Nectar of the gods, I tell ya! Monoprix makes one that’s equally delish under the “daily monop” label. And not terribly easy to find outside of big cities. So far, I’ve only encountered it in Paris, Nice and Marseille. It’s fresh and so good you want to savor it like a fine wine (or in my case, chocolate milk). With every sip I take, I’m boggled by its deliciousness anew. I think there must be something in it like crack.
A friend of mine tried it when she was visiting France and is showing signs of a burgeoning addiction. Now when she calls me, her first question is “are you drinking that juice?” her voice thick with desire. She’s now planning to retire here, in part, I believe for this juice.
I am by no means a wine connoisseur. In fact, I never been a big wine fan. Until I met rose (with an accent over the “e” — someday I’m going to have to figure out how to do a accent grave on my computer). I always thought they were the white trash of wines, but boy was I wrong (well, either that, or I have white trash taste). They’re dry but refreshing. Light, but fuller bodied than white. They’re jush desilicious.
So far, this is my favorite. It’s hauntingly good. I find myself thinking about it at various points during the day, looking forward to the moment my lips touch its cold, dewy glass. And the best part is, it not only tastes ambrosial, it gets me drunk! I never want to be without it ever again.
Sun dried tomato/anchovy tapenade
I can’t vouch for all of them, since every recipe is different (and they often have different names such as bagnattou, or croistillade.” I’m in love with one at the Antibes Marche Provencal that has olives, sun dried tomatoes, basil, anchovies and god knows what else. They call theirs “bagnattou d’angele”, which seems apt.
Everytime I eat it, I’m surprised at how utterly freaking good it is. I find myself having it for dessert. Who knew something without chocolate in it could be so addictive?
I have yet to eat a chicken as perfect as those from a truck in France. I don’t know if it’s that the chickens are better, or fresher, or better prepared but dang, those are good chickens. Perfectly seasoned, moist, flavorful. I have sought tastier chickens all over the world and have yet to find one. Particular kudos to the hot guy and his pretty wife at the Vidauban market (not pictured here). The best of the best, IMHO.
Oreillettes de Languedoc
I happened upon these babies while waiting in line at Monoprix to pay for my Ulti jus d’oranges, pamplemousse et frambois. They’re one layer of pastry drizzled with lemon juice and sugar. I ate the entire box in an hour an am now planning to go to Nice first thing in the morning to stock up on more (I’d go right now, but it’s Sunday). I guess they’re a specialty of the Languedoc, which is making me consider moving there.
I always thought honey was honey. And lavender honey just sounds like so much BS. So when Gilli told me people travel from far and wide for this honey, I took it with a grain of salt (or pollen).
Well, over here they have honey degustations (the next gourmet preoccupation?) which I’m glad to take part in (hey, free food!). After tasting honey from across the land, I’ve come to revise my thinking. Honey is not honey, and this stuff is amazing!!! I wish I could describe what it is exactly that makes it taste above and beyond every other honey–a subtle hint of spicy-ness? The round, almost buttery depth of flavor? Yes, it’s a miracle honey. I think it probably cures illness and eliminates wrinkles when applied topically.
Holy shit! So this is what these things are supposed to taste like.
Filed under: best bets, expat in france, fine dining, food, dining, fine dining, french cuisine, france on a budget, Paris, pastry, patisserie, travel, travel humor, wine Tagged: | antibes marche provencal, daily monop, domaine ramatuelle 2010, food reviews, french markets, french product reviews, fruit juice, Lavender honey, Maison de miel, maison du miel, marche provencal, Oreillettes du Languedoc, Ramatuelle, roast chicken, roast chicken trucks, rose, tapenade, Ulti Fruit, Vidauban, vin