Brooklyn...We Made It

After months of planning - OK not a lot of planning - more a case of a passing comment over a cheeky pinot one Friday night "New York for New Year?", our flights were booked by the following Monday lunchtime.  Kaboom.  It's just how my friend Aggie & I roll.  God I love us.

With Christmas behind us the time had come & it was now time to pack the case & head to the airport.

Not all went exactly to plan as unfortunately I'd picked up some crazy tummy bug that apparently wanted to travel overseas with me.  I won't go into any further detail other than to say it was the longest flight to Hong Kong I've ever had as most of it was spent with my elbows on the toilet seat and head in the bowl.  Not ideal, but I can only be grateful I have strong quads & could squat rather than kneel on the toilet floor.

On the positive side the flight from Hong Kong to New York was much better as I spent most of it in my seat.  Yay me.

Such a relief to finally arrive and first thing on the agenda, regardless of where we are in the world, is to dump the bags & hunt down a latte.  Brooklyn, our home for the next 10 days, was no different.

The latte from Hungry Ghost was deliciously creamy and really hit the spot.  Well that was Aggie's verdict anyway.  Unfortunately my tummy was still a little, shall I say, sensitive, after the tsunami and all, so I could only gaze longingly at her cup as she sipped away & dream about the latte I would have tomorrow.

We did go back the following day & with my tummy issues sorted this little lady had her latte & drank it too. x

Meme du Quercy

Heading from Paris to the Midi-Pyrenees the topic of conversation was food.  A total shock to most of you I'm sure.

We hadn't researched this region much at all and thought we'd deal with it when we got there.  I love how we roll.

Didn't take us long at all to work out le canard ruled this region. Duck dishes dominated menus wherever we went, to the point there was even a restaurant in Toulouse called Duck Me!  I'm not kidding.

Anyway the time had come to "duck up" if you like, and we waddled off to Meme du Quercy in Figeac to see what all the fuss was about.

We couldn't go past the cassoulet.  The photos don't do it justice as visually it's not a feast at all, however it was a different story come the taste buds.  There was so much flavour in this dish, the duck was cooked to perfection and fell off the bone, and there was even some pork in there for good measure giving it that extra kick.

This meal was filling and we were relieved we hadn't ordered the menu de jour as there was no way we could have fitted in dessert (practically unheard of) let alone an entree.

However we did make sure we had room for a coffee - an espresso today as a cafe creme may have tipped us over the edge.

Duck is not generally a dish I order as I find it quite rich, however if I was going to have duck anywhere in France I'm glad I tried it at Meme du Quercy.

Sorry Duck Me - it just wasn't meant to be. x

A ladies lunch...Toulouse

After being in a tiny village for a few days these ladies were itching to hit the big smoke. 

We decided to leave PP (our hire car) at home and take the train instead.

Getting on a train in regional France is a novelty for me, especially when it involves a treat at the other end (add a restaurant car on board and I'm in a spin).  A treat can be anything from a lunch to a little shopping spree.  Who am I kidding the two generally go hand in hand.

Today's destination...Toulouse.

Hanging out for our morning cafe creme we couldn't wait to disembark and hunt down somewhere for our first coffee of the day.

Marthe was a winner as the tables outside had our name all over them.  The coffee was good and as we sipped away in the sunshine, few words were exchanged as we just enjoyed the moment.

Fuelled up we were ready to explore.

The capital of the Midi-Pyrenees region, Toulouse had a really lovely energy  - busy, but relaxed.

We spent the morning wandering the back streets, ducking in and out of stores, enjoying the sunshine, and admiring the architecture.  Toulouse's nickname is la Ville Rose ("the Pink City") due to the pinkish terracotta bricks.

I absolutely fell in love with Rue Fermat.  It was my favourite hands down.

"Fish & chips" for lunch at Chez Jacques washed down with a lovely drop of Rose over much discussion about what we'd buy that afternoon.  There was a lot on the agenda.

What I really liked about this place was that is was full of locals and the waitress didn't speak a word of English.  I loved listening to snippets of conversation at the next tables, picking up words here and there, and pretending that these two aussie chicks were just part of the crowd.

Not a dish either of us would normally choose, especially in France, but we got there a little late and our choices were limited.  It was a large serving and the almonds in the coating on the fish was something I hadn't tried before.  Would I order it again?  Probably not, but the fries went down well. 

Time for one more cafe creme before we call it a day.  Let's be honest there's ALWAYS time for one more coffee.

As you can see from the line above Flowers Cafe is popular, and even though the service wasn't overly quick, the wait was worth it as the coffee was good.  We'd ordered an apple tart to share, as we're watching our weight (cough splutter!), but got this berry crumble instead.  We didn't let on that a mistake had been made as it was very tasty, and after all we had a train to catch in about 1/2 hour.   

