I officially joined the elusive group of ladies attending evening cooking classes. For those who are unfamiliar with the concept: these are classes where one does not need to make one's hands dirty - note-taking and sampling various delicacies prepared by very skilled chefs is all that is required.
Having had the pleasure of one such class at London's Claridges, I thought that my retired lifestyle calls for more. And here I was, Thursday evening, in a sophisticated kitchen store, in an even more sophisticated shopping mall in Atlanta. I dressed appropriately, and bore the right attitude, or so I thought... Oh, the elegant dresses, the pearls, the discrete smell of perfume... The ladies who attend these classes are distinguished-looking, extremely pleasant, and impressively knowleadable about food and drink, various other aspects of savoir vivre, giving cocktail parties, etc. I tested two recipes back home, when preparing a little soiree for family. Husband and the rest were appropriately impressed. A new day has dawned for me. Still no pearls in sight though.
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