I had a fast escape from New York over Thanksgiving, flying to Paris for the weekend. In some ways, what struck me most was a sort of experiential malaise. I didn't stay at a hotel. Or even an AirbnB. It turned out my booking in the Marais was a dowdy apartment....
Who wants to work a double shift, then come home to confit duck gizzards and make stuffing amid a messy kitchen and cluttered fridge? Not moi! Nevertheless, having agreed with my mother to forgo Thanksgiving turkey for duck, well, moi it was! For this most American of...