There's nothing better than ending the day with some goodie bags, hence the smile on Aggie's face.

Mission accomplished.  We'd ticked all our boxes and it was time to board the train back to Figeac.  

Toot toot! x

Pastries as big as my head

Oh Cardaillac Boulangerie you had me at baguette but my adoration levels have soared with your pain au chocolat!

Will you have a look at the size of these bad boys?

Delicious sweet smells flooded the kitchen as we eagerly awaited these two monsters to heat up in the oven.  Once you've eaten a warm pain au chocolat there's no going back.

After what seemed like hours (I'm sure it was actually minutes) Aggie gave the all clear - they were ready.

I could barely get my mouth around the layers of pastry - of course I did - but again just trying to emphasise how big they actually were.  Each butter filled layer nearly burnt, but not quite, made my taste buds shimmy.  Oh mon dieu these pastries were cooked to perfection.  With each bite the chocolat oozed out into my mouth, and a couple of times dripped down my chin.  Didn't even bother to wipe it off as I thought I'd just save it for later.

I will leave you now as I ponder how I will ever eat another pain au chocolat from anywhere but the Cardaillac Boulangerie.  I suspect you've ruined me forever. x

The perfect baguette

The vote is in and experts have judged a little boulangerie in the village of Cardaillac as winner in the "Perfect Baguette" category.  

Congratulations!

OK the experts are Aggie and I, but don't let that put you off as we are true professionals in the field, having eaten a lot of baguettes over the years and all.

Cardaillac is a 2.5km walk from Fourmagnac - uphill on the way there and a downhill roll on the way back.  Just how we like it.

We'd been told this boulangerie was very good but to get there before noon as they sell out quickly.

This fitted in so well with our day as we'd breakfast at home, stop for a cafe creme at Le Chardon Cafe, grab a baguette and then head home.  Worked well until Le Chardon closed - we were shattered.  I'll leave it at that as it's still a little raw and I don't want to talk about it.

With the goods safely tucked away in the bag we headed back to Fourmagnac for a lovely lunch in our backyard.

Time for our picnic at the Lookout which is only a hop, skip and a jump up our driveway.

What a perfect day for it.  The sun's shining, the birds are singing, and as the church bell strikes 1pm it's time to pop that cork.

 Oh Cardalliac baguette you truly delivered.  The crunchiest of crusts with a lovely soft centre nearly made our eyes roll back in our heads, and knowing there'd be no belly ache afterwards just made us adore you even more.  

Each time we'd bite into the crust we'd get the giggles as the crunch seemed to echo, even above the noise of our neighbour's tractor in the distance.  We're not noisy eaters by any means, but the crust really was that crunchy!

The bar has been set and it's up there. x

The Fourmagnac farmhouse

It has taken about a week for us to start bonding with the farmhouse we're staying at in Fourmagnac.  This is really unlike us as generally we arrive and hit the ground running.

Feeling out of sorts on a holiday is not ideal and even now we're still unsure why we felt the way we did.  Thankfully we got our Swifty on and shook off our crappy moods, opened our eyes, and started to fully appreciate the beauty around us.  We fell in love with this charming 300 y.o. farmhouse nestled into the most amazing countryside, and came to think of the goats, sheep, horses and one very agile fox as our own.  Can't say the same for the bugs, and blowflies the size of small ponies, but we embraced to the best of our ability.

Our favourite place to hang out was at the Lookout, at the top of the driveway.  We'd sit here to eat, read, solve the big issues, or simply fall asleep in the sun.  Just follow the poppies up the road and you're there.

We're both not quite clear on what our lesson was that first week, but maybe it was simply to let go of expectations or run the risk of missing out on some really wonderful things right under your nose.

Lucky girls indeed. x

My personal chef

When travelling I never leave home without my own personal chef.  It's just how I roll these days.

Aggie loves to cook and I love to eat (actually we both love to eat) so it's a travelling match made in heaven.  

The morning ritual is Aggie in the kitchen slaving away over a hot stove (or oven as the case is at the moment - we have no stove top - long story) while I set up the "dining area".  

This morning's location - The Deck.

I suspect Aggie gets the raw end of the deal but trust me the above doesn't just happen.  Trading in my uggies for thongs, I trotted out to the backyard in my PJs to pick some fresh flowers (the choices were endless as our backyard is bigger than Texas), find an appropriate sized vase (none available so a glass it was) and drape our blankies stylishly over our chairs, well I felt I'd done a half day's work already.  Yep I was ready for food.

Menu de jour - bacon, egg, and cherry tomatoes on a bed of baguette slathered in butter.

The creaminess of the egg together with the burst of flavour as I bit into my first cherry tomato made my taste buds tingle with delight.  Oh chef, you've done it again.

After such a full-on morning it was time for an Earl Gray and a few more chapters.

Life really doesn't get much better than this. x