Drinkin'
This Mother's Day I will be ignoring obnoxious fluff like this, and cultivating my southern (belle) hosting chops with things like this and this and this.
Summer is definitely right around the corner here in Toulouse, and that means icy apéritifs on the terrace in the sweltering heat. I've been a Lillet-on-ice-with-a-perfectly-corkscrew'd-rind-of-orange-gal for a while, but since the discovery of bourbon a few years back, have been adding mint juleps to the mix, too. I'll never turn my nose up at a chilled rosé, either, and just yesterday picked up a bottle of a Corbières variety while we were in Narbonne.
Speaking of Narbonne, what a jewel of a small, southwestern city! The first time we visited - maybe 2008? - on our way to Gruissan, we ate in a brasserie along the canal, the main strip, and neither the food nor the scenery stood out to me. However, a few more recent trips - notably one Heritage day in 2012, when we visited the incredible Saint Just cathedral and came upon a vestige of the ancient Roman Via Domitia - have revealed those typically French pittoresque streets where inspired corner bistros open out onto tiny squares with stone fountains, shaded by olive trees and mamies watching over streets too narrow for a car to pass through, keeping an eye on everything from their balconies. And just a bit outside of town, this magnificent site, the Abbaye de Frontfroide.
Oh, and the wine! It may be too coarse for some palates, and not yet compare in finesse to its northern or Burgundian cousins, but Narbonne does proclaim itself the oldest grape-growing region of France, and some of its producers are gaining in popularity and respect both within and without France.
Summer is definitely right around the corner here in Toulouse, and that means icy apéritifs on the terrace in the sweltering heat. I've been a Lillet-on-ice-with-a-perfectly-corkscrew'd-rind-of-orange-gal for a while, but since the discovery of bourbon a few years back, have been adding mint juleps to the mix, too. I'll never turn my nose up at a chilled rosé, either, and just yesterday picked up a bottle of a Corbières variety while we were in Narbonne.
Speaking of Narbonne, what a jewel of a small, southwestern city! The first time we visited - maybe 2008? - on our way to Gruissan, we ate in a brasserie along the canal, the main strip, and neither the food nor the scenery stood out to me. However, a few more recent trips - notably one Heritage day in 2012, when we visited the incredible Saint Just cathedral and came upon a vestige of the ancient Roman Via Domitia - have revealed those typically French pittoresque streets where inspired corner bistros open out onto tiny squares with stone fountains, shaded by olive trees and mamies watching over streets too narrow for a car to pass through, keeping an eye on everything from their balconies. And just a bit outside of town, this magnificent site, the Abbaye de Frontfroide.
Oh, and the wine! It may be too coarse for some palates, and not yet compare in finesse to its northern or Burgundian cousins, but Narbonne does proclaim itself the oldest grape-growing region of France, and some of its producers are gaining in popularity and respect both within and without France.
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