Reese is flying to Paris Tuesday with Bob, so I got my family together to throw him a Bon Voyage/Good Friday party last night. Ever since the fishsticks and macaroni-&-cheese of Good Fridays past, I’ve eaten fish on Good Friday. It’s not an act that’s associated anymore with a particular belief system. I can’t even remember if it was a venial or mortal sin to eat meat on Good Friday, I just remember the tradition. I made a kind of cioppino, but put a French spin on it by adding potatoes. It was very yummy. June made a nice citrus and mango salad that complimented the stew with sweet acidity, and then Didi served us a berrry pie for dessert. We all drank too much, just like good Catholics.
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