Birthdays come and go; some you remember, some you don't, and there are some that stick out forever like a beacon.
My 45th birthday is one of those. It started on Friday evening, in great style. NG had organised dinner for me, my TWDB, C&A, and herself at the Hotel Verchant. My TWDB and I were to stay the night, as a gift from the hotel's directrice.
The hotel is such a friendly, cosy place, going there is not really like going to a hotel, but to a friend's house. Dinner was delicious. After champagne and nibbles, we sat down to a seafood bisque with fried spinach ravioli, then, to my delight, a main course of venison. I don't know the last time I had venison but it must be at least 30 years. I love the stuff - it's one of my favourite meats, but of course, not easy to get hold of, and pricey if you do! It was cooked to perfection, was lovely and tender and a real treat. I then had a cake with fizzing candles, made by the Pourcel brothers (or from the kitchen of, I suppose). It was fruity and yummy; not a sickly mousse in sight.
After dinner me mates had to drag themselves home while TWDB and I just had to totter up a spiral stone staircase and into a massive bedroom set in the stone 'dependences' of the manor house. King-sized bed, tip top quality trendy fittings, and a super shower. It's the first time I've stayed in such luxury, and I must say, it doesn't take long to get used to!
Breakfast was funny because I'm a bit of a stickler about how to make tea. Being British, an'all, I do like it made with boiling water, the tea already in the pot. In France, they are completely averse to making it like this, preferring to give you a pot of warmish water, the tea bag still in its little bag sitting coyly in a little bowl. When I tried to press home the importance of tea in pot first, I was told that for hygienic reasons, the staff didn't touch the tea bag. When you're going to frazzle the thing in 100°C water, I don't quite know what bugs they think could survive, and frankly, I'd rather have a decent pot of tea plus bugs than a pristine undrinkable pot of gnat's pee. The staff were so perplexed by my tea issue that they even called the directrice! I can only assume that I'm the first Brit who's passed that way and asked for a proper morning cuppa. They hadn't heard of English Breakfast either, just offering ever-lighter brews of the type Darjeeling, Ceylan, Earl Grey etc.
Still it was all lovely although I did wonder about the twisted nature of hotel designers who create beautiful bathroom/loos with trendy glass doors which fit so badly that the whole room can be entertained to the 'total loo experience'. Very intimidating it is.
We tore ourselves reluctantly away at noon, and went to have a light lunch because we were due for another culinary delight that evening - my actual birthday. My TWDB actually managed to book a table at the Jardin des Sens for that evening - something of a miracle, but he's that type of guy... so we were able to dress up again and head out for a second mega dinner in two days.
It's an amazing place, and if you ever get the chance to go there, jump at it. In some restaurants I taste the food and think to myself I could try to make it at home, but at the Jardin des Sens, it's all so exquisitely put together, with a myriad of tastes and senses that it's impossible to even guess at how it's done. We chose a menu 'des saveurs' which meant that we got several courses each based around a saveur - lobster, fish, duck. Each plate was a work of art, and we were speechless as the flavours revealed themselves as we ate. The service was superb - not overbearing or snooty, but efficient and friendly. The cheese trolley was of such quality it was hard not to run off with the whole thing, and the wine which was recommended (Mas Laval) was absolutely perfect.
I've never enjoyed such a luxurious decadent birthday, ever. It will go down in the annals of my history as the birthday that lasted two days, was marked by the kindness and generosity of my fab friends, and the knowledge that I do enjoy very much living it up in the lap of luxury.
Yep, I do!
Showing posts with label NG. Show all posts
Showing posts with label NG. Show all posts
Sunday, September 21, 2008
Sunday, July 13, 2008
Social Whirls
From sloth and sunbathing on Wednesday I went to a giddy social whirl on Thursday and Friday.
Thursday was the launch of the Lôdge St Germain near St Bauzille de Montmel. Normally I wouldn't be invited to such events mainly because they are aimed at investors. As I couldn't invest my way out of a paper bag I wouldn't even make it to the short-list of guests.
But, I do have contacts! Ha! Suddenly ears start pricking and notice is taken. Actually, my contacts are my buddies. They are not my buddies because they are contacts however. That is just a happy coincidence.
To get to the point, I was invited by my pal C because she has become the Marketing Director of the Lôdge. She got the job because I was sent an email asking if I knew anyone with experience in marketing and sent it to her, because she does. It arrived by the skin of its teeth because a choice for the post had been made, but when my delightful friend turned up, Choice N°1 became Runner Up and she got the job.
That was a couple of weeks ago, so naturally I was invited to the launch. And very impressive it was too. The Lôdge is set on a rise in some of the most stunning scenery in the region with a view of the Pic St Loup which is a dramatic escarpment with sheer drop on one side, rugged slope on the other. Olive groves, garrigue and vines lie before you, and there is an impression of immense space and peace.
