This is one of those posts I’m writing weeks after the event happened. Not because I’ve been especially busy, but because I couldn’t think of a title.
Here are some of the options and the reasons they were rejected.
It’s a type of Revlon lipstick. Last thing I need is a load of beauty vloggers ending up here and slagging me off on YouTube.
Only really works if I’d had a bad time. Last thing I need is people clicking through thinking, “Ooh, I wonder why he hated Bordeaux?” then discovering I didn’t and thinking I’m a lying, click baiting twat.
Maybe if I’d gone to the town next to Bordeaux.
A result of Googling ‘Adjectives beginning with BO’. Borated 1. Definition: mixed or impregnated with borax. Borax, also known as sodium borate, sodium tetraborate, or disodium tetraborate, is an important boron compound, a mineral, and a salt of boric acid. Last thing I need is people thinking about what they want to impregnate with borax rather than reading the blog.
So, now you know how we ended up where we are.
“Bonjour, un table pour deux people, por favor.” I dazzled the Frenchman at the entrance of the restaurant.
“Do you have a reservation?” he replied.
“Sorry, could you say that in French.”
“Avez-vous une réservation?”
“No, I don’t.”
Fortunately they could fit us in for lunch. The waiter brought over a chalkboard with the menu. I could decipher the odd word here and there, for example, Risotto and Mojito.
“Can I tell you anything about the menu?” the waiter asked.
“No thanks, mon amis. I’ll take whatever the three in the middle are.”
The menu. How many French words do you know?
The starter was some sort of fish cake type affair. They were alright, bit of purple broccoli to go with them which really was a lot of fun!!!!!
Fish cake type things
“Can you explain Pavlov’s dogs theory?” The woman I was dining with asked.
“Of course.” I responded.
“Go on then.” She challenged.
“You know, dogs…”
“Well, when they get hungry… they’ll ring a bell… OH LOOK OUR MAINS ARE ALMOST HERE.” I looked towards the kitchen, stopped talking, and pretended to not be able to hear her until they arrived.
I had pork fillet, which was pinker than I’d normally cook myself, but it was delicious and caused me no bowel problems. The pepper sauce accompanying it was also surprisingly good – considering I don’t massively like peppers. See, ordering things from a menu you don’t understand can be a good thing.
For dessert we shared a fondant au chocolate which turned out to be a chocolate fondant!
4 boys out of five. Top lunching.
This was the meal I was most excited about. Having done my due diligence on the World Wide Web.
It was €48 euros for a five course meal and €22 for the wine pairing, or in British money £70.
We were sat at the counter so we could see the four (annoyingly young) chefs at work.
FULL DISCLAIMER. I can’t remember everything that was on every plate, and there was no menu, so I can’t check it. You’ll just have to believe me and my memory.
The first course was a tomato and caramel concoction and it was fantastic.
Tomato and caramel
The second course was barbecued squid with a coconut milk foam and something like chopped up barbecued seaweed. This was the dish of the night it was tres, tres bon.
The third course was the least memorable, a fish dish of some description so it doesn’t get a photo. The duck course and the fig dessert were both sublime.
This was one of the best meals I’ve ever eaten, and I’ve eaten quite a few meals. The only downside was the wine pairing, which was somewhat underwhelming, but it doesn’t matter because the food was parfait (parfait means perfect in French, there was no parfait that I can remember).
Five boys out of five.
I spotted a queue out the door of this place, which from my time in London can only mean one thing: TRENDY NEW POP-UP!!!!!
I rushed towards the masses, “coming through, food blogger!” I got to the front and was sat down just half an hour after arriving #influencer.
They only serve one thing here: steak frites with their ‘secret’ sauce. You get a walnut salad to start with, which is a waste of everyone’s time, then the beautifully cooked rib eye steak arrives. I don’t like talk of secret sauces as my imagination is too vivid for my own good, and although it looks pretty rank it was excellent.
Enjoyed with their house Bordeaux and a mountain of fries you can’t really go wrong.
“Congratulations on a successful pop-up,” I said to the waitress as I pad the bill.
She replied with something about 1962, but I didn’t understand her so just laughed until my card had been removed from the machine and I could leave.
Four boys out of five.