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Nestled between Monaco and the French-Italian border, Roquebrune Cap Martin is where the steep Alpes Maritimes tumble right into the Mediterranean Sea. Perched on three “shelves,” the town includes turquoise sea coves on the cape, staircases running in all directions, and a hilltop medieval village featuring one of Europe’s oldest olive trees. But all these features were secondary during my recent visit : I’d chosen the destination for the architectural gems that sit right along the coast.
Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m not the kind of person who spends her time swanning around a Relais & Châteaux junior suite in the complimentary bathrobe and slippers. And I almost never eat a 6-course meal for lunch… and dinner, at a Michelin-starred restaurant, on the same day.
Normally I don’t write much about restaurants, nor do I review restaurants here on the blog. So many people do that already, and frankly, reviewing restaurants means working when I want to just sit back and enjoy the food and wine. Like most people, I relish a relaxing experience in a restaurant, far from the madding social media crowd and photos.
You, like people all over the world, might be popping a bottle of bubbly tonight. My man David-Nicolas will probably pick up a bottle or two of his favorite brand of Champagne, Ruinart. But did you know that not all sparkling wines, or even Champagnes, are created equal ?
Buckwheat crêpes, or galettes in French, are a staple of any Parisian household with kids, big or small. They make a great lunch, filled with ham and cheese, or quickly-sautéed mushrooms, or with any other filling you might have on hand. But for a more soigné meal, did you know they can also be filled with a soufflé ?
Hot smoking ? Cold smoking ? Brining ? Huh ? When it comes to smoked salmon, sure – the best place to start is at home, IF you’ve got some space and a little time on your hands – that’s a big if ! So even though most busy Parisians buy their smoked salmon at the local supermarket, if they want a high-quality product, they don’t make it themselves : they know to head for the ‘burbs.
English-speaking foodies often ask me what the difference is between a pâté and a terrine. For many Parisians, the definitions are hazy at best - it’s what the French like to call the flou artistique or artistic blur. I only know how blurry it is to Parisians because I think I’ve asked at least one third of the city’s population this very question : what is the difference between a pâté and a terrine ?