I Eat More Than You

Wednesday 02/09/09

 

Wake up early – getting back into the rhythm, have a quick breakfast, then head down to the train station and off to Ay. Get to Bollinger just in time, after being temporarily redirected by a blonde frenchie.

 

“excusez-moi madame, je cherche pour la maison Bollinger. Vous connaisez?”

“ah oui, viens avec moi, c’est pas loin”

 

Then she takes me into the town and proudly shows me the….boulanger.

 

Bollinger. Boulanger. Bollinger…must be my fucking accent.

 

Anyway, get there and am introduced to Mr Christian Dennis, a charming old fellow (speaks 4 languages, worked with champagne for 34 years, dressed immaculately, I think he is like senior PR dude for Bolli or something) who gives me a sweet tour including –

 

The fabled ‘Vielles Vignes’ (pre-phylloxera 100% pinot)

Madame Lily Bollinger’s House

A portion of the 3 miles of cellars that Bollinger owns, including the remuage station for the large format bottles.

The group tasting room with a 3d interactive map of Champagne, highlighting the Grand and Premier Cru villages

The private tasting room, where we sample the Special Cuvee, Grand Annee 2000 and the Rose.

 

I depart and catch the train on to Reims. Oh ps whilst waiting, a tgv speeds past me – you really don’t comprehend how quick these beasts go if you are just sitting on them. Have one whiz past your face however and its just a blur and a wall of sound…

 

There I get ridiculously lost trying to find my hotel (3*** this time, remarkably not much better however).

 

Once found I cruise the streets, sniffing out champagne. I find it in the form of a 96 Blanc de Blancs by Doyard, a small grower from Vertus. This is cuvee “Collection de l’An 1”, his best apparently. Can’t wait…

 

Do some shopping and some sightseeing, the town is fairly nondescript apart from various Champagne interests.

 

Dinner at ** Les Crayeres…

 

I don’t know how to say this politely, so FUCK ME…

 

AMAZING

 

From even before I arrive I am excited. My toes are tingling as the cab pulls up the drive. I peer through the windows into the enourmous kitchen and get goosebumps. As soon as I walk in the door, I am glad I dressed up. An old chateau, C18thc, 4**** hotel, mad old gilt and paintings and silver and everything. Plush carpets, tableclothes to the ground, everyone in suits, candles anfd silver and flowers everywhere. I mean the works. There is nothing like in oz.

 

2 degos and a la carte to choose from. I’d done my research and had pre-decided on the mega-dega (copyright BHP) ahead of time – it involves 10 courses and highlights a different champagne house each week. With each course, they select a different cuvee or vintage and give you a glass. In my research I had seen examples of Billecart and Heidesieck, both using special cuvees and old vintages. Of course, my luck being what it is, tonight they are offering a selection of Deutz wines. Balls. I don’t know much about them, but their NV is crap, so no way I’m going for that. Instead I opt for the Menu Tradition – 9 courses.

 

2 layer pissaladiere, with ham on one, basil cream and olive the other, cut at table with Japanese sushi knife

 

lobster, raw, topped with caviar, mustard gel with paprika and ras el hanout, crème fraiche log with chives and violets - yesssss

 

mackerel with radish, basil, fish nage jelly, Spanish onion, passionfruit seeds, redcurrants

 

cod with black truffle – I finally understand truffles and their appeal – soft and fragrant and awesome, not crunchy and lifeless (like so many of the crap WA ones I’ve had over the years, with crouts and a white bean with coconut and choc paste

 

onion ring with egg, smoked ham, meat, apple, white onion sweet and very tasty. The smear of paste down the plate is lame tho. Smoked ham is unnecessary – regular jambon please! The smokiness ends up dominating Vy Good tho

 

foie (too little) with some sort of fish en brochette, poor texture, with fig and fennel, soupy, avg – weakest of the night, but still interesting

 

I wait a while for my next course – deliberate or not, I am not complaining. I need a little break. I read for a while and gaze around. I feel so relaxed, so fucking happy…I must admit I nearly fall asleep. Never felt like this at a dining table in my life.

