There are some words in French that just convey how different life is here. The word “Auberge” carries such a quality of hospitality and warmth. Oscar and I decided to lunch out today at Taillebourg at a restaurant named “L’Auberge des Glycines”. For the Romantic novelist this is the kind of venue where lovers might dine. Earlier in the year I strolled past when the front of the building was ablaze with mauve wisteria. Today rain fell on the river Charente as it swept past. In this mood I think the lovers would be discussing the impossibility of their love. As they talk, the raindrops leave their stamp of ripples on the flowing water – perfect circles, reaching for ever outwards and yet are swept helplessly onwards in the flow of life. These reaching innocent moments of perfection are born to fade into the chaotic power of the river. Maybe our lovers can escape the pull of time? As I sat sipping my aperitif, these were my sketches anyway. This restaurant is in a beautiful location. The cuisine is absolutely first class. The menu is relatively limited – but believe me, this is no bad thing. It means they know what they are doing and do it well. If you are in the region and fancy a real gourmet treat at a very reasonable price check out “L’Auberge des Glycines” here.
You know those cookery shows where some celebrities get a tin of baked beans, 2 kippers and a cabbage. Their task is to create a gourmet meal whilst celebrity chefs pontificate and mock their efforts. I thought I’d give it a go but without the mocking supercooks. I had some left over salmon, some Brussel sprouts and some potatoes and a couple of slices of bacon. I also had a rather dried out baguette, garden herbs and some chillis. The result was breaded salmon fish cakes with chilli sauce served with stir fried sprouts with bacon. At Intermarché whole Pacific salmon costs about 6 Euros and the bottle of Bordeaux will cost you 1.43 Euros. It’s obviously not a grand cru but it’s more than acceptable.
One day I’m gonna patent the safety cheese grater. Making my breadcrumbs I managed to remove enough fingerprints from my thumb to keep me out of Scotland Yard’s data base for life.
You can tell I’m back in France because I’m rattling on about love, food and wine. Well everything else is just dust and existence isn’t it? (Well, there is cycling I suppose).
Emma thinx: Love does not confer rights. But it makes your wrongs delicious.