The following is excerpted, with author permission, from the best-selling book “The Measure of My Powers: A Memoir of Food, Misery, and Paris” by Jackie Kai Ellis.
A bottle of rosé wine, chilled with ice cubes in your glasses.
Salty, meaty olives. The ones with lemon confit are very nice.
Fromage de chèvre frais, a mild, creamy goat cheese usually made that morning.
A paper bag of fresh petits pois. You shuck them as you eat them, picking the little green pearls out of their pods and popping them in your mouth.
A handful of cherries. The stems aren’t necessary but make them so much more fun to eat.
Four apricots, ripe, tender, and blushing slightly.
A big ripe red tomato that looks very juicy. (Bring a knife to cut this.)
A baguette, bien foncée, or well browned. There is no joy in eating bread that is whiter than an inner thigh in the dead of winter.
Linen napkins, which you lay on your lap. It keeps your tidy and doubles as a plate too.
