lavender ensemble (the colors of the French flag put in a blender); Ted called Davide alternately “David-oo” and “David-ah;” Another guy called him “Doris-day;” John made a brilliant toast tying the defeat of the Constitutional amendment banning gay marriage to the storming of the Bastille, rallying us to matrimonial arms; and Recent-Bike-Wreck-Boy, a member of the SF Opera Chorus, led us through the Marseillaise. At one point we all wore silly French hats, and everybody swooned when Davide tried on the feathered velvet one and instantly transformed into a della Francesca youth.

A lovely evening.

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