Toulouse Part 2 : We came, we bought books, we ate things

The other day, I mentioned the Sous-Chef’s and my penchant for long walks. (We also enjoy: eating candy on the seaside, carrying at least three colors of pens at once, inside jokes, thinking the same thing at the same time, and men who stuff their bras with Skittles.) I didn’t mention the habit we have picked up for spending at least three and sometimes more hours per day à table.

“What in blazes do you do for such a long time?” you may be asking yourself, especially if you frequently use the expression, “what in blazes,” in which case, I think we should be friends.

We talk.

We wander for hours, talking about random things, though, as the Sous-Chef pointed, out, our topics are not that wide in range.

“Does it bother you that we only ever talk about three things?” she asked. I was stunned at first, but then she enumerated them: 1) Writing, 2) What we’re currently doing, 3) Food. Of course, when 2) and 3) collide, it’s a gastronomical discussion frenzy (I shall leave 1) for a subsequent post).

In Toulouse, we started what has now become our tradition of several-hour-long meals, where we discuss anything and everything.

The first was at a restaurant called J-Go (famous, not surprisingly, for their gigot). While the meal was just fine (to be fair, neither of us ordered anything from the rotisserie, as it was hot out and lunchtime), the setting on a beautiful terrace surrounded by the famous red brick that had not yet faded into the background was amazing. We spent most of our time, in fact, talking about everything that was amazing, especially considering the fact that a mere three hours earlier, we had still been in Perpignan.

Over a three-hour long dinner at a restaurant called Le Gascon, from which I unfortunately have no pictures, we delved into writing for the first of many times. Over the course of this trip, the Sous-Chef and I have advanced leaps and bounds on our respective projects in fiction, for the most part because we’ve started playing a game of,  “What would INSERT CHARACTER HERE do?” I’ve never known my characters better.

We also ate a log of goat cheese apiece, on top of some salad, with some bacon. This is not hyperbole. I nearly died of cheese… I would do it all over again in a heartbeat… provided my heart continues to beat.

Another dinner was spent at a tapas bar, le P’tit Ballon, where over a glass of cava, we tried duck prosciutto, manchego cheese, and goose rillettes. If you ever have the opportunity to try goose rilletes, buy some, take them home, kick everyone out of your home, lock all the doors, and eat it… all alone. Then you may die happy… or watch Bones horizontally on the couch.

But perhaps the most memorable meal was at a tiny épicerie we stumbled upon one day while looking for our elusive bookstore street. Le 34 was adorable shop selling Toulouse violets, truffle mustard, homemade jam… a foodie dream, made all the better when we noticed that it also serves lunch in the afternoons. It was already closed by the time we arrived late in the afternoon, but we vowed to return, and so, the very next day, with the help of our trusty map (which we had since decided to use instead of searching blindly for things), we got a table for two and perused the selection of seasonal daily specials.

We started with two bottles of artisanal blueberry soda (delicious) as we looked. Three appetizers, three mains and three desserts made up the menu, and before long, we had each made our choices.

The Sous-Chef chose a tagine of lamb in a pastry crust. The warm, North African-influenced spice choices really made this one sing.

My sister, the Actress, long ago perfected the art of ordering appetizers for meals. This caught my eye immediately: a ricotta tartine with balsamic reduction and roasted vegetables. With a little side salad, it was divine.

Especially because, for once in my life, I decided to order dessert. Yes, something sweet.

The Sous-Chef and I split this gorgeous mint and white peach clafoutis with red currants and an almond tuille. I fell in love with the colors the moment I saw it… and we lucked out! We overheard the waitress telling the next table that there were only two left.

Le 34 Epicerie
34, rue Filatiers

Le P’tit Ballon
2, rue Pargaminières