In New Orleans, food often means music, too.

During our recent visit in the Crescent City, we were given ample opportunity to taste New Orleans. I was pleased to discover food that’s truly unique, and completely unlike anywhere else. But don’t just take my word for it. In a recent interview, celebrity chef Anthony Bourdain chooses New Orleans as the top food destination in the USA.

The New Orleans CVB hosted our stay in town and they sent us off to sample a variety of cafes and restaurants. Others we either stumbled upon, or were recommended by random, friendly locals. In one case, we were simply intrigued by the long queue outside on a cold and rainy day. Some we liked, others less so. Here are our five favourites:

5. Cafe du Monde

Having coffee and beignets at Cafe du Monde is a must-try New Orleans experience. This iconic cafe is from 1862, open 24/7 and located in the French Market. You don’t come here for the extensive menu, in fact, the menu fits at the side of the serviette holder, and contains essentially one thing: beignet, a fried piece of dough, overflowing with powdered sugar. Beignets are served in orders of three – and luckily we were three, because one of these sweet dough squares is just enough. The coffee is plain black or cafe-au-lait, creamy New Orleans-style. No skimmed milk option here.

4. Mother’s

In an old brick building on Poydras Street, Mother’s is one of New Orleans’ most famous restaurants – and has been since they opened their doors in 1938. We were invited for breakfast here on our first morning in town.

The speciality, as you might have gleaned, is baked ham – world’s best, no less – so naturally we had to give it a go. Cat, the most non-veg of us was given the task of sampling this delicacy. She ate and ate, the little one, but still had heaps left on her plate. Alex had pancakes, and struggled with her portion as well. I had biscuits (the American version, similar to a scone) with scrambled eggs and the noted ham. Everything tasted very good, but we were a bit overwhelmed by the portions. Could be the jetlag, of course.

3. Cafe Maspero

Cafe Maspero is located on Decatur Street in the French Quarter, and this is where we were drawn to the queue outside. Maspero is very budget-friendly, which goes some way to account for its popularity, I expect. We sampled more typical New Orleans fare: a po-boy and a muffaletta filled with ham, salami and pastrami, a vegetarian’s nightmare if ever there was one. Fortunately, there was also a vegetarian Muffaletta on offer. All tasty. All huge.

With high, arched ceiling and tile floors, it felt like being in a cellar, very atmospheric. And as with many buildings in New Orleans, this one comes with a dramatic history: this was once an auction house for slaves, The Maspero Exchange.

2. The Court of Two Sisters

At The Court of Two Sisters, we were invited for a weekend jazz brunch. I loved the atmosphere here: a magical garden, very old world, very Creole – indoors and out, with soft jazz playing in the background. Sadly, it was too cold and rainy to be outside. The garden must be a perfect place to linger for hours over coffee.

Now, I’m not normally very keen on buffets. Heaping salads and fish and meat and cheeses together on one plate isn’t my idea of a nice meal – which means I have to go back and forth lots. Frankly, it’s a hassle.

However, this buffet was so interesting and full of colours and flavours that I didn’t mind one bit. Sweet, salt, healthy – the Court of Two Sisters serves everything. In addition to all the traditional breakfast dishes, there were Creole omelets, grillades and meats, chicken & andouille gumbo, grits, glazed sweet potatoes, turtle soup au cherry, fresh fruits, Bananas Foster, King cake and heaps more. And a boat loaded with sea food.

1. Remoulade

Remoulade is located on Bourbon Street. Must admit to feeling skeptical when I discovered that. After all, Bourbon Street is… well, Bourbon Street. Not the most child-friendly place to be on a Saturday night. But once inside, the seedy street was forgotten. Remoulade has a cosy, warm and glowing atmosphere, inviting people to chat (but not too loudly).

Remoulade is the informal little sister of the famous Arnaude’s right around the corner. A big thumbs up for service here. We had reservations for 7pm. Alex had visited plantations (post coming up) and didn’t make it back to town until nearly 8. Meanwhile, Cat and I took up a table, talking, playing Yahtzee and sharing a plate of yummy N’awlins Nachos. The place was crowded, so I would have expected the waiters to be a bit impatient with us, but instead we received top-notch service with just the right amount of attentiveness (too much is just as annoying as too little).

When she finally arrived, we ordered our mains. Alex had blackened catfish, served with potatoes and spices. Today, more than two months later, she still remembers the meal fondly. Cat went for a traditional cheeseburger and I had my first Jambalaya, with lovely prawns, chicken, andouille sausage, honey baked ham, vegetables and rice, spices and a delicious creole sauce. Portions were just the right size.

