I've finally had a good meal in France. In fact, make that 2 good meals, no hold on, OUTSTANDING meals in as many days. I feel like a very lucky girl.
Until now I'd have to say that Team Loser has not been completely impressed with the standard of cuisine here in La Belle France. I'm sure this has as much to do with the places we have frequented as the type of food on offer. When we have had the opportunity to dine out, we've discovered that a tantruming, noisy or even slightly energetic child is not easily tolerated in the majority of eating establishments. But you'll have to wait for my rant on this one when I eventually leave France!
For this post I want to recommend the lovely
Les Beaux Arts in Bages on the Etang de Sigean, south of Narbonne. Situated in the picturesque town square with alfresco dining, the outside tables and umbrellas offered a real oasis from the blazing heat of the midday sun.
I was joined for lunch by Jill and Ron, Rafferty's surrogate grandparents, who were staying with us on the first leg of their European tour. Next stop northern Spain, then Portugal and finally on to southern Spain before returning to Blighty a week later.
Our delightful lunch was cooked to perfection with both Ron (aka. Manny due to his huge popularity with Raffers) and myself ordering the sublime Calamar de la Plancha, squid so plump and succulent it simply fell off the knife. Smeared in a orgasmic blend of garlic, fennel, olive oil and breadcrumbs, the ingredients were grounded finely together to create the perfect marriage of mediterrean flavours, with the
piece de resistence being the salty freshness of the sea which glinted in the distance.
Jill (aka. Goose, as in Mother, and more recently the Baby Whisperer) choose a mouthwatering starter of Chanterelle mushrooms, juicy and perfectly formed. These were served alongside an outstanding salad of fresh leaves and juicy ripe ruby red tomatoes and complimented by a light and beautifully prepared dressing made with fresh basil.
And of course the wine was excellent. A crisp and cold bottle of white St. Chinian quickly arrived (and as quickly disappeared) leaving the Whisperer and I sitting contently in the afternoon sun watching the world go by.
The other highlight of the lunch was that Raffers was an absolute dream! He sat quitely, played with his cars and read his Thomas the Tank Engine book (well, looked at the pictures) throughout the entire meal. As a reward he was presented with a rather large and rather messy chocolate magnum type thing. Not realising it was in his best interests to hold it stick end, he grabbed it round the middle and put the stick in his mouth! Of course once he got the taste of wood and not chocolate he quickly insisted mum help out and hold it while he simply licked.
The next night was a slightly different story. As it was Manny and Whisperer's last night chez nous, we decided to go out to eat in Pezenas, which is beyond doubt my favourite town here in the Languedoc. I knew that our friends, having excellent taste naturally, would think the same.
Les Palmiers is a funky restaurant situated on a quaint cobbled side street with al fresco dining in the centre and an open plan mezzanine dining area. The feel is laid-back Ibiza chic, with palm trees and greenery climbing the stone walls, retro furnishings, and a focus on the colour red. We were seated near the entrance, which instantly made me paranoid (although it doesn't take much when dining in France) that it may have something to do with having
un enfant in tow.
Raffer's was not badly behaved. He was hot and bothered and tired, but his refusal to sit down was having the exact same effect on me. I could feel myself beginning to stress out as he fell and banged the man dining with his wife behind me. Here we go I thought, bracing myself for the obligatory staring and mumbling disapprovals I've become accustomed to in situations like this.
It would seem children are tolerated in restuarants, as long as they sit still and shut up. Failing that a quick slap round the face should soon stop the little buggers from making a scene. Unfortunately for our fellow diners, physically abusing our son was not something Roy and I were prepared to initiate on this particular evening.
Apart from the daggers I was getting from the uptight couple behind me, the meal was lovely. It took bloody ages to get a menu, but the lady serving us was friendly and almost chirpy. The food was excellent. Manny and I again opted for the same main course - a beautiful bloody steak dripping with blood and bathed in blood and every bloody delicious thing about bloody steak. It was bloody lovely!
Roy choose the succulent lamb which sliced readily off the bone like a Geisha's kimono opening at the touch of her Samurai lover's sword. (Apologies for the description but I've been reading a Japanese romance novel recently. I'm all for a bit of Jap-love). The Whisperer had a perfectly seared piece of tuna, dolphin friendly of course before you get the Green Peace brigade onto her.
Of course after I'd had 2 Kir's, instructed Roy he had to drive home, and then downed a few glasses of a fabulous red (Mas de Chimeres), I quickly forgot all the stressing over Rafferty and started to relax. Indeed, I then started to feel totally guilty and upset that I'd got so worked up and annoyed with him in the first place.
But this is, I'm quickly learning, the maternal cross one has to bare. Oh the joys of motherhood!
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