So you know when you eat something just so utterly delicious, so extraordinarily drool-worthy, so flipping awesomely good that you really just can’t find the words to describe it?
Well, yeah. That’s an American problem apparently. Because here in France they have hands down one of the best sayings on the planet to describe that feeling you have when the champagne/pastry/chunk of steak sliding down your gullet is causing a transcendental experience.
Do they say it’s like nectar from the gods? No. Do they liken the morsel to a radiant gift from above? Nope. They say:
“C’est comme un petit Jesus en culottes de velours!”
Which means, “Like baby Jesus in velvet pants.” A LITTLE BABY JESUS IN VELVET PANTS! I can’t even think straight when I say that phrase because it’s so ridiculously wonderful. And you know? That’s just how I like to think of Jesus: Swallowed whole and wearing fuzzy pantaloons. Second runner up of course being Jesus in a tuxedo t-shirt.