 

Next is veal with truffles, shallots, carrot, onglet and loin, rich n textural and delicious

 

05 comte w carrot julienne, carrot juice mixed into honey, mustard seeds, crisp flatbread. Amazingly good, best cheese dish I’ve ever eaten!

 

passionfruit soufflé with sweet almond paste, tropical fruit minestrone in shot glass w foam, coco and lime sorbet on a stick

 

only gripe of night – final dessert arrives whilst I am still eating this. Why???? Its fucking annoying. I notice it happens to the table next to me as well. Vy odd. Subsequently I don’t have time to consider my final dessert, delicious as it is – choc sauce poured over choc and salted caramel ice cream with a shell, some buttery notes as well. As you can see I don’t appreciate it at all

 

bread trolley, extra bread – brioche, rolls etc

 

champagne trolley – 95 bruno paillard cuvee nbu (non brut ultra) – also offering roederer nv, dom 00 and deutz rose.

 

p4 trolley – omg, absolutely amazing – pate de fruits, meringue w pistache, fig jam and cream in jar, apple tart, macaroon (rose de reims flavour w pamplemousse rose), raspberry and vanilla marshmallow, salted butter caramels, choc sable biscuits, choc truffle christamas trees.

 \

I drink - 1990 De Castellan ‘cuvee commodore’ (their top bottling), a small house from epernay. Banging. takes about 20 mins to open, and only lasts about 2 hrs, but amazing – grilled brioche with butter and cream, burnt almonds, honeyed loaves, honeysuckle. SWEEEET.

Sauterne glass – 99 sudiraut. Intense, evolved, complex, a little hot, burnt honey, confit orange, dried fig.

 

Other cool things –

 

Wine list – 80 pages, like a fucking book/encyclopaedia

English and French spoken by most of the staff, very clever

Tea service – infusion, teas, silver tray, strainer, pot, extra water, MORE P4 (nougat, almonds in choc, all wrapped in clear plastic like bon bons)

price??? – a la carte would’ve been about 170 euro, my dego is 185, the champagne dego is 225 without wine, 305 with…serious money, but I mean look around…this is a fucking restaurant. Carpet, gilt, paintings, magic auto-flushing toilets

Service – to observe the a la carte dishes eg duck being cut at table after being cut from pastry shell with hammer, then sliced and served onto plate kept hot on a silver covered burner….amazing.

Bill is quite a lot. Service is good, but not overly personable. However – this I feel has been the greatest dining experience of my life.

 

Am starting to feel like a whale. Lie on my bed for about an hour with out going to sleep…soooo much food….

Champagne

Tuesday 01/09/09

 

OMG its September already! Less than a week left!!

After freaking last night about train, I manage to purchase 4 tix in my wicked French, all sorted!!

 

Get off at Epernay, check straight in (to my first ever 1* hotel, 30euro a night, ooh baby), catch bus to mesnil-sur-oger.

 

Upon arrival I stroll the town and find CLOS DE MESNIL. 

Hahaha I sneak in over the fence and eat the grapes, pluck the leaves. Amazing. I then get escorted out by an old French guy…apparently I’m not supposed to be in there or something J Wine adventure of a lifetime.

 There are tiny champagne houses everywhere, some of them are just peoples houses, using the front room for tasting.

 

I have lunch at Restaurant le Mesnil.

In 1.5 hrs I manage to do the 5 course deg with a half bottle of claude cazal’s grand cu blanc de blancs.

Amuse of parmesan gougeres & blini w sardine parfait

Beef tartare with capers, olives, parsely, not much spice but smooth and elegant.

Next a shit vegetable and octopus tian (cold) with a pepper cracker and some basil.

Tuna on a olive oil and olive potato mash…decent, if slightly uninteresting.

Cheese – livarot, comte, roquefort, some mad goats thing from jura

Profiteroles with marc de champagne ice cream and choc sauce and wild mint

Bargain, elegant room, cheese trolley, slow but proper service (only 1 girl on the floor!)

 

Next to Salon (!!!!)

I Interrupt the director of Salon-Delamotte in a meeting (oops) and he shows me through to the ‘visitors entrance’. Must’ve missed the sign.

There a French hottie shows me around the cellars. Highlights -

An Aussie flag sits next to the French and European in honour of my visit J

We go through the cellar and see all the old stock, back to 1945

Tasting room – old labels

Upstairs at Aine Salon’s house, the founder of the house

Into the garden – biggest patch of salon grapes in mesnil

Then the tasting – 4 x delamotte wines plus 97 salon

Fucking rad

 

Finish up and wander around mesnil – chat to a local old fella, stroll thru vineyards

 

Back to hotel then out for din dins – only starred place in town is closed, so the next best is…table de kobus

 

Turns out to be pretty awesome.

 

I enjoy Jacques Selosse ‘initiale’ (at a steal) – first taste of selosse wines. All I can say is - try them now. They are amazing. This grand cru blancs de blancs offers fig, honey, treacle, daisys, almonds, then intensifies as the air gets into it – grilled bread and nuts. The texture really gets me tho…strange. Not at all elegant – must be deliberate? The initial attack is swept away by a burst of froth?? Then you are left with your mouth coated with flavour, like the beach after the tide recedes. Amazing.

 

I have a 4 course ‘menu decouverte’

 

Foie gras terrine with fruit laden brioche and a sweet apple compote. Above this is a salad of artichokes and tomato salsa. Yes the two elements are disparate, so I eat them separately. A strange dish, but I enjoy it nonetheless.

 

Then my main of ‘fleur de bar’ (bar cod in the shape of a flower). The fish is curled into a cylinder, then wrapped in a thin brik pastry shell, to resemble a flower. Inventive and preety, the fish is delicious, served on a bed of cocoa infused risotto (!)

 

Fromage frais (soft camembert thing) with line of olive tapenade and a vinegary salad. Strong and a little rich.

 

Shit cake thing at end – a stale tasting raspberry sponge, cream, kirsch cherries, meringue – it is utter balls.

 

So 3 out the 4 were cool, pity about the dessert.

 

Drag my belly home. These last few days are going to do me in….in the next 3 days I shall consume 10 michelin stars, taking  the total to 17 *** * ** ** ** *** *** **

Madrid & Toledo

Soooo....i can't really be bothered writing a whole lot about Madrid. It was hot. We ate preety poorly, most of the little restaurants that are actually open (the fine dining scene shuts down all through August while everyone goes on holiday) were fairly average.

Highlights included the Prado museum and going to Toledo (small town, former capital of Spain in the C15th). Here are some pictures to save me from writing....

Toledo castle

Lea upset that we are lost

sunset at the castle

ancient gate in toledo

Jamon being sliced to order (for me to eat :)

Churros from San Gines, awesome

The Royal Palace

Boquerones

The world's smallest bus

x

40 degrees and rising in Madrid

Friday 28/08/09

 

After breakfast I still feel like crap, I think I’m getting a cold. The hangover seems to have crossed space and time to plague me for as long as possible.

 

Lea arrives and we set out on foot to discover Madrid. Walk thru plaza mayor, 

 

discover an awesome market, lunch on boquerones and jamon iberico, 

then head to museo reina sofia.

Omg this bitch is huge. Picasso, miro, juan munoz, lots of modern Spanish and other European artists. These statues below are one of the standouts. We spend hours in here. Truly spectacular.

 

Dinner at a dodgy little bar in an area called Chueca, we go for a beer after but I feel like balls and we head home early.

The Hangover

Thursday 27/08/09

 

An absolute write off of a day.

