Aftelier Perfumes: Cooking with Fragrant Essences (Part I)

Noma restaurant, Copenhagen. Source: www.tiboo.cn

Noma restaurant, Copenhagen. Source: www.tiboo.cn

If you’re a foodie, there may come a time when you experience something whose flavour is so remarkable that words fail you, hyperbole becomes actual reality, and taste feels like a revelation. That is what happened to me the first time I tried one of Mandy Aftel‘s Chef’s Essences. My eyes grew wide, words didn’t come out in full sentences, and I felt a mixture of awe and disbelief. I know it sounds like an exaggeration but it’s not, and I mean it with absolute sincerity. Some of Mandy Aftel’s Chef’s Essences rocked my (food) world, and I think they’re pure genius. I’m not the only one. Ms. Aftel’s creations are used in the White House, as well as some of the top restaurants in the world.

The Collection is an extensive one, with 15 essential sprays and over 50 essential oils, ranging from basic items like Black Pepper and Cinnamon to funky things like Peru Balsam, Frankincense, Fir Needles, Ylang-Ylang, Magnolia, and Violets. I’ve tried 11 of them now and wanted to share my experiences with you, covering what exactly they are, why they are a remarkable invention, how you can use them, and some of my adventures (or misadventures in a few cases). The ones I’ve tested are: Rose, Ginger, Blood Orange, Pear, CognacCepes (Porcini Mushrooms), Chocolate, Tarragon, Sweet BasilCoriander Leaf (Cilantro), and Pink Pepper. Today, I’ll start with a background explanation and introduction, then focus on 5 of the Essences: the Ginger, Sweet Basil, Rose Absolute, Blood Orange, and Pear. The remainder will be covered in Part II.

Just a few of the Chef Essence oil bottles and two of the Chef Essence sprays. Photo and source: Aftelier.com

Just a few of the Chef Essence oil bottles and two of the Chef Essence sprays. Photo and source: Aftelier.com

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Let’s Play Questions… Vol 6: Christmas, Presents & Perfume

Source: Pinterest. Original source unknown.

Source: Pinterest. Original source unknown.

I wanted to wish you all a very Merry Christmas, if you celebrate the day, and a very happy end of the year if you don’t. For those who partook in the festivities of the day, I thought it would be nice to have a chatty post where we could all share some of the highlights. So, it’s time for another round of the Questions game. Take a gander at any or all of the following.

  1. What was your scent of the day or night, either on Christmas Eve or today?
  2. What was one of the more cozy or fun parts of either day?
  3. What were some of your favorite gifts that you received? If you received any perfume, you really must share! 🙂

I’ll start first, but please feel free to talk about whatever you’d like.

Question 1. I rarely get the chance to wear perfume just for myself, so I’m afraid last night was no exception as I was doing my usual testing. Same story for today, but at least I chose a scent that seemed to be more up my alley and bound to be enjoyable. Thus far, it has been. You will have to wait to see what it turns out to be, but an early hint: it features patchouli. (Yes, I know, I’m quite obsessed these days in my hunt for the perfect patchouli. And no, my patchouli series is not actually over. You’ve only had a temporary reprieve from my madness….)

Question 2. I haven’t really had a conventional Christmas Eve or Christmas Day thus far. For one thing, there has always a bit of a tug-and-pull in my family when it comes to which day to celebrate. My family has traditionally followed the European habit of doing things on Christmas Eve, including the feast and the opening of presents. I’ve always objected to that, and I’ve stuck pretty adamantly to my rule of leaving everything for Christmas Day itself. This year, everything got even more screwed up because of a sibling’s schedule, so we had our “Christmas Eve” celebrations last Saturday. Since I can be quite stubborn, I refused to open my presents, which resulted in much eye-rolling and resigned sighs from my family.

