It’s not often nowadays that the man and I sit down and watch a movie sans devices and distractions.  And yet, somehow, last night we did just that completely out of the blue.  Finished with our Downton catch up, we noticed a movie that we’d both be hankering to see – and so, we watched.

Lasse Hallstrom’s “The 100 Foot Journey” is everything that is good about food. Food is wondrous, and beautiful and creative and sensual.  It is all things and no things — that’s sort of how I feel about the intangibility of it.

There are some film shots in the movie that made me fall in love with cooking all over again — and I’ve had a very long love affair with food.

It’s a simple and gentle film — it doesn’t sucker punch you, and it makes you fall in love with the beauty of France, even if you didn’t mean to.

It’s been a long and winding week.  Some good news, some excitement, a lot of stress and pressure for the end of the month.  And last night I dreamt of whisking fresh eggs in the French countryside.  That’s how visceral the film was. And human, in a Hollywood sort of way.

It’s exactly what I needed.