No really. We actually ate our way through Europe. As we road-tripped from Paris to Munich (not doing that again), down through Italy's Lake Como to the Côte d'Azure at Menton and Villefranche sur mer, back up through Lyon to Paris, we ate, and ate, and ate. There's something about those fixed menus that entirely negate the not-so-meagre European portions. Everyone always says that American portion size is out of control, but I have never eaten so much as when I'm basically forced to order appetizers and dessert. Don't get me wrong, la mère et moi, we're not complaining. This is just a snippet of the wonders we were served.
Currywurst am Imbissstand, Bavaria
Ah Munich, where no one bats an eye at sausage and a beer for breakfast. While not for breakfast, this is currywurst on the way to see Neuschwannstein (wholly underwhelming), originally a Berliner specialty, now a staple throughout the country. Can't get it without the pommes though. Or a beer.
Truffle Ravioli, Focaccia, Caprese at Hostaria del Moro da Tony, Rome
Ok, so maybe it wasn't France, it was Italy where I fell in love with truffle. The Hostaria del Moro, or what all the American students from the John Cabot Rome campus in Trastavere lovingly refer to as Tony's, was a welcome respite for my wallet and my stomach. Couldn't even finish this dish, though I gave it a good shot. And did I mention the 8€ bottle of wine? I think I got out of there with all pictured plus free tiramisu (I think they felt sorry for me, eating alone on easter) for about 18€ tops.
Tonnarelli Cacio e Pepe, Panzirone, Rome
A little more on the touristy end on the Piazza Navona, Panzirone had just the view of the central fountain I was looking for after I escaped St. Peter's square and the Easter hoard. This tonnarelli cacio e pepe is a roman specialty of fresh pasta with goat cheese and cracked pepper. Absolutely melodious. More pricey after having to pay for water (one thing I will always love about Texas is my free water) on top of a crisp white, but worth it in the end.
Moules Frites, Le Napoléon, Biarritz
Non-descript bistro on some beach view square in Biarritz. Decent mussels and wine pairing. A bit touristy. But hey, mussels just look so cool.
Traditional Regional Dish, Chez Albert, Biarritz
Situated on the Fisherman's pier of Biarritz, Chez Albert serves cuisine native to the region that borders on Spanish cuisine. Though a Texas May is hot and sunny, apparently May on the Atlantic French is rainy and a bit cold. As the drizzle turned into a steady rain, I ducked in to the covered patio and took a seat. Only downside was the strange side glances the Russians sitting next to me kept flashing my way. I cannot for the life of me remember what this dish was called, but it was a fillet of what looked like grouper, or another oily fish, with an array of peppers, onions, and tomatoes. Just what I needed to deflect the rain, cold, and steely Russian glances.
Foie Gras, Bordeaux
Maybe I just need good foie gras, but I was unimpressed. What was billed to me as a buttery luxury was more of a sweet goo that does not compensate for my compromised morals.
Fried Seafood, Da Luigi, Bordeaux
Wandering the streets by myself, per usual, struggling to find the perfect dining mix of not too empty, not too crowded restaurants where a single diner can blend in with a glass of wine and a book, it was the smell of Da Luigi that stopped me in my tracks. I wandered a bit more (I just couldn't eat Italian food when there has got to be so much good French food around, right?) before I caved and found my way back to the Osteria where Luigi gave me a warm greeting in French, Italian, and English. The front was small, but chic; the menu short, but comprehensive to steer you away from the too common option paralysis. This dish was meant only as an appetizer, but again, the whole fixed menu thing, I always order too much, and it was plenty, and divine. America is known for frying things, but the light breading perfectly accented the fresh nautical haul.
Tantanmen, Fufu, Bordeaux
Though Austin's Ramen scene is not unknown, I would of course first try the cuisine japonaise in France. I'm not usually a soup person, but something about the weather and the two companions I met during the wine tour earlier in the day made me a little adventurous. Incredibly affordably priced. I'm not sure how Fufu compares to other Ramen sources, but I enjoyed my first dish and will assuredly be exploring Austin's own versions.