So, today, the Hairy German and I had an early, mini-Christmas of sorts with my parents. In a short while, we will have a small, casual lunch, picnic style. There will be tons of French cheeses for me, several types of bread, soups, smoked salmon, mini-quiches, dim sum, sushi (yes, I have a thing about Asian food), Japanese seaweed salad, gourmet pizza, lamb shanks, and other tidbits.

The Hairy German on "his" bed with his badly chewn Santa.

The Hairy German on “his” bed with his Santa.

Question 3. Some of my favorite gifts were German shepherd related! (Deutsche Schäferhund für das Leben. I would say “uber alles,” but that has negative connotations.) You should see the GSD puppy calendar in particular! The photos are so adorable, you have no idea.

I also received a few culinary and gastronomy items, from books, to special bags of Jamaican Blue Mountain coffee from one of my best friends who reserves them months in advance. The beans are only grown on a particular stretch of mountains in Jamaica, and their classification as “Blue Mountain” is sharply regulated. Blue Mountain has developed the reputation of being one of the best and most expensive coffees in the world. Rumour has it that the price is sky-high mostly because all the Russian oligarchs buy it up en masse, but that sounds dubious to me. Wikipedia claims instead that 80% of the beans are exported to Japan, so clearly, limited availability of some kind is the responsible for the hype. (Wikipedia also adds that  [i]n addition to its use for brewed coffee, the beans are the flavor base of Tia Maria coffee liqueur.”) In this case, I think much of the hype is well-deserved as it really is fantastic, deep, dark coffee, and I’m lucky that my coffee-addict friend always sends me some as part of my Christmas box.

Some of the GTPC's offerings via roadfood.com

Some of the GTPC’s offerings via roadfood.com

This same friend also sends me every year two pies from the famous Grand Traverse Pie Company, which are freshly made in Michigan and arrive the very next day. My enormous box came on Christmas Eve via over-night Fed Ex delivery, and consisted of two huge pies that are 9-inches deep. This year, I received: Holiday Hill pure Rhubarb, and Opera House blueberry-peach. I’ve eaten a lot of pies in my life, and outside of the French tarte tartin, I’ve never tasted anything quite like the creations of Grand Traverse Pie Company. If you ever want to send someone food as a gift, I really recommend them. They have the most enormous range of items, from pecan to chocolate pies, cheesecakes, brownies and more. Plus, the items are so carefully packaged and so deeply insulated, they arrive in pristine condition and the result is a pie as fresh as if you had just ordered it in Michigan yourself.

In terms of perfume, I received some books on the subject, but no actual scents. I can’t decide if my family thinks I have too many fragrances, or if they simply don’t dare buy me any. Since I’ve left numerous broad hints about my wish list, I suspect it’s the former. But I did receive money, so perhaps it’s the latter. I doubt I’m the easiest person to shop for when it comes to perfume.

So, that has been my Christmas thus far. Tell me about yours!

Holiday Travelogue – Part III: Paris Food, Cheese & Chocolate Delights

Alexandre III bridge, Paris. Source: wallpaperscraft.com

Alexandre III bridge, Paris. Source: wallpaperscraft.com

For all that the French are respected for their perfumes, they are perhaps even more known for their food. It is something that is an inherent part of their way of life, beyond just the rarefied, perhaps more sophisticated confines of Paris. Food permeates every part of the French life and cultural psyche, be it a truck driver in Normandie or a wealthy housewife in Cannes. It’s no different in Paris, though the breadth, nature and diversity of the offerings may be slightly greater.

As someone whose primary passion in life is food and gastronomy instead of perfume, Paris was a visual bonanza, as much as any actual one. From the beauty of the windows at the competing, rival houses of Ladurée and Pierre Hermé, to the bounty of an extremely small, ordinary food market, to elaborate haute cuisine menus from the “Chef of the Century, Joel Robuchon, or simple oyster displays at a local restaurant, Paris is truly “a moveable feast” for the eyes.

