The second morning of my birthday outing, I had arranged to have coffee in my room. The tray was served by a cheerful French woman who thoroughly appreciated my enthusiasm for her service (if not my French).
Placed on the tray, besides a generous pot of steaming coffee, were a miniature bouquet of flowers and a croissant.
Totally content with life, I sat out on the deck, enjoying the fresh mountain air, greenery everywhere, sips of coffee, and bites of the buttery croissant.
Later, when I joined Expresso and Attenderella for their breakfast, I was just an observer. I simply could not eat one more bite.
For the rest of the day, we explored the area, walking in the forest while Expresso hunted for mushrooms. Poochi, the family dog, went crazy running in the woods. He loved bouncing up and down on the six inches of moss that cushioned the forest floor.
At some point, I left Attenderella and Expresso in the woods and walked back to the area where we’d parked, thoroughly enjoying the solitude of the beautiful mountains and green valleys. While I waited for them, I dug out my notebook and pen to make some notes.
We headed home knowing that we had one more meal—one last extravaganza—in store for us.
We had lunch in the small village of Nages near Lac de Laouzas. We feared that most restaurants might be closed, given that it was a French national holiday (the Day of the Dead). But Attenderella had the foresight to make a reservation.
The little village looked like a tourist ad for France.
We headed home knowing that we had one more meal—one last extravaganza—in store for us.
We had lunch in the small village of Nages near Lac de Laouzas. We feared that most restaurants might be closed, given that it was a French national holiday (the Day of the Dead). But Attenderella had the foresight to make a reservation.
The little village looked like a tourist ad for France.
The restaurant was packed. We were seated and waited over an hour before the first course arrived. However, that was not a problem because it allowed us to work up our appetites so we could enjoy the next round of eating.
For the main course, Expresso and Attenderella ordered two different versions of steak, while I chose souris d’agneau (lamb shank).
Lamb dishes in many variations are common on restaurant menus because of the number of sheep raised in the area.
Poochi, hoping to snag a piece of meat, put his head between his owners’ knees and waited patiently. (And yes, dogs are allowed in restaurants.)
Looking back, I realized that we explored an area only a few hours from our home in Montpellier. Given that France is the third largest country in Europe after Russia and Ukraine, I still have a lot of places to explore—and eat my way through!
The morning after our little outing, I screwed up my courage and stepped on the bathroom scale, expecting the worst and vowing to live on salads and soup for the week—maybe even the month. Imagine my surprise when the scale was down a pound. Truly, that makes no sense. But I’m happy to be the beneficiary of the French paradox.
James Beard said, “Food is our common ground, a universal experience.” Upon reflection, I see that eating frequently with others, especially my extended family members, has helped me adjust to my new home in France.
Eating and laughing together creates unforgettable experiences that bind us together. The mealtimes nourish body and soul.
As I remember Julia Child always saying as she sat down to eat one of her creations, “Bon appétit!” And good eating to you as well!