Yesterday afternoon Tiny G, his nanny and I took the afternoon off for a trip to the Los Angeles Zoo. I am not a “zoo” person. I don’t like seeing animals in cages. I was, however, impressed by how many of the inmates Tiny G’s nanny had sampled including iguana (“tastes like chicken”) and an exotic bird whose name escapes me (“grilled it’s delicious”). In fairness, I had to cop to a kangaroo meat pie I’d enjoyed in Australia several years ago. But I digress.
While Tiny G went ape over the giraffes, I was sort of gobsmacked by how beautiful the zoo is in bloom.
The saturated technicolor of the flamingos was also amazing, which inspired me to crack open a bottle of Bandol rosé for dinner last night with a roast chicken, which I’m told tastes like iguana.
But perhaps the most arresting were the graphic succulents that line the walkways. Love.
Sadly I neglected to snap a pic of the orangutan, which upon seeing, Tiny G yelled “Dada!”