Les enfants ont été sages hier. It is always better when we go to the park. 

When I returned home, Thais and I began what turned into a 2-3 hour ordeal of preparing and baking Zewelkueche, Onion Tart, from a recipe I obtained at a wine tasting in Strasbourg last weekend. There were a few modifications involved. First, we employed a pre-made crust. Then, during our pleasant French/English communications, we left it in twelve minutes too long. Several French, English, and Portugese exclamations pelted the air as I made a grab for the oven door. Only dark brown on the edges, but our mistake called for a minor adjustment in baking. After sautéing the onions and bacon in a white Bordeaux wine—brilliant idea, Emilie—we cooked the filling separately, adding it to the well-baked crust as it left the liquid phase. To fill the time between our attempts to fill the tart, we watched Paris, Je T’aime. In the end, I understood little of the dialogue, but I retired to my warm bed brimming with Zewelkueche and Paris.