Things I will never tell my son

When I met the guy that today is my husband, he was almost vegetarian, he used to have for lunch a one euro onion soup from the cantina in the university and when he met with his buddies, party! They cooked canned bins.

With time and my healthy influence, Martin learnt to ask for an "Abadia Retuerta" instead of red wine. In the last family holidays (the age is the reason, according to him) he surprised me with gastronomic sessions unknown before to someone who in the past preferred to bite a muesli bar in order to save time during trips.

After two hours of guided visit in a Carrefour in Montpellier, in which the kind personnel helped him fill three boxes with French wine, we drove to a village which only highlight was to host a restaurant recommended in the Michelin guide. The ex-vegetarian ordered tongue and rabbit, and I enjoyed a fantastic Tuna. It tasted better that breast is supposed to taste, by the looks of my son.

And talking about my son, what did we do with the little hurricane in a restaurant where people wear ties and hide rings in the chocolate mousse? Well, this is something I will never tell him. While we eat like kings, coffee and dessert included, he was painting with colors and playing with the stones in the garden. When we were done, we gave him a banana and some bread and took him to the merry-go-round. I know. We are bad.