My mother, a.k.a. Mama Spyplane, is Française, so when I was a kid we spent lots of summers over there. I can still picture it: Young Spyplane le Petit Prince eating framboises with creme fraiche in a dusty bohemian flat near the Bastille at age 7, chasing them with black-market absinthe and praliné bars from a tiny chocolate factory on the Rue St. Sabi…