France 2024 – Days 20 and 21 – Good food

Giulia made me a lasting gift: She found tortillas at the Carrefour supermarket, so I was able to have a quesadilla for breakfast. Mind you, these are Old El Paso flour tortillas, but beggars can’t be choosers. She also found some Mexican salsa there, but I passed on that; for the time being I am working on a small bottle of sriracha sauce, which is not really spicy but is flavorful.

The big event of the day was, of course, my planned déjeuner at La Guinguette de Pombonne, but I got stuck to the very last minute uploading a huge file to my Google Drive, so I rushed out of the house (and took a wrong turn along the way) to barely make it at noon sharp to the restaurant. Pas de problème, because lunch is an easy affair in France, not to be ruled by any silly notions of being on time for a meaningless reservation. So I was welcome like an old friend, shown to a table in the terrace, and after ordering a bière pression I was offered the menu. Alas, no moule frites ☹ (later I was to find out that moule frites are prepared for the afternoon dîner, so I will plan to take Géraldine there next week when she comes to visit. Well, then what I was going to have? I settled for a grilled steak of duck, which was absolutely delicious, served with the ever present French fries (which are not called French fries in France), and the delightful atmosphere of a terrace that filled rapidly over the following half hour.

On the way back I made a long circuit around the park before taking to the streets and, as I was riding on the street that parallels the train tracks, I spotted a big bush of rosemary by the sidewalk. Slow to react, I stopped a few meters farther, side by side with a lavender bush in full bloom. I made a good harvest of both herbs, which are now hanging upside down over the open kitchen window. Life is getting savory in my tiny house.

And of course, the grand moment of my culinary day was unveiling my terrine de lapin … drum roll … quelle deception! Instead of getting a nice firm gelatin-suspended prism, my master piece barely stood up to the pull of gravity, akin to a battered hat sagging when placed on the table. Clearly I had not used enough agar—or the calf’s foot was a crucial part of the recipe. All was not lost, however, because the flavor was divine. Quel dommage, but I still have another month and a half to perfect some of the fine points of French cooking.

The following day we had morning rain, a break that I took advantage of to go for a bike ride, and a cool cloudy afternoon, so I stayed home working on my book. I did have a very nice lunch of sea snails with a mayo laced with generous amounts of burgundy. It was very good, so I will have to repeat this this when Ronnie is here. He is an adventurous eater and am sure he will love them.