I Don 't Know About French Cuisine

The large cut on the right side of my forehead had begun to bleed again; my own blood threatening to choke me. “Calm down its ok. You're going through a rough phase that's all. Try to get some rest,” was all the comfort dad could manage before choking up into tears. He turned away as streaks of auburn curls lightly brushed against me, the owner tending to my wound. Rest, he says; not so easy when every time your eyes droop, the dreams begin. They have been getting worse, the closer I become in finding a way to bring her

Claire’s was the first face I saw. Covered in tears, she clutched her mouth with her trembling hand. Next I directed my gaze towards my father, his arms firmly wrapped around my distraught mother. He held her as if he was afraid he would lose her next. The panic on their faces sent my head even further into a spiral. My vision blurred as I fell down a rabbit hole of fear and emotion. Disoriented, I stumbled over my

Her whole world was crashing down. It what seemed like only a split second, her best friend’s father had been condemned to death. Someone who she considered to be like a father was going to be taken away, ripped away from her.

He burst inside, prepared to drop to his knees and ask for forgiveness, but nothing seemed amiss. In fact, Fleur had a lovely supper waiting on the table – roast pigeon and mashed parsnips dotted with thick dollops of butter.

Scarlett looked down at her six year old brother who was only three years younger. She could literally feel her heart breaking just by looking at him. His face was red, his eyes were red and puffy, and he had tear marks on his cheeks. Scarlett couldn't help but cry with him.

The feeling crept up on me, slowly, a suppressed whisper, a stifled scream. Hastening my steps I approach the scene, the stifled screams turn into a wail. I shudder. Then, all at once, it stops. The white wall of sound fades as I examine the scene. Crumbling stone, painted with layers of grime, haphazard mounds of trash, what a place to be killed. Uniforms litter the pathway, bagging, tagging, and searching. Searching for that one piece of evidence that will pin this guy down. Navigating further into the alley, I come to where the victim lies, her body resting amongst the carnage. A golden halo captures a youthful face, high cheekbones protruding from her creamy skin. Lipstick still staining her pale, lifeless lips. What once had been a true mark of beauty and youth, gone.

“Adam Jones had only lived 23 years of his life and been married for 3 days. A good man has been taken from us. At this time, would Avery Jones like to say a few words?” The pastor said. Avery didn’t know how to react to her husband's death. She has gone into deep depression. Her response was, “No.” she knew that if she were to say a few words that it would completely break her heart and she would never recover from her loss. All she could say at the funeral was, “Goodbye,

Remy and his new found partner take the food scene by storm. Conjuring magnificent meals that catches the eyes of a food critic. Following his success remy finds his family. Unfortunately they don’t see humans as remy does. His own family keeps him from following his dream of cooking. Luckily the critic’s dinner causes them to change their opinion on remy dream. In the end Remy followed his heart and his family followed. He choice to be himself instead of listening to wait everyone else wanted him to

Tears trickle down my cheeks as I try to convey today’s horrors. I was shaken up with what had occurred I couldn’t I am no longer with Derek as he has been moved to another home. I had never imagined in my wildest dreams that I and brother would be separated. For I may never see him again!

Pearl kisses his lips. A spell is broken. The great science of grief, in which the wild infant bore a party, had developed all of her synthesis; and as her tears fell upon her father’s cheek, they

In the center stood a pale, grief-stricken boy. No taller than my waist, he couldn’t have been any older than my little boy at home. Clothed in a tattered shirt, small whimpers came from his parched lips as I took a few steps closer to him. Small pools of blood had collected in the palm of his hands as he held a needle and ragged thread. To the left of his scarred feet lay a small, frail doll. It was falling apart at the

Wooden crutches grazed the tender skin under his arms, but he refused to sit. Pride prickled his spirit and straightened his spine and as Charlotte’s sea blue eyes met his, they crinkled with love, respect and admiration. Yet, they remained tinged with a hue of sadness that masked their shared grief.

“But… how could she have been happy, to die?” Ben’s eyes crinkled up, and he fell into his mother’s shoulder. Anna, who had been very young when her great-grandfather had died, also began to cry. The parents comforted the children the best they could, but it was the first death they had experienced in a family that had a history of longevity.

Food came out, so Percival and Fleur took their seats. Percival could not believe the incredible feast Cook had produced on such short notice. They started out with braised fennel and buttered root vegetables, then moved on to salads dressed with fish sauce. For the main course, they dined on chicken stuffed with bread and oysters. It was the finest meal Percival had ever consumed.

French cuisine is considered an art in France and dining is not just about food and drinks but it is about culture, family and socializing. French Cuisine is known for its richness of taste and its elegant. The French Culture is a very diverse assortment of different regions all put together, which add to its greatness.