Luckily, I got to actually eat a few things, too, particularly my beloved French cheese. As regular readers of the blog will know, I have an incredible passion — nay, an obsession, in fact — with that particular French speciality. And I was utterly spoiled in Paris — a situation which was sharply borne home to me upon my return to America. A recent attempt to get 10 favorite French cheeses at a very high-end store here resulted in my being told that 8 of them were illegal in this country, and could not be imported in due to FDA rules. (My feelings on that subject are as bitter as my feelings on IFRA/EU restrictions.)

Ladurée via Wikicommons.

Ladurée. Photo via Wikicommons.

You know that famous, old saying, “We’ll always have Paris”? Well, I’ll always have my photos. So, without further ado, let’s have some food porn. (For non-Americans, the term refers to a visual feast of photos highlighting deliciously tempting food.) First up, chocolates. As some of you know, the two big rival houses are the very old, established Ladurée which dates back to 1862, and the newer star of the macaron scene, Pierre Hermé. Macarons (which are not the same as macaroons) consist of a double-decker of two thin, pastry (or cookie) shells which are stuffed in-between with a creamy ganache filling. According to Wikipedia‘s entry for the company, Ladurée is the one who first invented this structure in the 1930s.

While some swear that Ladurée makes the best macarons (and chocolates) in the world, others vehemently insist that it is really Pierre Hermé, who Vogue once called “the Picasso of pastry.” Wikipedia explains his significance and background much more succinctly than I could manage:

Pierre Hermé macarons are airy cookies of egg-white and almond chair, sandwiching a cream filling. Perhaps his most famous is the Ispahan, made with rose, lychee, and raspberry; he likened it as their “Chanel suit” — the one they sell the most.[1] [¶] Hermé’s chocolates are also renowned. His chocolate cake made it on The Observer‘s “50 best things to eat in the world” list in 2009.[2]

His cooking philosophy: He prefers discreet pastry decors and “uses sugar like salt, in other words, as a seasoning to heighten other shades of flavor.”[3] He often makes daring use of savory ingredients in his desserts: traces of balsamic vinegar, Parmesan or olives in his cakes and layered dessert creams; he has even used grilled corn in a cake. […]

Pierre Hermé began his career at the age of 14 as an apprentice in Paris with the acclaimed pâtissier Gaston Lenôtre, who Hermé says is his greatest influence. At age 24, he became the pastry chef at the fine food merchant Fauchon, where he remained for 11 years. […] Pierre Hermé was the youngest person ever to be named France’s Pastry Chef of the Year, and is also the only pastry chef to have been decorated as a Chevalier of Arts and Letters.

I went to both Ladurée and Pierre Hermé, at various different locations, and my vote goes to the latter. Pierre Hermé’s macaron shells were truly like air, while Ladurée’s were thick, chewy, and incredibly dense. The ganache filling inside also was more intensely flavourful at Pierre Hermé, though only by a hair. However, Ladurée wins hands down for the chic-est shops, all across Paris, inside and out, and with the best displays. The Pierre Hermé location near the l’Opera was dark like a cave, and I didn’t think much of the latticed tea boxes in the window. It was better at the St. Gérmain location where the window had cocoa beans presented as lollipops, but it still couldn’t quite compare to the elegance of the Ladurée displays. Speaking of that cocoa bean display, I got to stare at it quite a bit, as I had to consistently stand in long queues streaming out the door and onto the sidewalk merely in order to get into the store which is tiny, narrow, and smaller than some walk-in closets. Still, it was worth it for the sheer delight of his macarons! A photo comparison of the two brands:

Ladurée:

The window of the Ladurée store near the Place Vendome.

The window of the Ladurée store near the Place Vendome.

More of the full window.

More of the full window.

Ladurée chocolate cake.

Ladurée chocolate cake.

Inside the store.

Inside the store.

Some of the Ladurée macarons, with the green ones being pistachio if I remember properly and the light ones to the left having a passion fruit center.

Some of the Ladurée macarons, with the green ones being pistachio if I remember properly and the light ones to the left having a passion fruit center.

