Another Food Blog

I went to Corsica on the ferry from Nice which takes about 3 hours on the fast boats. The trip did not go as planned, because the excursion I bought a ticket for didn´t exist, and the ferry went to Ile de Rousse instead of Calvi. However, I improvised by taking a train from the one to the other, taking in some fine scenery on the way.

Corsica is very mountainous, but has excellent beaches and charming little inlets and bays. It is famous for its seafood, especially swordfish. My photo shows some of it at a market stall in Ile de Rouuse.

I ate lunch at L´Abri Cotier in Calvi. The name refers to the scallop shell, but also means apricot. We were taken aback when the daily specials we ordered, swordfish and tuna, were unavailable. I pondered the lobster in its tank, but settled for sea-bream in a fennel sauce instead. It was brought to my table whole, then filleted for me (with not quite all of the bones removed). It was nice enough, as was the ´07 Clos Landry ¨gris¨ at 13.5 percent. On the trip and in Corsica itself, I tried some of the local beer, Pietra, and liked it a lot.

I decided to try Le Quai again, since I´d had such a good lunch there last time. I found afterwards that I´d ordered exactly the same meal that I had the last time, and enjoyed it just as much. I began with the courgette and aubergine fritters (completely delicious), and went on to the coley fillet with crushed potatoes and vegetables. Many of the places here lay out their fresh seafood on ice trays so that potential customers can see how fresh it is. They are justifiably proud of the quality of their fish, and Le Quai is no exception. The coley was undoubtedly from the morning´s catch.

The wine was (wait for it) a Provence rose, Domaine du Cabaret, and evoked memories of the movie. It was 12.5 percent and just right for the food. But this time I was too full for the cheese.

I never did find out what Lunel meant (name of restaurant); I must ask them next time I pass. Anyway, it was a late lunch (2.30) on the harbour at Nice, and something simple was called for. The wine was a Lou Castelas Provence rose (´07, 13 percent), and pretty adequate it proved to be for a hot day. My eyes lit up at the ´cheval´ burger, so I ordered it. It came not in any kind of bun, but more as steak hachee with a fried egg on top and salad and fries alongside. I asked for it medium, and so it came, moist and succulent. I was already a horse lover, but this confirmed it.

My dining companion did well, ordering a fruits de mer pizza with chili oil to put on. It had prawns, squid, mussels, baby octopus and shrimps, a langoustine, and maybe other stuff. Everything was tiny, but the effect was delicious. It was among the best pizzas I´ve tasted (I had a couple of small bites to test it).

Cafe Bay was a lot more crowded than it was when I photographed it next morning. At 9 pm it was full, and becoming more so. We dined outside, watching the occasional sleek tram glide past us. I did a quick table count and confirmed that rose wine is indeed now more popular than white. Offered three vaieties of Provence rose, I chose Chateau Fonscolombe ´07 at 12.5 percent, and liked it.

I ordered scampi with garlic tomatoes and persil. I had no idea what persil is, but I guessed correctly that there would be no washing powder on my plate. The prawns were lovely, and although there were only a few of them arranged at the corners of the plate with a bowl of rice in the middle, it was enough for me. I tried a bite of the veal a la creme, and thought that pretty good, too.

I´d never think of drinking before noon in Britain, except coffee and tea, of course, but the French tradition is different. One often sees people sitting at the outside tables whiling away time over a small beer or a pernod. On a hot day in Nice, if was pleasant to sit at a ´degustation´ bar in one of the many squares, and sip on a cool beer while admiring the elaborate clock and bell tower opposite.

The beer was an Amstel, served in 33cl glasses.

I´ve been staying at the Hotel Perouse in Nice. It´s right on the rocky cliff where the bay turns into the harbour, partly built into the rock face kitself. There´s a strange lift system that takes you right up through the cliff to floor one, and a second lift to take you up the the bedrooms. Breakfast is served in a lovely walled garden with lemon trees all around. It is an oasis of peace amid the general bustle of Nice, and seems home to several sparrows which are brave enough to dart among the guests, even alighting on the tables.

Breakfast itself is a French-style buffet, with baguettes, croissants and pains-chocolats, plus a selection of cheeses, an array of cold meats, choice of fruits and yoghurts, and hot dishes of scrambled egg and sausages. There´s a lot more besides, but a limit on how much I can eat at that time of day.

On the first day I tried a littlre of everything to see which I preferred. t turned out that I was happy enough with croissants and cheeses and a little scrambled egg alongside the most delicious coffee.

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There have been reports (including one in the Times) that sales of oranges in the UK are declining year by year because people find it too time-consuming to peel them, and generally make a mess of it anyway. I had this thought in mind as I bought an orange for my dessert, but first came the main course.

I made pita pockets again, but this time inside my hollowed out lightly-toasted pita bread pockets I put mushrooms and tomatoes. It was a big field mushroom chopped into three quarter inch pieces and lightly fried in olive oil, and the tomatoes once again were Vittoria cherry vine tomatoes – much tangier.

Then came the orange. My secret weapon is a piece of plastic acquired years ago from Sainsbury’s. I wouldn’t be without it. You push that notch into the eye of an orange and pull it around the circumference so that it makes a clean cut through the peel. I do this three times so I can remove six crescents of peel. The orange is then pulled apart in slices. When I’m having it without further preparation, as I did this time, I just halve these slices and put scoops of soy ice-cream on top. Delicious. It’s not time-consuming and there’s no mess. It’s amazing what a well-shaped piece of plastic can do. All praise to the person who thought this one up.

I have two bottles of Jacob Bernhardt sekt halbtrocken rosé to try sometime. The term “halbtrocken” means “half-dry,” and is used for wines with 9-18 gms of residual sugar. All of which means that it will be way too sweet for my tastes, as most German wines seem to be. It will be a pity because I like a good sparkling rosé, and although sekt is not as good as the methode traditionelle wines, it easily beats the “vin mousseux” variety. I suppose I could make it drier by eating it with something sweet. Which leads me to magical thoughts of English summer pudding…

It was almost an afterthought, but it was cool and pleasant on a humid evening and most outside tables in Cambridge were taken. The tiny Jinling offers mostly Chinese oriental dishes. We started with grilled meat dumplings with nicely soft pastry, and fried squid, nothing like the rubbery stuff that some places serve. This had excellent texture, batter, and just the right hint of spiciness.

Then I had chicken with cashew nuts in a yellow bean sauce. Again, it was beautifully done, and in such a quantity that I gave lots of it away. My fellow-diner ordered the special steamed sea bass. It was a huge fish which the staff helpfully took (mostly) off the bone. I tried a piece and thought it excellently soft and moist.

This was a good meal. From the small, nearly all French, wine list I chose a French chardonnay by default, and was delighted when it was switched, unasked, for a Coldridge Estate ’06 Aussie chardonnay (12.5 percent) which was not listed, but must have been far better than the French one could conceivably have been. This was a good choice of restaurant.