I did vaguely allude to a French summer holiday in my first post, and now that I'm stuck in cold dark Cambridge with only a glass of wine for company I thought I would reminisce about my time away.
As you might imagine we ate, and more importantly drank, our way around France squashed in the car between the tent and the rudimentary camping stove. One of my favourite days was an unorganised trip to a vineyard. We turned up unannounced late morning, thinking we could potter around and try a few wines, but even after a couple of weeks in France we still had underestimated the importance of lunch. Someone kindly explained that it was very nearly lunchtime but we could join another group for a tasting session and a bite to eat. I very quickly delegated the drive home to the girlfriend and tucked into the wine.
Then lunch was served by the lady of the chateau wearing a horrible yellow and orange satin jacket. Out came rillette, bread and salad. And, of course, a glass of wine. Thinking that this was it, we both, having paid €20, filled our plates and ate a lot. This was our second mistake of the day. This course was soon whisked away to be replaced by a dish of coq au vin. Feeling slightly full we struggled, but our frequently refilled wine glasses helped wash it down. Then the dessert of sobet made from, unsurprisingly, wine was delivered. By this stage I was pissed enough to agree to have more wine poured on top. All in all, a great afternoon.
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