It’s Bastille Day. You know the drill:I’m in a pickle: a Francophile who thinks that despite the corruption of the ancien regime, that the Revolution of 1789 was a disaster. Still, I don’t sing the revolutionary anthem because I support the Jacobins. I sing it because I love France. I wish all French people, and all fellow friends of France, une bonne fete. Are you going to cook anything tonight to celebrate? We’re going out to dinner, to a neighborhood French restaurant. If you don’t want to go out tonight, why not bring home a bottle of French wine? I’ve been drinking a lot of Burgundy lately, both white (Saint-Veran) and red (Beaune). UPDATE: I’ve just learned of an annual Bastille Day tradition here in Philadelphia: a comic celebration of the storming of the Bastille, held at the (now unused) Eastern State Penitentiary. It’s a big comic event, which culminates in “Marie Antoinette” and her confreres standing on the prison wall yelling, “Let them eat Tastykake” — then pelting the crowd with Philly’s hometown squishy-creamy treat. Take a look: