Le Petite Gourmands

Gourmet Mice Traps by Davide Luciano & Claudia Ficca (http://www.designboom.com/art/gourmet-mouse-traps-by-davide-luciano-and-claudia-ficca-11-05-2013/ )

I don't know about the rest of the country, but mice in Manhattan are real snobs. 

Why? 

Well, lets retrace this story back a few months ago when I got home from work at 2AM wanting to do nothing more then sleep on my mushy air mattress. I threw my bag down, washed my face and hit the hay. I closed both eyes. 

A moment later I heard a rustling in the garbage bag. I turned over to find nothing. I realized the window had been cracked open so I hoisted myself up and shut it. As I took a few steps back to my bed I noticed the bag shaking. 

I took a few steps back away from my bed and the bag. 

"What the..."

A small shadowy head popped up over the garbage. Not knowing at 2AM what on earth it may be I did a dance of sorts and leapt up on to the swivel chair. Startled by my frantic panicking, the small creature scurried into the bathroom. I quickly slammed the door shut as if a murderer was waiting on the other side. Exaushted, I decided to deal with it in the morning. 

Unfortunately, I found a small opening in the wall behind the toilet and was now facing a major mice infestation. I set out traps but they did nothing. I laced the traps with peanut butter and crackers but that did nothing. Not one night went by that I didn't hear the pitter-patter of thumbtack feet on the wood boards. With my luck, I knew one morning I would wake up to my furry roommates on my chest. I just knew it! 

Although that never happened, something worse did. 

Eventually, the mice started to eat their way through my boxes that I never bothered to unpack (from my move back in August). Enough was enough, I was living with these unwelcome critters and I had to face the box of unknown contents. I slowly opened the cardboard flaps to unveil my cast-iron skillet (I currently don't have a kitchen), a few loose coffee mugs and on top a bag of semolina flour that was clearly ripped open and covered in mice droppings. More so, they dined on my nutmeg and fennel pollen! I was facing no ordinary mice. I was facing epicurean rodents with high culinary demands. 

I enlisted the aid of my father and together we opened Chez Petite Gourmand! A one of kind culinary experience for mice, where they come to dine but there is no dashing! We laced sticky pads with small mounds of nutmeg. That night our party of two ( I anticipated their reservations) did arrive, however, they only left as a party of one. 

My father and I felt accomplished. We were mouse free for a few days. 

Non! They returned. This time they brought their families (kids eat free!). Where were they? What could they be eating? I wondered. 

One box was left. I must have overlooked it. I opened it to find a vessel of cookies that had been torn from the inside out and the outside in. This took "When you give a mouse a cookie" to literal hieghts! Since the discarding of the cookies and the rest of the food I found; I have closed Chez Petite Gourmand. It's reopening is to be determined.