Le Beaujolais nouveau

So Friday night André and I attended the Beaujolais Nouveau celebration at the Heathman. It is apparently one of the biggest Beaujolais Nouveau parties in the country - who knew there were so many francophiles in Portland? I find it amusing that a culture with such supposedly high epicurean standards (France, not Portland) has produced an annual tradition based on a wine that nobody actually really likes. In any event, the Heathman party was pretty fun. We missed the suckling pig, but there was a bunch of really good cheese and crepes Suzette and macarons and a bunch of shrimps still with their eyes and whiskers. I love dressing up and hanging out in old-fashioned hotels for any reason, too. It makes me feel like Eloise at the Plaza, or a decadent, drunk old lady stepping on the hem of her evening gown.