My favorite spot for date night with Gregory is the wine bar. It’s a cozy, family owned place not too far from home that serves what I like to call, ‘French tapas’, a plate of morsels of deliciousness as opposed to the normal entrée, plat, dessert. And since we only have a plate of tapas to eat instead of a full meal, I don’t have to compete with a bunch of food for Gregory’s attention (trust me, it’s a problem).
We always start with an apéro (when in France and all), that means a glass of Champagne for me and a whisky for Gregory. Pierre-Edouard (the sommelier who owns the wine bar… I like to think of him as my spirit guide) knows we like to check out what we’re drinking so he leaves the bottles after he pours so we can investigate.
Sometimes Gregory discovers some new whisky to add to his whisky wish list (if he’s lucky this one might find its way under the Christmas tree), and I indulge in my bubbles. But only ever one glass, two, and I’m swinging from the chandeliers.
After l’apéro, one of my favorite parts of the evening occurs… Pierre-Edouard returns to ask me what kind of wine I would like. He is usually holding his newborn in one arm while his three year old hangs off of him until she spies her cat Balthazar and chases away (told you it was a family place). We begin to have a little back and forth about what I’m in the mood for… something light, but not Beaujolais light, and nothing as bold as a Côtes du Rhône. As always, he found me a perfect meet in the middle… a Bordeaux that made my heart aflutter.
Then comes plate of nibbles, it doesn’t look like much, but trust me it is so much, just the right much. There are always the same type of things, but what those things are change depending on the season. There’s a small sip of soup; during the summer it might be courgette, in the colder months maybe a potato or mushroom, but whichever it is, it’s always delicious. There are bitty toasts with delectable spreads on them, some local cheese, some sort of a tart or quiche, and slices of Serrano ham.
But my favorite part of the plate is this, le jambon à la truffe. It’s ham with truffles all up in its goodness. If little Michelin star angels made ham, this is the ham they would make. I always leave it for last and take the smallest bites possible, savoring every teeny-tiny morsel that I can. If I was ever in a last meal type scenario, this ham would make an appearance on the menu.
We stay for hours, sometimes even past closing depending on if Pierre-Edouard is in the mood for a whisky or not (he usually is) and I stare at the clock wondering how much time I have left before I turn into a pumpkin.
I wanted to take a photo of Gregory to preserve our date night memory, and this photo shows exactly how he feels about having his picture taken #notimpressed #crankypants #IwouldratherbewithMrLondon.
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