For dessert, I had bread pudding from Arnaud’s next door – filled with rum-soaked raisins, custard and warm whiskey sauce (Bourbon, of course). Alex chose fresh strawberries marinated in spices, lemon, red wine and port, with French vanilla ice cream. Cat only had the vanilla ice cream (that’s how she rolls). The verdict on all our desserts: Heavenly!

Do you like Cajun food? Do you have a favourite New Orleans restaurant?

Disclosure: In New Orleans, we were guests of New Orleans Conventions & Visitors Bureau. However, we’re free to write about anything we like, as always.

It’s Thursday, so do hop over to Travel Photo Thursday for more temptations.

A taste of New Orleans is a post from Sophie's World

Hello there, Alex here – again.

During my recent visit in gorgeous Umbria, we stopped off for lunch at Agriturismo Il Mandoleto – a farm with apartments and a restaurant near Perugia. It was hands down one of the best meals I’ve ever had.

We were greeted in a winter garden where we had appetizers: prosecco, anchovie sandwiches, prosciutto ham and pecorino cheese. Oh, the cheese…

At this Umbria agriturismo they grow their own vegetables and make their own pasta – which was delicious, by the way, and the portion just the right size.

Sadly for you, I was enjoying my food so much I forgot the cardinal rule of food blogging: Photograph EVERYTHING you eat! I can, however, show you a picture of the spread that awaited us when we arrived:

… and the adorable carver:

We were meant to tour of the estate, but because of the rain this was cancelled. I was a bit sad; it would have been fun to amble about the vegetable garden and seen some pasta making. All in all though, it was a truly delicious meal, the staff was extremely friendly, the surroundings beautiful – in short, a delightful experience. I’m using tons of adjectives on purpose here, because this place was just that good!

A big thumbs up for Agriturismo Il Mandoleto!

Disclosure: I was in Umbria as a guest of the Umbria Regional Tourism Board. However, as always, all thoughts and words are mine, all mine.

To get updates on Sophie’s World, including more of delicious Italy (like how to make chocolate) have a look at our Facebook page.

A taste of Italy: Umbria Agriturismo il Mandoleto is a post from Sophie's World

Hi everyone! Alex (the oldest daughter) here. In my humble opinion, one of the things lacking on this blog is food. Everyone loves food! Everyone likes to look at pictures of food. And everyone likes to read about food. Am I right or am I right?

This post is the first in A Taste of Italy, a series of Italian restaurant reviews, done over the course of my stay in Rome and Umbria for the TBU conference in April 2012.

First up is a small restaurant called Napoletano’s Italian style pizza and steakhouse New York City at Piazza della Rotonda. Apart from the unsuitable name – it’s neither reminicent of a steakhouse nor of NYC – this little place is quintessentially Italian. And you get a great view of the Pantheon (pictured above) while you eat.

The lunch menu, which is served until 7 pm (it seems you can’t have dinner before 8 pm in Italy), starts with a bruschetta topped with fresh pomodoro and ruccola. A choice of pasta or pizza as a main, and a drink (soft drinks, water or wine) sets you back 12 euros. Not too bad!

Margherita – the simple pizza

I chose the pizza margherita with a glass of red wine, as I always do when I have Italian pizza. A native Roman friend of mine told me that the best way to judge a restaurant in Italy is to have the margherita, as it’s so simple. Apparently, if you have lots of toppings on your pizza you can’t really taste it, whereas with a simple margherita you will know at once if this is good or bad pizza. This was definitely a good pizza.

The service was great, the price was unbeatable and the food heavenly. Add an amazing location and season with a couple of street musicians playing cheesy love songs – what’s not to like about this place?

Do you like Italian food? Silly question… of course you do!

A Taste of Italy: pizza in Rome is a post from Sophie's World

Faroe Islands: land of sagas

Have you been to the Faroe Islands? If not, maybe you have an idea of what you will find on these Viking isles? Perhaps you’re thinking steep green hills, wooden houses, grass roofs…? You would be right.

The photo above shows Kirkjubøargarður, once the home of a Viking king. The oldest part of the building is 1000 years old, so it’s actually one of the oldest inhabited wooden houses in the world. The Patursson family has lived here since 1557, now on the 17th generation.

