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on a blustery winter evening, i met up with three friends for a fantastic dinner at fada, located on driggs and n.8th in williamsburg. it lay dormant for me for many of the years that i’d resided in the area until one day, i ventured in with my then-boyfriend to discover a moderately priced french bistro serving delicious rustic fare.

tonight we started with escargot, which needed some salt, but were otherwise luscious and garlicky. the boys had soup, one french onion, the other the broccoli special of the day. they declared them “very good,” which was indicated further by their polishing off their spoons with their tongues. smartly, i’d ordered a hot and crisp order of frites, which were quickly dispatched with mayo or ketchup down our hungry mouths.

my entree was the duck cassoulet special, and it was rich, hearty and soothing on a cold night. i pierced plump chunks of sausage, forked tender morsels of duck into my face and thought, “this is the stuff that rejuvenates the heart and soul.” what could better cheer and bolster a wind-battered body than something as comforting as a classic french stew of white beans and meat? rhetorical question: nothing.

at home, i am now drifting off to bed in a haze of happy dreams, languishing in my food-induced stupor, and smiling faintly.