Dutch Mojitos

After nearly two months mucking around Paris ‘Olly and I hit the cobble stones last night to celebrate the end of an ‘era’.

We were not only toasting the fact that I have lived on ‘Olly’s couch for 1/6^th of a year but also the fact that I have now taken the title for being ‘Olly’s longest residing guest…ever! Quite funny given I was only meant to be staying for about 2-3 weeks.

I have to confess though that there was a moment in the last 10 hours where I nearly delayed my departure.  It makes me laugh just thinking about it.

Our first stop last night was La Famille, a funky little cocktail bar in the 18^th.  We had convinced another friend of ‘Ol's, a lovely Canadian, to join us in our frivolity.  The bar specialises in funked up smoking mojitos.  They were delicious but also very potent and I felt the power of the first one quite quickly.  It was a sign of mischievous things to come but at that stage I wasn’t sure quite what.  That was until I briefly went downstairs and met Lucas - a very charming Dutchman.

Once he introduced me to his friends, I thought it was in their best interests to be introduced to mine.  I am glad I did.  

We stayed at La Famille until it closed and then the six of us went to another bar where Lucas thought he could sweet talk his way in….it didn’t work so we ended up at Glass.  Glass is a former brothel and is now a ‘trendy’ cocktail bar.  It was a bit odd and the drinks were not a scratch on the smoking mojitos but it was still fun and random.  We stayed until 5am and then thought it was probably time to drag ourselves home.

‘Ols and I woke up this morning with foul headaches but we had to make ourselves respectable for a brunch date with Kate’s parents who were visiting from Adelaide.

I also had to make myself respectable because I had a lunch date.  Yes, in my drunken state last night, I had agreed to a date and agreed to reconsider my departure date so I could go to a party with him tonight. 

Lunch was seriously good fun. I wanted to wait until after the date to work out if I should change my ticket.  I would have changed it had it not been Bastille Day tomorrow and absurdly high prices. 

Much to my dismay, I am on the Eurostar racing through the French countryside on my way to London.  

PDA - Yes or No?

Ok, it is blog time.  I am sitting on the TGV from Lausanne to Paris and this train cannot go fast enough.  I had to do a quick day trip to Lausanne to catch up with my client.  I raced over on Wednesday night as I was told I had a meeting at 10pm in addition to a full day of meetings on Thursday.   I was disappointed as I was missing out on a big dinner in Paris with ‘Olly and the others.  My train was late into Lausanne and I ended up missing the meeting.  I was then extra disappointed to learn in the morning that I didn’t actually miss a meeting because the numnut had said Wednesday instead of Thursday and PM instead of AM.  I could have gone to the dinner and caught the first train on Thursday morning.  Grr.

Anyway, the purpose of this little post is to pose the question: is it appropriate to drool all over your partner and make martian noises while licking each other’s face when sitting less than 60 cms away from your fellow train passengers? I think there is a simple answer: NO.

I have been forced to focus on a computer so I don’t have to look at the couple facing me.  I tried looking out the window but it didn’t work as the light puts their reflection on it. This trip is no less than 3.5 hours and I have been in a state of extreme uncomfortableness and suffering from a strong desire to vomit for the last 3 hours and 25 minutes.

I am pretty sure that the guy sitting to my left also feels the same way.  He started the journey trying to write a wedding speech for his best friend.  He has since stopped that to play games on his iphone – a screen which he has very close to his face.

I don’t think there is anything wrong with a bit of PDA - I have definitely succumbed to the power of beer goggles on a big night out but seriously, there is a limit especially when unsuspecting members of the public cannot escape. The only thing separating us is the thin screen of my new macbook pro – and it is thin!

I watched a movie at the start – that took up nearly two hours.  I have also been using my noise cancelling headphones – they have been a gift from the train gods.  I have a song on repeat just to try and help me work through this - Happy (feat Derick Martin) by C2C. Its main line is: you will never feel happy until you try.  I am trying Derick, I am trying!

I have to say that the guy is worse than the girl.  He has been making these ridiculous faces and doing weird shit to her for the whole trip.  They also talk to each other like they suffer speech impediments.

Other than my current state of pain, I had a great day in Lausanne.  I woke up to a view of the lake before spending the day with my client. We went out to lunch and horse was on the menu.  I thought about it for less than a split second and opted for the beef instead. Well…I think it was beef.   

Last Day of Class

Today was my final cooking class at Lenotre.  It was a lemon meringue tart class with one of my favourite teachers Pierre.  Pierre is the one who nearly had heart failure when I burnt the butter cream a few weeks ago.  We have since forged a great prof-student relationship.  He even giggled at me when someone else nearly burnt the sugar in today's class.  Quelle honte!

I thoroughly enjoyed the class but was a touch sad that it was marking the end of a great period in Paris. I just wish I could be a chef at home and have a professional kitchen and more importantly a dishwashing person so I never had to clean up.

After class I trundled down the street (none other than the Champs Elysee) to meet 'Olly and a couple of her work friends, Spain-tan Kate and Cupcake queen Emma, for a picnic lunch in the Tuileries.  My contribution to the picnic was my freshly baked tart.

