I dare say, the idyllic setting does not hold a bougie – candle – to the beauty and imagination of Chef Vincent Limouzin’s garden menu.
It goes down in history as the most romantic lunch in my entire life.
And before I could even spurt it out, Veuve Cliquot rose in hand and all, Mike said the exact same thing.
The entree (in France, the first course) du jour was almost too pretty to eat.
Almost.
Trust me, after snapping a few pics (Mike knows better than to even consider a TOUCH of the plate until properly documented for my next party) it was devoured swiftly.
Rilettes de Cabillaud – chopped codfish "paste" with orange and ginger, topped with lovely, salty sweet antipasti, balsamic cippolini onions and fresh herbs.
Heard at the next table as we were chewing – hush hush diplomats on muffled cellphones with Buenos Aires.