A Ladurée macaron cake.

A Ladurée macaron cake.

Ladurée chocolate boxes.

Ladurée chocolate boxes.

Now for Pierre Hermé:

Pierre Hermé window in St. Gérmain.

Pierre Hermé window in St. Gérmain.

Pierre H's Opera store window with teas, for which he is quite well-known.

Pierre H’s Opera store window with teas, for which he is quite well-known.

Inside Pierre Hermé's Opera location.

Inside Pierre Hermé’s Opera location.

Caramels and nougats in boxes and lightly chilled in a refridgerated section.

Caramels and nougats in boxes and lightly chilled in a refrigerated section.

Pierre Hermé chocolates at the St. Germain location.

Pierre Hermé chocolates at the St. Germain location.

While both stores feature plenty of “eye candy,” there were numerous shop windows or restaurant displays that also caught my eye. From street sweets on a cart near the Pompidou center, to a shop filled with things like violet candies, to the gorgeous sea food and the oyster menu of one restaurant which offered the high-end Gillardeau Especiales oysters that Neela Vermeire once mentioned in her interview as being her absolute favorite. My eye was also caught by the menu on the exterior wall of one bistro which featured quite a few of my favorite things, from rognons de veau (veal kidneys that are usually done in a red wine sauce) to tarte tatin (a thick, twice baked, hot, caramelized apple pie that is cooked upside down). Then, there was the adorable Jewish deli and bakery in Le Marais, the old Jewish quarter of Paris that is also home to a lot of Russians and Poles. Some of the photos in small thumbnails that you can click on to expand:

As some of you may remember from another holiday post, I spent most of my time in Paris staying with a friend from high school. She is one of my oldest friends, knows me and my tastes extremely well, and was an incredible host who practically greeted me with a large platter of cheese. It is hyperbole, but not all that far off the mark.

In addition to replenishing the cheese stock each and every day, she also made what was the single most delicious quiche I’ve ever had in my life. And that part is not hyperbole at all. As we stood talking in her kitchen, she casually whipped up — from scratch and with nary a look at a recipe — a cheese and ham quiche that was something so glistening, so huge, so bursting with flavour, and with such an enormously high, buttery, golden crust, that I’m actually swallowing my saliva as I write.

Emmanuelle's Cheese & Ham Quiche.

Emmanuelle’s Cheese & Ham Quiche.

I have decided that her savory delight was so remarkable that I have officially christened it as Emmanuelle’s Quiche, or Emma’s Ultimate Quiche. The photos do its magnificence no justice at all. The airy, smooth, fluffiness of the creamy egg mixture was infused with the somewhat sweet, incredibly nutty, aromatic, lightly salted flavours of Comté cheese. It’s a bit like really aged Emmenthal or Gruyère cheese, only stronger, nuttier, a bit sharper, and more distinctive. Mixed in were bits of salty, smoky ham from off the bone, and even more cream — all of which was then poured onto a flaky crust that was I suspect was laden with butter.

Emma's Ultimate Quiche.

Emma’s Ultimate Quiche.

That’s it. Nothing more. Incredibly simple, uncomplicated, and yet so bursting with flavour that I barely controlled myself from eating the entire, enormous pie. I tasted a lot of really good food on this trip, but Emma’s Ultimate Quiche remains one of my favorite dishes. It’s all about the quality of the ingredients, and while that is a clichéd mantra that every chef says, it’s very true. You also can’t beat the sheer intensity of genuine French cheeses, made and served in France itself. Their hardcore, heavy, intensely flavourful characteristics somehow get completely lost in translation, because I’m telling you, I had Port Salut cheese in Paris, and Port Salut last night for dinner here — and my version was like bland cardboard in comparison. Whatever they’re feeding those cows, goats, or sheep in France, I only wish they would do it here!

