If you live in a château and don’t exploit the thing, you’re a bad castle dweller. You must luxuriate in your château, not treat it like a museum. That dead noble everyone forgot about in the fourteenth century wants you to have fun. This morning I turned the rosette fountain into a bidet and there was a bit of chafing, but I was washing myself in a fountain. Fun.

When it comes to enjoying your castle, huge dinner parties are a requirement. On Sunday, Peptio invited the Australia International Cultural Council over, because we know people in high places, and these guys aren’t afraid of a good time. Unfortunately, they’re also not afraid to eat salted cat urine, and Vegemite is an abomination. Oh my God, you were all British convicts, but REALLY? That’s how you decide to get back at the Pommies? Stop it.

I did not serve Vegemite. I did serve Amandes de mer. And Gratin Dauphinois. And Cigalines accompanied by Far Breton, and these are things I serve at dinner parties. I’m Madeline. The evening was a huge hit with my mates from down under. By midnight, we had moved into the Medieval wing for an impromtu jousting tournament. Like I said, before. Enjoy your château.

Bisous,
Madeline