Salade Lyonaise, L'amphytrion, Lyon
Salade Lyonaise, or what I like to call, breakfast on a salad. Or the most perfect salad ever. Take your pick. This little bouchon featured a perfected traditional menu, but I believe the pinnacle is this salad. A poached egg, lardons (thick bacon), croutons, this version impressively added tomatoes, topped with a light aioli-esque mustard dressing that I have tried and failed to imitate. But try again I must. Or just buy a plane ticket back to Lyon.
Café gourmand, Au Pied de Cochon, Paris
I first went to Au Pied de Cochon about 4 years ago with two friends while traveling Europe as a birthday present from ma mère, and frankly, 4 years ago it was much better. While it was always a little kitschy, it has gone full tourist mode. Mutter had just arrived, freeing me from my solo trek across the continent. The BF got their specialty, the pigs foot, and despite the gargantuan meat thing that showed up on his plate, the edible portion was almost nonexistent. La mère got lamb, as always, and I got some steak thing with vegetables. Thoroughly average. But this meringue pig is just adorable.
La Perla, Paris
Truffle Risotto, La Perla, Paris
If there were any doubts in my love of truffle after my jaunt in Rome, this risotto wiped them out with tsunami force. Perfectly accented by prosecco, which became a motif of our trip, everything was subsequently compared to "that risotto in paris."There are no apt descriptors other than life-changing that can adequately approach how I felt about this risotto. I can't remember the price. I hardly remember the quartier. I can't remember what Mutter got, I was so absorbed in my truffle dreamscape, but by the pictures it looks amazing, too. Next trip to paris I will seek out this Italian escape immediately after the landing gear touches the ground.
Brezel und Bier, Englisher Garten, München
We just couldn't leave Munich without stopping at a traditional beer garden. More sunny in Juni than when I had last visited in fevrier, there was a traditional polka band in the Chinese tower in the German version of an English Garden. A little bit of culture there, no? The park was full of families and friends enjoying the sun, and beer, and food, and beer, and music, did I mention beer?
Arrabbiata, Truffle and Mushroom spaghetti, Bellagio, Lake Como
Still on my truffle kick, I had to order anything that said a la truffe. But the star of this meal was really the Arrabbiata my mother ordered. That tender and slightly pleasurable pain of spicy food is something I missed in European cuisine, but this dish adequately satisfied that craving. Or maybe it was the prosecco and the lakeside view. Let's go with the red pepper.
Bubbles, Monaco
After stumbling upon the changing of the guard at the Monegasque Royal Palace, we wandered the nearby streets. Again, I love my bubbles.
Mojito fraise, Monte Carlo
In a fortuitous turn of events, our bathing suits were still in my bag from the day before. Like we had in Menton, we pulled up a chair (or rather paid a hefty sum and Jules, our cabana boy, as maman liked to refer to the men who served our drinks, put up an umbrella for us) and ordered strawberry mojitos and watched the mega yachts come and go, brainstorming what on earth I'd have to do to rent one for just one week.
Fritto Misto de la Mer, Le Bistrot de la Rade, Villefranche sur mer
At a certain point, I stopped remembering the names of restaurants. But luckily we have Google maps! From the various pictures my mother and I sent to my dad, he said this bistrot looked like a movie set. Squeezed between the warm hued walls in an alley of the village, it felt like a movie set too. In the spirit of performance, my entrée felt like partaking in the conversation, too. His name is Claude. He was delicious.
Le Mékong, Villefranche sur mer
Ok, so I missed a photo of the food at this place. But I hope at this point you can take my word for it: it was spicy, and it was perfect. I had another craving for sriracha, unsurprisingly absent in French cuisine, but a sure thing at a this Vietnamese restaurant. When you're tired of boeuf and crème, this place will surely add a little variety.
Harmonie, La Taverne Provençale, Gourdon
Truite aux Amandes, La Taverne Provençale, Gourdon
It was this tavern that truly sparked my interest in whole fish after a friend's mom explained to me how to properly debone a fish. Nothing beats fresh fish. They even smile bigger. Side note: why do the french always peel their potatoes?
No comments:
Post a Comment