Sagas abound in the Faroe Islands. Tórshavn, the tiny capital, is home to the world’s first parliament, established by Vikings in 850 CE. However, the islands are older than that. When the Norwegians stopped by for the first time in 795, they stumbled upon hermit Irish monks. The monks probably arrived in 625, hoping to find natives to save. No such luck! Instead, they occupied themselves with keeping sheep and growing oat. The monks are said to have moved on towards Iceland about the time the Norwegians came along.

So much for sagas. Perhaps more surprisingly, Tórshavn is also home to a fabulous sushi restaurant and some colourful street art.

Sushi in the Faroe Islands – North Atlantic fish meets Japan

Perhaps you thought the Faroese mostly ate puffin and whale meat? Not so.

With funky decor, location in the heart of Tórshavn, excellent food, and a sleek wine bar, Etika is a local highlight. As you might guess from the name, Etika is also an ethically and environmentally aware establishment, offering locally sourced fish and green gift items for sale. Freshly caught North Atlantic fish meets Japanese philosophy.

I’m hardly a raw fish connoisseur, but my daughters adore sushi above all else. During our three days in the Faroes, they visited Etika four times!

Faroe Islands public art

So you thought street art was a big city phenomenon? The 13 000 residents of Tórshavn might disagree. Here’s a small selection.

Torshavn

Faroe Islands: Sagas, sushi and street art is a post from Sophie's World

On this Cornwall Sunday, I’m going to share a fabulous hotel with you. It’s not going to be a hotel review as such. Not that there’s anything wrong with the facilities, they are more than adequate, but that’s not the main issue here.

What makes Jamaica Inn stand out is its interesting location and its history. Situated on Cornwall’s deliciously eerie Bodmin Moor (more on this spooky windswept moor in a later post), this is a coaching inn from 1750.

The girls and I had this wonderful place as our base for nearly a week while we explored Cornwall. We enjoyed every minute here and looked forward to ‘going home’ every night.

Have you read Jamaica Inn?

When I was a young girl, I devoured mysteries and thrillers. If they were set in another era, so much the better. Daphne du Maurier’s Jamaica Inn was a fave of my 12-year-old self.

The book is set in the early 1800s and revolves around a young girl, Mary Yellan, who is sent to live with her aunt after her parents die. Auntie turns out to be married to a cruel and murderous innkeeper, Joss Merlyn. Together with his blood-thirsty band of smugglers, Merlyn lures ships to shore with a fake beacon light, runs them aground, kills everyone on board and takes off with the loot.

Of course, the evil man gets his comeuppance. One day Mary finds him stabbed to death.

Odd then, that I had no idea the inn really existed. First when researching interesting and curious things we could do in Cornwall, did I come upon the real Jamaica Inn.

You might think the inn was named after the book (and later film and TV series), but it’s quite the contrary! The story goes that one day in the 1930s, Daphne du Maurier and friends got lost in bad weather riding on Bodmin Moor. The group let their horses lead them and ended up at Jamaica Inn where they stayed and heard all the stories – fertile grounds for anyone’s imagination.

Today, a turnpike road bisects the moor. Not so long ago, however, this was but a packhorse track and travellers arrived at Jamaica Inn on foot or on horse. In fact, the stables were converted to a bar as late as 1953. It is said travellers in the old days made out their wills before setting off across the treacherous moor. We, well, we just pulled off the A30 in our little hired Audi. (It’s with a touch of melancholy I note that.)

The A30 seen from room 10 at Jamaica Inn

Cornwall was always one of the poorer parts of Britain (still is) with an economy based on mining. The miners and their families lead hard lives with meager income. Smuggling was rife and the isolated Jamaica Inn was used as a stopover for smugglers as they brought their contraband from the ocean – both from Tintagel in the north and Polperro in the south – into Devon and onwards.

Of course, Bodmin Moor and Jamaica Inn are both overflowing with ghost stories: conversations heard in a foreign language (Ancient Cornish?) by people unseen, horses and carts are heard but not seen, footsteps in the corridors in the middle of the night, a man in old-fashioned clothes has been seen walking through walls, an old woman has been spotted in room 5…

Unfortunately, I hadn’t thought to request room 5 (note to self: better research beforehand). Others had, however. We read an enticing description in the guest book from a family who had stayed in the infamous room. The gist of the entry was that while two teenage daughters were out and about after hours, looking for ghosts, their younger brother was left alone in room 5. In the bathroom, getting ready for the night, the boy looked in the mirror – and saw an old woman standing behind him staring right at him.

The popular British TV programme Most Haunted featured Jamaica Inn in an episode and said it was one of the spookiest programmes they had ever recorded.

