To all of you who wrote and contacted me following my last column to commiserate and offer sympathy about my recent injuries, thank you so very much. I really appreciate all your kind words and concern. And it was great to be reminded that you’re out there reading my scribbles. I always love hearing from you.

Let me reassure you that the reason my column did not appear last week on its normal schedule was not, as some feared, because I was laid up swathed in plaster and unable to type. No worries there  — the break in my left wrist was fairly minor and the classy black and pink cast I brought back from Idaho didn’t slow me down a bit. And I’m happy to report that, though my bones are not yet fully healed, I am already out of that cast and into a removable splint. My other injuries are also almost a dim memory.

But please indulge me while I spend a few moments more basking in all your goodwill and caring. Aaah, that feels good. I need to soak in as much as I can. Because I know you are going to hate me after you read the next paragraph.

The real reason I skipped a week was that I was eight time zones away, enjoying the second part of my summer vacation. In fact, I was recuperating by the salt water pool in the stunning formal gardens of a charming villa on the French Riviera, in an ancient walled town located high on a hill overlooking the yachts in Monaco’s harbor.

I told you that you were going to hate me.

Once again, my life was glamorized far beyond my income bracket courtesy of sister Marge, whose habit of renting large, luxurious vacation homes and inviting along numerous friends and relatives to enjoy them is one you really should encourage your siblings to emulate.

(What’s that? You have no faith in your relatives, and think it would be simpler to just weasel your way into Marge’s good graces, or have her adopt you? I regret to inform you that many others have already shared that thought. Please take a number. The line forms to the right.)

When Marge suddenly recalled that she had won a week’s stay in France at a silent auction last year (honestly, who forgets that kind of thing?), she quickly spread the word and put together a house party. The eight of us brave enough to face the dismal dollar/euro exchange rate (best advice: don’t calculate what you’re spending, or you may choke on your eight dollar scoop of gelato) eked out a fine time in the playground of the ultra-rich.

Some days we ventured into Monaco, where we walked, browsed the stores and checked out the extreme plastic surgery and très chic outfits passing us by. (Four-inch heels on steep, cobblestone streets. I was surprised not to spot an emergency ankle-care clinic on every corner.)

Other days we explored, we played games, we swam, we relaxed. We climbed the 800 steps down to the beach from our house and slogged our way back up the hill afterwards. I even ventured, cast waving above my head, into the turquoise waters of the Mediterranean, providing comic relief to all in sight. (I made it about two feet in when the combination of undertow, ball bearing-like pebbles underfoot and an ungentle wave knocked me onto what the French delicately call my derrière. It took me about 10 minutes to struggle back up, one-handed. See, I am deserving of all that sympathy you gave me.)

And we ate, a lot. I have stories, particularly about one memorable meal, that I’ll save for the next column.

For now, I’m just glad to be home with no new injuries, savoring my vacation memories — and what’s left of your good wishes.

Carrot-Daikon Salad

with Lemon-Fennel Dressing

The one good thing about transatlantic flights, even in steerage (which is how this jet-setter travels), is that they still serve meals. And on AirFrance the food actually wasn’t half bad. The refreshing carrot salad on my return flight reminded me how tasty and versatile carrots can be, and inspired me to create my own version.

Serves 6

1/4 cup high quality olive oil

1 tsp. fennel seeds

1 lemon, zest and juice

1/4 tsp. red pepper flakes

1 tsp. salt (or to taste)

3 cups shredded carrots (about 4)

1 cup shredded daikon, about a 4-inch piece (daikon is a Japanese radish — I have readily found it at the Napa farmers market)

1/2 cup raisins

In a frying pan over medium-high heat, toast the fennel seeds until they just start to brown. Pour them into a small mortar and pestle and lightly crush the seeds. (You could also do this on a cutting board with the back of a knife.)

Pour the olive oil into a small microwave-safe cup or bowl (I use a glass measuring cup). Add the fennel seeds, hot pepper flakes and lemon zest. Microwave for about 20 seconds, just long enough to warm the oil. Let sit. (If you can do this earlier in the day, or even the night before, do so — the longer it infuses, the better.)

Mix together the shredded carrots, daikon and raisins. Add the salt and lemon juice to the infused oil and whisk to blend. Pour the dressing through a strainer onto the carrot mixture. Toss to blend. Allow to sit a few minutes before serving to let the raisins plump up a bit.

Betty Teller’s doctor warned her against pushing, pulling and lifting, but much to Eddie’s relief, has not banned cat tummy scratching. Reach her at amuse-bouche@sbcglobal.net.