I know I’ve been promising reports on the food in France, not to mention the healthy eating recipes but I’m zonked after a week of celebrating (?!?) turning 30, culminating in an until-all-hours party last night.
So instead, here are pix from the drool-inducing Cours Saleya market in Nice. This is how all markets should be – a riotously colourful offering of every type of fruit and veg you could imagine and more besides. I should really go to the trouble of writing about this but brain is porridge.
Planning holidays to the south of France at the moment and to get in the mood, I bought a headily ripe wedge of Brie de Meaux this morning. As a result, the car smells like an old man farted in it but it’s worth it. The Brie is at that stinky melting stage where you can just schmear it on crusty white bread and gorge.
I ate half of it. The other half is in the fridge. The husband will have my guts for garters when he comes home and catches the wanton stench of it (which will be at the end of our street, probably).
I had a quick look online for recipes involving brie but I’m not sure that anything beats the combo of brie and crusty French bread. Mind you, a turkey, brie and cranberry toasted sambo is pretty good too.
Incidentally, this site says Brie de Meaux goes perfectly with champagne, which would have made for a very decadent solo lunch had I known earlier.
Just finished reading an extraordinary essay by Rosecrans Baldwin, one of the founding editors of The Morning News. In it, he details a gluttonous, soused weekend in Paris, taking a few detours along the way to discuss cholesterol, bilingual children, conceptual art and the difference between a cocotte and culottes.
Good food writing should make the reader hungry and after savouring his article, I am ravenous and suddenly have a desperate need to go back to Paris, like I won’t be happy if I’m not on a plane there in the next 24 hours.