“Ma Petite Poule, says le Coq Gaulois”

The years I am here for Thanksgiving, I am sure to bake a babe — a French gobble-gobble that must be special ordered from M. Poulet, my favorite butcher, and invite my closest friends for an American feast. When she is placed in the center of the table (already laden with traditional and tasty dishes), the special invitées start the oo-ing and ah-ing and picture-taking.

It never fails that at least one of us is compelled to take what I call the porno shot — dead center between the legs and thighs, exposing the inner cavity, the breasts sitting high and proud, the bird ready to be pounced on (by we hungry Thanksgiving celebrators). Poor darling always reminds me of the vulnerability one feels straddling a gynecologist’s examining table.

Every year when Turkey Day rolls around, I expound on the virtues of the French dinde — how she cooks in half the time, but is not half-baked and is darker and juicier than her American counterpart. Do you think there is some correlation here to females of the human species?

A French friend who moved to the States with her American husband while in her twenties, claims her neighbors immediately assumed that because she was French, she could be their sexy little chickadee. That laid a big egg.

I recently discovered the Crèmerie-Fromagerie in the Marché des Enfants Rouge sells huge double-yoked eggs. Call this a ménage à trois and the yoke will be on you.

Ma Poule, Ma Poule — my daughter’s French boyfriend calls her affectionately. He being the Gallic Rooster…one of the national emblems of France — the Coq Gaulois — that decorated French flags during the Revolution. It seems so apropos that the cock in the hen house should symbolize France and the French. What better way to rule the roost than by a Latin lover?

I could tease and tempt you further, but I’ll leave that job for the turkey.

Happy Thanksgiving!

A la prochaine…

Adrian Leeds

Editor, Parler Paris
Email [email protected]

P.S. I’ll be having turkey this year at Tujague’s in the French Quarter of New Orleans. I’m sure she’ll be big breasted and plump and every bit as sexy as her French counterpart, but as tasty? We shall see!