Joel R AtelierAt the other end of the culinary spectrum is Joel Robuchon, one of the most influential chefs in the 20th-century, and a god of High Gastronomy. He has 28 Michelin stars, the most of any chef in the world, and has mentored other famous culinary talents like Eric Ripert of the Michelin three-star Le Bernadin in New York, Gordon Ramsey (also three stars), and many others. His influence is enormous, his name legendary, and his chic Atelier de Joel Robuchon restaurants all around the world reflect an obsessive perfectionism over the smallest detail.

So, when I accidentally passed his Paris Atelier one afternoon, I stopped dead in my tracks. I certainly couldn’t just pop in for a bite to eat, not because it was 3:30 in the afternoon, but because one needs to make a reservation far in advance and, more significantly, a rather large wallet. So, I contented myself with photos of his menus, including his tasting menu. The €175 (or $250) price for the latter actually wasn’t bad at all (on the wonky relative scale of luxury restaurants), but my eyes did pop a little at a $100+ dish! Thumbnails below:

Though I didn’t manage to eat at Joel Robuchon, I did have haute Lebanese food one day. Neela Vermeire of Neela Vermeire Créations learnt that I would be in town, and kindly invited me to lunch at Rimal in the 17th arrondissement. From hummus, whipped into the airiest fluff and served with bits of schwarma meat, to livers cooked in a deliciously tangy, sweet, garlicky sauce, eggplant baba ghanooj, and more, it was enormously tasty. The thing is, the very stylish Ms. Vermeire is such incredibly fun, engaging, witty company, it was hard to really care much about the food.

She is not only as passionate, exuberant, outgoing, intense, and direct as she seems in person, she is actually a thousand time more so! I found myself laughing enormously at her refreshingly blunt opinions on various things, while also learning a lot from her astute insights into more serious matters as the state of affairs in France today, the political situation, and the people’s mood. She also had great sensitivity towards the current difficulties faced by people on all sides of the socio-economic equation, and I was genuinely impressed by her depth. What struck me, though, was that Ms. Vermeire seems to be the sort of person who would treat a street-sweeper and a king in precisely the same warm, forthright, candid, and genuinely sincere, interested manner. It’s a gift that not many people possess. But this is a post about food, and not about one of the coolest people in the perfume world, so here’s a little of the mezze-style delights that we had. Please excuse the impact of the shadows and sunlight hitting the plates through the restaurant window, as well as the occasional blurriness:

On a purely visual level, my favorite thing — hands down — was a tiny food market that I stumbled upon in Le Marais. From an artisanal producer of ciders, jams, and nutty treats, to bright glowing jewels of fresh fruit and berries, to a bounty of seasonal vegetables, and the slightly slimy denizens of the sea at the fishmonger — it was unbelievable fun! And that was before I got to the cheese stall! I’m afraid it deserves its own spotlight, without the limitations of expandable thumbnails, because…. Good God above! You really can’t imagine the range of offerings at this one, completely ordinary, market stall.

Paris Market Cheese and Cremerie

Paris Market Cheeses 1 Paris Market Cheeses 2 Paris Market Cheeses 3 Paris Market Cheeses 4 Paris Market Cheeses 5 Paris Market Cheese 2 Paris Market Cheese 3 Paris Market Cheese 4

Visual delights abounded at other stalls, too. At one stall, crimson groseilles or red currants gleamed in the light like Dorothy’s ruby slippers. At another, an incredibly tempting line-up of artisanal jams, alongside fresh nuts. Some expandable thumbnail photos below:

The fishmonger’s stall was much less appetizing to look at, though definitely eye-catching with his platters of octopus tentacles, slimy squid, expensive turbot fish, and the like.

I have quite a few more photos — of food I cooked myself, to dessert tartlets that made my mouth water — but I fear I’ve quite outstayed my welcome on this subject, and don’t want to bore you further. Thank you for all your patience with this exhaustive photo essay, and with the detour away from perfumery with the travelogue series as a whole. Lastly, if anything caught your eye, made you drool, or piqued your curiosity, do let me know. Food is always best when shared!

