Finally, as promised, a run-through of our two-star Michelin experience in France. As I mentioned, we had lunch in L’Oasis in La Napoule near Cannes while on our holliers a few weeks back.
Given that the set lunch menu is €72 a head, I did hmm and haw about booking a table. This was lunch, after all. After a phone call from my brother, in which he howled at the thought that we might not sample Michelin-starred food when it was so nearby, and a conversation with the husband, in which he reasonably pointed out that we had already (a few days earlier) spent €130 on a round of golf for him plus €60 for lunch in the clubhouse afterwards, I booked the table.
I know I’ve been promising reports on the food in France, not to mention the healthy eating recipes but I’m zonked after a week of celebrating (?!?) turning 30, culminating in an until-all-hours party last night.
So instead, here are pix from the drool-inducing Cours Saleya market in Nice. This is how all markets should be – a riotously colourful offering of every type of fruit and veg you could imagine and more besides. I should really go to the trouble of writing about this but brain is porridge.
Just posting to say, yes, I’m still here and, yes, I’m still eating, although so busy I’m not really cooking. (Dinner tonight was a toasted sandwich with hummus, tomato and chorizo – a raiding-the-fridge job – a natural yogurt and, how gluttonous am I, a whole 100g Green & Blacks milk chocolate bar.)
Have loads to report as was in France for 10 days and ate like a queen (cake and everything else besides). We even made it to a two-star Michelin restaurant! Once I get some time and figure out how to upload photos from the new camera, I will report in full. Short report: Fab. Delicious. Verging on the orgasmically good.
Have even more to report as then embarked on a complete health kick when I got home (minor slip-up there earlier on the chocolate front) so have lots of healthy recipes to post too.
Planning holidays to the south of France at the moment and to get in the mood, I bought a headily ripe wedge of Brie de Meaux this morning. As a result, the car smells like an old man farted in it but it’s worth it. The Brie is at that stinky melting stage where you can just schmear it on crusty white bread and gorge.
I ate half of it. The other half is in the fridge. The husband will have my guts for garters when he comes home and catches the wanton stench of it (which will be at the end of our street, probably).
I had a quick look online for recipes involving brie but I’m not sure that anything beats the combo of brie and crusty French bread. Mind you, a turkey, brie and cranberry toasted sambo is pretty good too.
Incidentally, this site says Brie de Meaux goes perfectly with champagne, which would have made for a very decadent solo lunch had I known earlier.
The lack of posts here in the last few weeks tells its own tale. I’ve been far too busy being festive to write, or cook, anything much. Of all the eating and drinking I’ve been doing, the highlight was probably a trip to Guilbaud’s, courtesy of some high-flying financial types.
We ate in the private dining-room, which was lovely, although I would have preferred to be in the main room, soaking up the atmosphere, that is, if lots of rich, middle-aged people chowing down at lunchtime create much of an atmosphere.
Just finished reading an extraordinary essay by Rosecrans Baldwin, one of the founding editors of The Morning News. In it, he details a gluttonous, soused weekend in Paris, taking a few detours along the way to discuss cholesterol, bilingual children, conceptual art and the difference between a cocotte and culottes.
Good food writing should make the reader hungry and after savouring his article, I am ravenous and suddenly have a desperate need to go back to Paris, like I won’t be happy if I’m not on a plane there in the next 24 hours.