The Lôdge itself is a huge stone former farm, with chapel. The idea is to turn it into a spa resort with suites and rooms dotted about the park. Each will be owned by someone and managed as a furnished rental by the Lôdge. So Thursday was designed to whet the appetite of potential investors and spread the word. If I had the dosh...
What was such fun was that I saw most of my pals there, so had a lovely evening chatting, drinking Pimms, wine and nibbling goodies from the beautiful buffet. There was no mad rush to the buffet, no stuffing food like they hadn't been fed in a month so it was obvious that the Lôdge attracts a very superior crowd. Frankly, I was almost as impressed by that as I was by the view!
On Friday evening I was present for NG's vernissage at the restaurant La Prose at the Hotel Mediterranée in la Grande Motte and saw a different bunch of pals. It's a really lovely place with a large restaurant that spills out onto a shady terrace and overlooks the pool. The paintings looked terrific and attracted a good crowd of people. We kept our strength up with the nibbles provided by the restaurant and wine from the Mas de Jon near Fontanes which was perfectly light and fruity. I was even quite brave and talked to people I didn't know. Heady stuff!
Thursday was the launch of the Lôdge St Germain near St Bauzille de Montmel. Normally I wouldn't be invited to such events mainly because they are aimed at investors. As I couldn't invest my way out of a paper bag I wouldn't even make it to the short-list of guests.
But, I do have contacts! Ha! Suddenly ears start pricking and notice is taken. Actually, my contacts are my buddies. They are not my buddies because they are contacts however. That is just a happy coincidence.
To get to the point, I was invited by my pal C because she has become the Marketing Director of the Lôdge. She got the job because I was sent an email asking if I knew anyone with experience in marketing and sent it to her, because she does. It arrived by the skin of its teeth because a choice for the post had been made, but when my delightful friend turned up, Choice N°1 became Runner Up and she got the job.
That was a couple of weeks ago, so naturally I was invited to the launch. And very impressive it was too. The Lôdge is set on a rise in some of the most stunning scenery in the region with a view of the Pic St Loup which is a dramatic escarpment with sheer drop on one side, rugged slope on the other. Olive groves, garrigue and vines lie before you, and there is an impression of immense space and peace.
The Lôdge itself is a huge stone former farm, with chapel. The idea is to turn it into a spa resort with suites and rooms dotted about the park. Each will be owned by someone and managed as a furnished rental by the Lôdge. So Thursday was designed to whet the appetite of potential investors and spread the word. If I had the dosh...
What was such fun was that I saw most of my pals there, so had a lovely evening chatting, drinking Pimms, wine and nibbling goodies from the beautiful buffet. There was no mad rush to the buffet, no stuffing food like they hadn't been fed in a month so it was obvious that the Lôdge attracts a very superior crowd. Frankly, I was almost as impressed by that as I was by the view!
On Friday evening I was present for NG's vernissage at the restaurant La Prose at the Hotel Mediterranée in la Grande Motte and saw a different bunch of pals. It's a really lovely place with a large restaurant that spills out onto a shady terrace and overlooks the pool. The paintings looked terrific and attracted a good crowd of people. We kept our strength up with the nibbles provided by the restaurant and wine from the Mas de Jon near Fontanes which was perfectly light and fruity. I was even quite brave and talked to people I didn't know. Heady stuff!
Monday, June 02, 2008
Chaos Theory Proved
Yesterday was NG's birthday and as her family seems to think that everyone else and their cat's birthday should be celebrated except hers - not even sending a pressie, for example, just a cheap little kiss by phone - I suggested she come and have a good old Sunday roast lunch with some of our pals and celebrate properly.
I dug out of her freezer a huge leg joint of pork WITH crackling (very unusual in France, that) that I'd put there for want of space in mine and rubbed the skin over with coarse sea salt, crushed fennel seeds and olive oil. It sat on a bed of onion to make a nice dark gravy. I also roasted some spuddies, and made Yorkshire puds (sky high, 4 eggs...) with greeny veg too.
Everyone arrived - 5 adults and 3 kiddies (mine were with their dad) and we set about feeding the younger ravening wolves. Once they were sorted, we could get on with the gravy. I didn't know I had a militant gravy foodie in the house. I had entrusted its creation to C because I had a senior moment and lost my nerve. I could have pulled myself together, but it was just easier to ask someone else, so I did, but I didn't realise that in the C&A household, gravy has a particular taste. Said taste was proving hard to achieve, to the point that Gravy 1 was ditched, and A took over for Mark II.
Meanwhile time was moving on, and our eldest guest was starting to pass out with hunger, and getting tetchy into the bargain. It was time to act, gravy or no gravy, so I got a plateful together, and the lone diner tucked in. It was quite like old school days with numerous sittings. Revived, the risk of a scene was averted, and I blessed the day microwaves were invented as I heated up this and that in preparation for the entry of Gravy 2.
