Three women, three filet des perches plates, one dog

At -2°C outside, the restaurant Marroniers was toasty inside.

This was my third lunch there this week, but this time it was with two friends, women who had been born in America but spent most of their adult life overseas.

J had arrived last as M and I did writer things together for the hour and a half before lunch.

I am the new kid of the block only having been here a total of 26 years if you combined my three living periods in Stuttgart, Toulouse and now Switzerland. However, the last has been constant since 1990.

We ordered filet des perches, a local specialty, and always fresh from the lake when served. Cordelia, the Irish wolfhound that is bigger than many small ponies, lay under the table.

We loved our waiter Adrien's face when M ordered a hamburger for the dog.

"Seriousement?" he asked.

M said she was serious.

Within minutes the chef came out to see us saying he was happy to cook it anyway the dog would like it, but he thought raw would be best for her digestion. The hamburger arrived in a pretty blue dog dish.

When J, M, and myself get together with or without Cordelia, the conversation  never lags for topics or depth be it FATCA, Swiss politics, gender relations, etc.

Despite of being of the same generation and from the same country, California, Massachusetts and New Jersey provided different backgrounds. M was from an immigrant family and Catholic. My parents' family had been on the continent from the 1600s and J's was in between.

All of us had children, although I'd produced the only daughter.

Our religious backgrounds were nothing, Catholic and Protestant.

Our philosophies of life were quite identical perhaps reflecting the time and culture we were raised in, but more likely to how well read we all are.

I'm so lucky to have such bright and lovely women friends.