 

Wake and feel quite bad. Scramble some breakfast and have some more beers and say farewell to everyone. Ryan and I attempt to go back to town and do some sightseeing but the heat and my hangover do not make friends. I crawl to the airport and doze, starting to feel really bad. Bump into Bec then get on plane, fall asleep.

 

Arrive Madrid and it takes forever to get the right tube stop, get lost, eventually find hotel. Shower gratefully and lie in bed, skipping my dinner at el chaflan due to the mother of all hangovers – 3 days drinking without rest finally catches up to me and wreaks its revenge. I pass out.

Tomato fighting

Wednesday 26/08/09

 

So I am fully aware that the bus to Bunyol leaves at 7am sharp. Yet I am (unsurprisingly) the last one on the bus, woken for the second time by a fone call screaming at me, then having to chase the fucking bus down the street.

 

Pass out on bus, wake up at bunyol (still drunk). No money of course, scab off ryan all day – we eat morcilla bocadillos and drink enourmous beers.

There ar like 40 000 people in this tiny village with tinuy streets, all centred around a giant greasy pole, topped with a huge leg of ham. The aim (of course), is to climb this ridiculous pole (ostensibly by standing on other people) and steal the ham from the top. It is impossible but everyone is drunk and has a go anyway.

 

Other funny things that happened whilst waiting for the giant tomato-filled trucks to arrive –

 

1. The urination incident.

I need to piss quite soon after arriving, however we have garnered prime position in the centre of the throng. There is no way out. I am trapped. And it is becoming uncomfortable. I am going crazy with the strain on my bladder. It is intense. Eventually I give in and do the only thing possible. I drain the last of my giant beer (in a giant plastic cup, a good 600ml), tuck it surreptiously under my t shirt, and relieve myself. Oh god it feels good. Yes, yes, yes…no – the cup isn’t big enough!!! Fuck. I accidentally piss on the person in front of me. Haha I say sorry, I spilt my beer. Oops.

I gingerly place cup on ground and sneak away.

I am forced to do this again later, and even inspire an American bloke we meet to do the same. He neglects to be as sneaky as me however, and draws disgusted comments from all and sundry.

 

2. The episode of the bald man.

This guy is like 40, English, a bogan, drunk and angry. Oh and he is like 6 foot and about 120 kg.

He is pushing people, grabbing girls, spilling everyone’s beer. I decide enough is enough. I am to free the people from this tyrant. I shall be their saviour. From the relative safety of 2 people behind him, I reach over, hold my half full beer 6 inches above his head, and look around questioningly to the stricken crowd.

Does he want it? I yell.

There is a responding yell of affirmation.

The die is cast.

I upend the amber nectar all over the fat bitches head, quickly disposing of my beer cup.

Ah\\ha.

He turns in wet dripping beery fury. Everyone is laughing.

He has no idea who to blame…so starts pushing everyone around him.

The crowd is exuberant though, and start to push back, quelling him into submission.

Mission accomplished.

 

Eventually a cry of “To-Ma-Tina!” goes up. The trucks push through the crowd and the world turns red. Insanity descends. I am up close and extremely personal with strangers. I have tomato in my ears, up my arse, in my mouth. I am coated from hair to toenails. I lose my new sunglasses, my dignity, my mind and all my friends. It is messy but fun

 

I get lost walking back to the bus as well, go the complete wrong way, STILL drunk and tired and smelly and red. I manage to nearly miss the bus back as well.

Pass out once home.

 

Awake fully convinced I’ve slept for like a whole day and missed the big party.

NO!

Feel better, but rectify that with a beer (and a loooong shower)

Head to the beach again, different bars.

 

At first once form a posse with a few and get uproariously drunk. Break camera. Fall over twice, stumble to next bar, a giant open air place, quite cool really. More beers, dancing, pick up a girl called Nicole (yes, I got her name this time, and double yes, she isn’t a dwarf!)

Ryan manges to get into a fight with the bouncers AND with some dodgy drug dealers he offended. Amazing. Plus he didn’t pick up hehe – letting the ball come onto the bat is judged the superior technique.