Holiday Travelogue – Part I: Camargue & Food

Happy Sunday! I thought we’d take a relaxing break from serious subjects with a little travelogue. Specifically, a detour into some of the culinary aspects of my recent holiday, with photos of the locale thrown in. I had originally planned to do this at the end of my article series on different Paris perfume houses and boutiques, but it seems that that is going to take quite a while, especially if I toss in mini-perfume reviews in some of them. So, I thought I would stagger out those articles, intersperse them with more traditional perfume reviews, and take an occasional detour in-between.

Since some of you think I’m torturing you with delayed, dangled promises of French food porn, I thought I should get straight to it with photos of the first part of my trip in Camargue, the region near the South of France and Provence. (If you missed that post and an outline of my trip, you can find the details here.) In a nutshell, however, I went to Camargue as part of a reunion hosted by two friends who were at university with me and who later married. Their guests were friends on both sides, many of whom they’d known going back to their respective childhood or high school years. All of us are sprawled out around the world, so it was a rare chance to catch up and reconnect. I spent time with a few people I’ve known since I was 12 years old! A few others I hadn’t seen in more than two decades, while others were completely new to me, and were a lot of fun to get to know. The main thing was for us just to spend time with each other, but my hosts are also serious foodies, so we were treated and spoiled with a few gastronomic delights. 

Some of the following photos are merely scenic, encompassing such things as the famous Camargue horses, the French cafés in that small town of Aigues-Mortes, as well as some of the shops, menus, the Provence lavender that always tortures me so, Savon de Marseilles, or various other things that caught my eye. The vast majority of the photos, however, show the actual food, with the main focus being on a big feast held on the beach one Sunday afternoon. 

A Garra Rufa fish pedicure. Photo: lovelincoln.co.uk

A Garra Ruffa fish pedicure. Photo: lovelincoln.co.uk

Then, there is something that I couldn’t resist taking photos of, namely, a fish pedicure I saw a husband and wife experiencing. Some of my friends later forced me into getting one with them, despite my screams at the horrific visuals involved. (I shudder all over again when I see my photos.) I admit it eventually became almost meditative and soothing; then again, I might have been in a slight fugue state at the thought of minuscule things eating at one’s flesh. Still, if you can imagine three guys and three girls basically shrieking their heads off at first, you’ll have a good sense of how that experience began. (Okay, I lie. One guy wasn’t shrieking at all, but that’s because it was his nutty idea to begin with!) If the photos below don’t put you off, there is a French blog post with pictures showing the exact place I went to in Aigues-Mortes, and showing the big smile on one chap’s face as he sticks his feet into the mini tank. You can also read up on the Garra Ruffa fish from Turkey (also called Doctor Fish), and why they’re the choice for this completely unusual way to get a pedicure. 

So, first up in terms of photos is the medieval town of Aigues-Mortes which dates back to Gallo-Roman times, and which later became significant during the Crusades. It is a tiny place fortified by a huge wall and with a tower at one end that served as a state prison, first for the Knights Templars when their star fell, and then as a prison for the protestant Huguenots. There is even a sign commemorating the 200th anniversary of the Huguenots’ liberation. Aigues-Mortes has charming cobbled stones and numerous quaint cafés, but it was the Camargue horsemen who really caught my eye. Some of the flavour of Aigue-Mortes in thumbnails that you can click to expand in a slideshow:

On the Saturday of my visit, there was an outdoor lunch at a café with a buffet selection of various things, including the best pizza I’ve had in eons. Everyone else agreed, too; it was unbelievable! There are no pictures of it simply because every time I tried to get near the damn platters, it was gobbled up by someone. There certainly was no time for something like a photo. This was dog-eat-dog by some seriously starved people in a wild frenzy! The pizza was wafer thin, with lots of cheese, and possibly a hint of basil. I can’t remember much else of what was on it simply because I barely got to eat it; the one small sliver I finally managed to get my hands on, I had to practically inhale lest someone grab it from my hands! There were also huge platters of roasted pork, beef, deliciously roasted potatoes with garlic, and assorted Mediterranean vegetable dishes.