Like most of my fellow Scandinavians, I tend to treat questions of belief and superstition with a good dose of cynicism. However, I’m the first to admit history would probably be much less interesting without them.

A bit of Norwegian history here as well: the 100 kroner note pinned on the wall hasn’t been in use in 20 years.

The Smuggler’s Museum at Jamaica Inn

Jamaica Inn offers various ghostly events (have a look at ghost hunt events for 2012) and has an on site Smuggler’s Museum and shop. It is a business, after all.

Smugglers at night

One haunting exhibit is of a skull found 50 years ago in a cave under the foundations of an old house known to have been frequented by smugglers. Stores of spirits were found, as was the skeleton of a man in chains. Who was this man who had been left to die? A smuggler? Customs agent? Informant?

Why Jamaica Inn?

Rumour has it, the inn was named for Jamaican rum, smuggled into England and stored there. However, it appears reality is slightly less romantic, if no less Jamaican: a large landowning family in the area, the Trelawneys, had two family members serving as Governors of Jamaica in the 18th century.

You’d think a haunted hotel would have a resident cat. Not here. This friendly stray was from the tiny village Bolventor nearby and just stopped by whenever she felt like it.

The bar was stables until 1953

After hours, when the ghosts come out

Have you ever stayed in a haunted house or hotel?

Bodmin

Head to DeliciousBaby for more Friday photos.

Jamaica Inn is a post from Sophie's World

Cup cakes, in particular, seem to be popular. In the UK, National Cup Cake Week is 17 – 23 September and the USA has National Cup Cake Day on 15 December. In Australia, 15 August is RSPCA cup cake day, neatly combining cakes with good work.

Trouble is, none are anywhere near March. So I continued searching and discovered all sorts of peculiar food holidays. The USA alone has an entire calender of them. It seems every food has its own day, week or month. My favourite is National Something on a Stick Day. That’s later this month, on 28 March. But I digress.

Today – 4 March – is National Pound Cake Day. Close enough for my purpose.

Cornwall

In 2010, the girls and I explored Cornwall, an incredibly beautiful and mysterious part of Britain. Every Sunday for the next few months, I’ll post stories and photos from this independent-minded, ancient Celtic kingdom. If Cornwall is on your agenda this summer, even tentatively, I hope you’ll find a little inspiration here on Sophie’s World.

We’ll cover the deliciously spooky Bodmin Moor and Jamaica Inn, the quirky villages Looe and Polperro, We’ll have a look at surfers’ favourite Newquay, and a quick peek at Trerice Manor nearby. There will be a little something from Land’s End, Britain’s southernmost point. We’ll explore a little history, King Arthur in particular, including his mythical birthplace, the very real Tintagel Castle. Last, but certainly not least, my favourite spot in England and possible anywhere, is in Cornwall, the uber-gorgeous seaside village of Port Isaac.

But where’s Penzance, you ask? The Eden Project? Padstow? And the Isles of Scilly? Truth is, we ran out of time. Also, we have an excuse to return. As if we need one…

First out is Truro, Cornwall’s capital.

I’ll be honest, Truro isn’t what first pops to mind when I think back on our Cornish summer. We ambled along the river for a bit, we walked the square and the narrow cobbled streets. We had a look at the Georgian houses and the cathedral. And we shopped a little (Truro has some very good shops).

Shopping – not so exciting when you’re 8

Cake, on the other hand…

Cakes and Cornwall

Our favourite Truro memory is a little bakery called the Tilly Mint.

A blue cake. Well, why not?

Quirky wedding cakes

Birthday coming up for the little one?

A little something for your very own Bob the Builder

Cup cakes are a specialty. I’m not really a fan, but I can certainly appreciate the art work.

Want more on curious Cornwall? Stay tuned next Sunday right here on Sophie’s World!

Meanwhile, if food and travel is your thing, my friend Katie and her gang have just launched The Flying Fugu, a new food and travel blog. Hop on over and have a taste!

What are some of your favourite food finds around the world?

Truro

Kids, cakes and Cornwall is a post from Sophie's World

From the Nile, the Old Cataract Hotel looks grand, perched on the granite bluff above. If you’ve seen Death on the Nile, it will also look familiar. My oldest daughter enjoys sipping tea in old world hotels, preferably while wearing a big hat, looking mysterious.