Eating a freshly baked lemon meringue tart in the Tuileries with a view of the Eiffel Tower, Arc de Triomphe and Musee de l'orangerie and with the Parisian sun shining brightly is truly indulgent and something to treasure.  Thanks girls!

Finished product!
A bit of mint to top it off

Fresh out of the oven

Lime pieces on top
to spice things up.

After a quick snap freeze.

Pastry perfection

Didn't quite make it to the park bench

Despite getting home late last night from Greece the Parisian summer sun woke me early and enticed me to go outdoors.  I dolled myself up in my new summer frock and sandals and walked up the hill to Gontran Cherrier's bakery to buy some croissants and brioche for breakfast. For those not in the know, Gontran is a young, trendy and highly celebrated pastry chef.  

During breakfast 'Olly had asked me what I wanted to do for the day - my only request was to hunt down a park bench My Little Paris had described as the best bench in Paris.  After reading their post late last week I was curious to see if this indeed was the best bench in Paris.  It is a fairly big call after all.  I also thought the 450 steps required to reach this bench would be some well needed exercise.  So after breakfast we set off - we marched past the Montmartre cemetery, up Rue Lepic and then on to Rue des Abbesses.  We didn't get any further.  Normally everything in Paris is closed on Sunday but because Montmartre is considered a tourist destination the shops are permitted to open.  This was quite bad for us as we were so swept up in the sales we didn't quite make it up the hill.  Not only that, the shopping made us hungry so we stopped off at Jeanne B, a great little restaurant on our way home.  We shared a delicious vegetable torte and asparagus lasagna with salad.  We were then brainwashed into having dessert - chocolate mouse with salted caramel butter and a white chocolate parfait.  Delicious!  We then rolled down the hill and watched the men's Wimbeldon grand final.  

I have to see this bench before I leave.  

My Little Paris describes it as follows:

On your right, a cobbled street leading to a vineyard.On your left, a little garden.Behind you, a glimpse of the Paris skyline.And right in front of you, the Sacré-Coeur.You are sitting on a bench. 

Here, there are no tyrannical pigeons, no kodaking tourists, no lovers kissing. That's because this bench has to be earned. First, you need to climb 450 steps. Then to haul yourself up onto Montmartre's shoulders, go round the right side of the Sacré-Coeur and walk along a park. And there it will be, lonesome and stoic. It will witness your daydreams and enable you to remember the sound of silence and the color of the sky. 

Don't worry, it's waiting for you.

The best bench in Paris is at the crossing of rue Saint-Vincent and rue de la Bonne, 75018 Paris


Details:

Gontran Cherrier
22 rue Coulaincourt - 75018
website: www.gontran-cherrier.com 

Jeanne B

61 rue Lepic - 75018

website: www.jeanne-b-comestibles.com

Greek Salad or Honey Balls? I chose Honey Balls

While most of my friends at home are making babies in their bellies, I am working on my fat belly.  It is really quite a concern especially given I have just spent the last week in a bikini in Greece.  I had hoped that the week away and the need to be basically naked on the beach to fit in would inspire me to eat a little less and more importantly eat a little more healthily.  'Olly and I departed France with this intention and we started our first meal in Crete by ordering salads and seafood; however, once our waiter introduced us to honey balls my life and my life's purpose changed.

I know that I have had honey balls before, a great friend and fabulous cook once prepared them at the end of a dinner party, but I recall being too full to really enjoy and truly appreciate their deliciousness.  My reintroduction in Crete was simply amazing.  'Olly and I hadn't even ordered them - our waiter thought that they would be a good idea along with some foul tasting clear liquor that I poured without discretion into my water glass.

Sadly however not one restaurant in Santorini or Mykonos managed to top our Crete experience.  I searched and searched and almost exhausted 'Olly with my quest.  I don't want to learn how to make them because I'd probably devour most of the batch once cooked but I would like to find another little restaurant that matches those in Crete.

BTW: Weight upon return was +2kg (in 8 days). Not a bad effort.  

Crazy Donkey

The best thing about Santorini is not the view - despite its reputation; it is certainly not the beaches - Australia wins that contest hands down; it is the local beer Crazy Donkey made by the Santorini Brewing Company.  A Greek oenologist, a Serbian brewer, an English brewing enthusiast, and an American set up shop in 2011 and their creations have become so popular they cannot keep up with the local demand.

My favourite is Red Donkey, a fruity, full-bodied and richly coloured beer served in a champagne style bottle.  'Olly and I first encountered the chestnut hued bevvie at dinner two nights ago and today, after a 'hard' day of quad biking around the island, we had the fortune of stumbling across the local brewery.  There, we tasted the company's two other varieties: Yellow Donkey - a citrus and slightly bitter tasting pale ale; and, Crazy Donkey - the first and only IPL in Greece.

The beer is unpasteurised and unfiltered which means it must be stored in the fridge...or drunk quickly.  Given its limited supply no bottles have made it off the island just yet but I hope in the near future these mad beverages will make their way down under.