As I'd forgotten the spuddies in the oven, they were well and truly roasted, but also deliciously crunchy and tasty. The crackling had crackled, and the meat was moist and tender. I had ditched the idea of the starter by this time, all efforts at gracious living totally pointless, it was more a question of let's get at it and enjoy it while it's still hot! So we just launched straight into the meat, accompanied by bottle n°4. Going with the flow was eased by the abundance of wine and matey atmosphere and though I say so myself, it was all delicious.
Pud was champagne and a boiled fruit cake made by C and her daughter on which I put some candles and a sparkler. There were sparklers for all, too which proved to be a risk too many, as one landed on the table and left a souvenir for all times of Birthday Lunch with Gravy 2. Proof of a good time, if you like.
C&A stayed after the departure of a happy NG, and we played a silly game based on the X-Factor show, which none of us watch, but which contained chocolate prizes, so the kids were keen to join in. We were really bad, and didn't care a jot.
So, my ineptitude faced with the making of gravy had many unforeseen consequences, but it was more eventful and fun dealing with the resulting chaos. Perfection is not always to be found in that which is perfect.
I dug out of her freezer a huge leg joint of pork WITH crackling (very unusual in France, that) that I'd put there for want of space in mine and rubbed the skin over with coarse sea salt, crushed fennel seeds and olive oil. It sat on a bed of onion to make a nice dark gravy. I also roasted some spuddies, and made Yorkshire puds (sky high, 4 eggs...) with greeny veg too.
Everyone arrived - 5 adults and 3 kiddies (mine were with their dad) and we set about feeding the younger ravening wolves. Once they were sorted, we could get on with the gravy. I didn't know I had a militant gravy foodie in the house. I had entrusted its creation to C because I had a senior moment and lost my nerve. I could have pulled myself together, but it was just easier to ask someone else, so I did, but I didn't realise that in the C&A household, gravy has a particular taste. Said taste was proving hard to achieve, to the point that Gravy 1 was ditched, and A took over for Mark II.
Meanwhile time was moving on, and our eldest guest was starting to pass out with hunger, and getting tetchy into the bargain. It was time to act, gravy or no gravy, so I got a plateful together, and the lone diner tucked in. It was quite like old school days with numerous sittings. Revived, the risk of a scene was averted, and I blessed the day microwaves were invented as I heated up this and that in preparation for the entry of Gravy 2.
As I'd forgotten the spuddies in the oven, they were well and truly roasted, but also deliciously crunchy and tasty. The crackling had crackled, and the meat was moist and tender. I had ditched the idea of the starter by this time, all efforts at gracious living totally pointless, it was more a question of let's get at it and enjoy it while it's still hot! So we just launched straight into the meat, accompanied by bottle n°4. Going with the flow was eased by the abundance of wine and matey atmosphere and though I say so myself, it was all delicious.
Pud was champagne and a boiled fruit cake made by C and her daughter on which I put some candles and a sparkler. There were sparklers for all, too which proved to be a risk too many, as one landed on the table and left a souvenir for all times of Birthday Lunch with Gravy 2. Proof of a good time, if you like.
C&A stayed after the departure of a happy NG, and we played a silly game based on the X-Factor show, which none of us watch, but which contained chocolate prizes, so the kids were keen to join in. We were really bad, and didn't care a jot.
So, my ineptitude faced with the making of gravy had many unforeseen consequences, but it was more eventful and fun dealing with the resulting chaos. Perfection is not always to be found in that which is perfect.
Sunday, June 03, 2007
Sup-planted
In my garden, where there was a ground-covering plant with Bordeaux-coloured flowers, there is now a patch of bare earth. Why, is a mystery.
It doesn't look like it was dug up, or scrabbled up by a dog. It was not left to rot nearby; it has disappeared. There is no evidence of someone hopping over the fence and stealing it. Anyway, it was just a plant - nothing special - and there are two others exactly the same, and three others with white flowers within a few centimetres which remain untouched.
I discovered the mystery this evening when I went out to water the garden after deciding that the three drops that fell this afternoon were not sufficient to water a flea pit let alone thirsty vegetables and Japanese grass.
It's been odd weather. Since we put the pool up, it's either been windy, rainy or intermittently pleasant. The boys managed to have a dip today, la Fête des Mères here in France, and I recorded it for posterity to show them having fun on June 3 in the pool! About time too; it's usually revving up for out and out totally annihilating heat by now.
My youngest had made me a beautiful (chunky) red and gold papier maché bracelet at school, and a lovely card, and my eldest drew me a picture with me looking very slim. NG also got a picture from my youngest, looking a bit less slim, which, fortunately, made her laugh, if a little ruefully. Out of the crayons of babes... as they say.