Dalida.

Dalida.

I ignored much of the food that afternoon, perhaps because I became fascinated by the wild, crazy accordionist whose energy levels would have stunned — stunned! — the Energizer Bunny. His almost frenzied performance (which went up, and up, and UP in intensity, and which lasted for over 2 hours almost without a break) became the subject of intense discussion with some my friends. Several were convinced that he had to be on drugs because no human being could possibly be that way normally. All I know is that the man knew every Edith Piaf song every made and, more importantly for me, Dalida, whose music I grew up to and whom I still adore. (She was a huge global star, a sultry sexpot, the iconic equivalent of Maria Callas with the approachable warmth of Judy Garland, and someone with a very tragic life who died young. As a side note, I was overjoyed to hear that they’re now making a movie of her life!)

The famous black bulls and white horses of Camargue. Source: horsebackridingvacations.eu

The famous black bulls and white horses of Camargue. Source: horsebackridingvacations.eu

While the food that day was a blur, I definitely remember the time I was served “toro” with a very complicated crudité salad. I kept digging into it, looking for the tuna sashimi, and being utterly bewildered by what I was tasting. It took me a while to realise they didn’t mean “toro” as in sushi, but as in “taureau” or bull. The Camargue region is famous for its black bulls, so it was featured on the menu of a lot of places. One evening, a big haunch of it was carved up for the group and I must say, I wasn’t very enthused. It’s not only that I have a weird protective feeling about bulls stemming from my undoubtedly illogical perceptions of Spanish bull-fighting, but also, the texture was tough as hell. Perhaps it was some smoked version, I don’t know. You can see the photo, and take a guess. All I know is that Bull is not my cup of tea. I was much more impressed by the lamb we had one evening which was smoked under a giant glass dome.

Once the storm clouds blew in.

Once the storm clouds blew in.

The real pièce de resistance was the amazing feast we had on a secluded, hidden beach at St. Maries de la Mer, the capital of the Camargue region and a bus trip away from Aigues-Mortes. It began as a lovely sunny day, though as you may remember from photos in my prior post on Camargue, it didn’t quite end that way. But the food was spectacular. From a gigantic, whole tuna, and rough-style pork paté presented in a really eye-catching manner, to various sundry seafood delicacies, a variety of cold salads, another whole fish whose type I do not recall (but it was a white fish this time), an enormous bowl of Riz de Camargue (the special red rice which the region is known for), and some amazing desserts. If there is one regret I have from this trip is that I did not eat the mousse au chocolat, despite it being one of my favorite desserts, simply because I had eaten too much of the tuna. But when you see the photos, you will probably understand why.

Later that night, at a very casual dinner held elsewhere, there was more delicious food, this time primarily Italian in nature. Honestly, I was too overcome to do anything but take two half-hearted photographs of some of the desserts (shown at the end of the series up above). I couldn’t manage a single bite of anything! Generally, I don’t eat much to begin with, and I’d probably consumed more at that lunch on the beach than I normally do in a few days while at home. So I merely ordered a series of double expressos, and collapsed in an utterly bedraggled heap on a sofa in the corner. Most of my friends were similarly sleep-deprived and, in a few cases, continued to suffer a hang-over from the night before. (One just gave up and slept on his wife’s lap throughout the whole evening.) Four double expressos later, I finally managed to drag myself back to the hotel, where I packed for the departure the next day for Paris.

There, cheese markets and chocolate shops awaited me, along with the city’s glorious architecture, the sight of lovers kissing near museums, romantic cafés, bridges festooned with locks in a symbolic gesture of committed love, the elegant gardens of the Tuileries and the Louvre, and so much more. Many of those things are featured in Part II of this series, which is an ode to Paris and is already up. Part III will be devoted solely to the food, and should be posted in a few days.