I have been back for a few weeks now, and have been finding it incredibly difficult to settle back to ‘real life’. Even more difficult has been coming to grips with the reality that I am not going to be having nice bread again, ever, until I get back to France. And cheese. And olives. Oh God, I think I need to have a little cry.
For now here is a photo presentation of the best – and the worse- eating experiences from my trip. Posts on Cal Pep in Barcelona and L'Os à Moelle in paris to follow, but for now, please enjoy the food porn…
My Italian addiction, the macchiato
For now here is a photo presentation of the best – and the worse- eating experiences from my trip. Posts on Cal Pep in Barcelona and L'Os à Moelle in paris to follow, but for now, please enjoy the food porn…
My Italian addiction, the macchiato
There were 2 contenders for the best pasta in Italy. Number 1 is the Pesto al Genovese, eaten in Manorola, a town in the Cinqe Terre. Fresh pesto with potato and zucchini. Simple. Beautiful.
Number 2 Pasta aglio Olio. Garlic, oil, parsley. That’s it. Simplicity at its best!
This was an awesome yoghurt and fruit salad in the Cinqe terre. For travellers, getting regular fruit and veg can sometimes be a problem. I had this 3 times while we there ;)
The best wine bar in the world. Cinqe Terre. Light lunch of Campari, anchovies from the local waters, and brushcetta. A perfect light meal before a leisurely stroll.
Crema Catalan, Cal Pep, Barcelona. I think I am in love.
The best whitebait I have ever had. Cal pep.
A typical lunch for us while in France. Roquefort, bread, olives.
Fantastic wheel of camembert that our hostess in Nice bought us. I don’t know exactly what it was but it was the BEST version I have ever had.
Our host in London, Chris, setting up the ‘barbeque’ in Hamstead Heath. It was 25C for a few days in a row, a heatwave was announced, all the Londoners were happy for a change and people everywhere descended upon the Heath to cook some sausages in disposable bbq packs bought from the supermarket. Somehow I think a little fire in grass in a park during summer would for never be allowed in Oz. Followed by a kick around. Lovely.
The worst. Number 1. Fonzies in Italy. Like Twisties, but bad
Number 2. Every French Onion soup we had in Paris. Seriously? My version is way better than this.