Lunch included some lettuce from the garden which, quite frankly tasted exactly the same as the stuff in the shops. I suppose my consolation is that it's organic, but I'm certainly not in paroxysms of euphoria over the exquisiteness of its delicate flavour.
I wonder if my plant-nicker will come after my veggies too. S/He/It missed the fat juicy strawberries (thanks to buckets of recent rain), so I'm left to wonder if a devastating virus just hit my plant and wiped it off the face of the earth leaving no traces, not even a spot of shaken earth.
Should I call in CSI?
It doesn't look like it was dug up, or scrabbled up by a dog. It was not left to rot nearby; it has disappeared. There is no evidence of someone hopping over the fence and stealing it. Anyway, it was just a plant - nothing special - and there are two others exactly the same, and three others with white flowers within a few centimetres which remain untouched.
I discovered the mystery this evening when I went out to water the garden after deciding that the three drops that fell this afternoon were not sufficient to water a flea pit let alone thirsty vegetables and Japanese grass.
It's been odd weather. Since we put the pool up, it's either been windy, rainy or intermittently pleasant. The boys managed to have a dip today, la Fête des Mères here in France, and I recorded it for posterity to show them having fun on June 3 in the pool! About time too; it's usually revving up for out and out totally annihilating heat by now.
My youngest had made me a beautiful (chunky) red and gold papier maché bracelet at school, and a lovely card, and my eldest drew me a picture with me looking very slim. NG also got a picture from my youngest, looking a bit less slim, which, fortunately, made her laugh, if a little ruefully. Out of the crayons of babes... as they say.
Lunch included some lettuce from the garden which, quite frankly tasted exactly the same as the stuff in the shops. I suppose my consolation is that it's organic, but I'm certainly not in paroxysms of euphoria over the exquisiteness of its delicate flavour.
I wonder if my plant-nicker will come after my veggies too. S/He/It missed the fat juicy strawberries (thanks to buckets of recent rain), so I'm left to wonder if a devastating virus just hit my plant and wiped it off the face of the earth leaving no traces, not even a spot of shaken earth.
Should I call in CSI?
Wednesday, May 30, 2007
Swimming Paddling Pool
We have seemingly nice neighbours, yet they do not invite my youngest to play in their paddling pool despite the fact that their child is forever playing with guns and other toys belonging to my youngest. Mean, I call it.NG was incensed, so when she espied a bargain paddling pool in Leroy Merlin, she called upon the cavalry (me) to set forth on an expedition across town to secure the booty. I tried calling first to see if they had any left, but the girl on the phone refused to pass me through saying there was already a long list of people waiting.
Monday was Pentecost. It was that funny sort of holiday that we are supposed to work to help the aged, but no one does instead preferring to add a minute a day to the rest of the year's work day. Untidy, it all is, but much umbrage is being taken by the unions over working a day and not getting paid. The word 'solidarity' is obviously a nimby word here.
Leroy Merlin was packed. The car park was packed. I've never seen it so full. Eventually I found a sort of space and we set off on our voyage of discovery, trolley in tow doing its own thing. NG tried not to look at such enticing sights as taps, tiles, baths, cupboard space, garden furniture and other delights. She used to do a lot of house renovating, and Leroy Merlin was her Mecca. I would have offered blinkers, had I had any handy...
After walking round the whole shop in pursuit of the pool, we found a chap up a ladder and asked him. He told us, merrily, that they'd sold out. Bugger, we thought, and left immediately looking neither to the right, nor to the left.
Back at the car, we wound our way out, and drove next door to Carrefour. There, not only did we find a pool, but it was cheaper, slightly, and had a special Pentecost 20% off! Ha!
Flushed with success, we took it back to maison NG, and that afternoon, I came with the boys and revolting friend to set it up. There was training video for the serially pool-setting-up-challenged, but it wasn't that difficult. The main problem seemed to be stopping the revolting friend from grinding the garden gravel into the bottom and puncturing the lining before we'd actually set it up. In the end I had to take everyone home because revolting friend was being a bugger, and setting my youngest into bugger mode too. It was too much, so I chucked them in front of the tele and told them to be quiet.
Later, I went back (alone) to see how things were coming along. It was much too cold to paddle, even. I don't know what's happened to global warming this week, but it's definitely doing it elsewhere! It's been freezing, with a charming northerly wind making us rush to re-patriate our winter woollies!
That was Monday. Today was slightly warmer, and the boys had their first real chance to try the pool. It has a diameter of 3 metres and is 70cm deep, so they can play in it safety but get other than their ankles wet. The blue inflated sausage around the top leaks air, naturally, but the pump is permanently attached, so can be put right at any time.
It's not quite what NG has been used to in the past, but it's great fun for the boys who don't need acres of water to enjoy themselves, and I think, quite prefer being able to walk about and splash each other with impunity.
I'll wait for it to warm up a bit before I dip my tootsies in!
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