Uniformed guards at the gate inform us we have to pay 85 Egyptian pounds to enter. They obviously don’t want any riff-raff hanging about. However, the entrance fee can be applied to anything you buy while here, and we are having tea. To spend the full amount, we even have Royal Tea. We’re shown to the lower terraces. The grand terrace where there’s a band, plush, comfortable sofas and, not least, a roof over our heads, is for residents only.

Agatha Christie was once a resident of the Old Cataract. Do I ever want to be one? Well, I’m not so sure I like the attitude here.

Then again, I probably will…

Have a look at DeliciousBaby for more fun photos.

High Tea at the Old Cataract in Aswan is a post from Sophie's World

You see, every Thursday, Ashley and Jason Bartner organizes pizza night at their agriturismo. And it doesn’t hurt to have a chef in charge, a chef with years of experience working at top notch restaurants in New York and San Francisco.

Jason believes in the slow food movement, in cooking with the seasons and keeping it simple. You won’t find pizzas with everything here. Instead, each pizza has just a few ingredients, all fresh from the local meat and cheese market and from the garden.

While Jason cooks the pizzas in a wood-fired oven outdoors, we sit at a large table with other guests, friends and neighbours. On a lovely June evening, we counted five nationalities around the table: Ireland, Italy, Netherlands, Norway and the USA were all represented, a miniature UN we were.

But enough about us. This is about pizza. And wine. And dessert. Then it’s about more wine and yummy liqueurs, just to digest it all, you understand.

Sadly, I don’t have any photos of cooked pizzas. Each vanishes almost as soon as it is brought to the table: roasted pepperoni, salami, melt-in-your-mouth prosciutto.

You’re vegetarian, you say? Fear not. My favourite of the evening: potato pizza! Also known as pizza biancha, white pizza. It’s incredibly delicious. And very simple: thinly sliced potatoes, ricotta cheese, arugula lettuce, olive oil, salt and pepper. That’s it.

Another favourite is onion pizza, almost as simple.

Then there’s wine: yummy house wines!

For dolce, sweet, there’s tiramisu. Normally, I don’t like tiramisu. Yet this one I ate so quickly I forgot to take a photo. Instead, dear reader, I’ll share the recipe with you. Straight from the horse’s mouth – or rather, from Jason’s magical kitchen, here’s the world’s best tiramisu.

Ashley serves home made digestivo made from nuts and berries growing around the house. My fave is nocino, walnut liqueur. Others prefer brugnolino, plum. Of course, you can never go wrong with limoncello.

The 95 % alcohol used for soaking fruits and nuts can be bought at the hardware store. Same place you can buy chickens.

Early morning at La Tavola Marche

Disclosure: I was a guest of La Tavola Marche. However any opinion expressed is of course entirely, yummily, delectably my own.

Pizza night in the Italian countryside is a post from Sophie's World

Your choice at Café de Paris is whether to have your entrecote medium or saignant. Every once in a while someone, usually a tourist, orders his steak well done. And that’s OK. The waiters are too polite to comment. Bear in mind that well-done here means you still have to work hard to keep your steak from jumping up and down on the plate. With the extra large cutlery, you should be fine, though. The forks can easily be used as weapons. Take care not to stab yourself inadvertently in the throat – from the inside.

Café de Paris is like a French bistro with red leather sofas, wood panelling and mirrors. The tables are so close together, you could pinch thin, crisp frites from the next table without being noticed. Very intimate, very cosy. Efficient white-shirted waiters, many of them well into their 60s, deftly manoeuvre gas burners and sizzling steaks between the tightly packed tables.

Here’s the thing. I don’t really like meat. I never eat steaks – except here. Whenever I’m in Geneva, I’m simply drawn to Café de Paris by some unseen magnet. It’s very weird. And like some wild carnivore, I devour blood-dripping steak that has barely kissed the grill. How is that possible? Must be the herb-butter sauce that’s bubbling all around it. The secret recipe, created by the proprietor’s father-in-law, Monsieur Boubier, in the 1930s, has remained unchanged. In his book The Last Days of America, Paul Erdman states that Café de Paris has the best entrecote sauce “of any eating place on earth”.

As always, the place is teeming with laughter and lively conversation in every language. Geneva is home to the UN after all. Everyone is busy chatting, except me. I’m on my own in the midst of people I don’t know, and will likely never see again in this lifetime. Shamelessly, I listen in on everyone’s conversation; taking notes even.

The clientele is never dull. Two elegantly dressed Genevois women in their 70s sit at the next table. We wouldn’t have to move an inch to greet each other with air kisses. Not that we do. They’re so busy with their mobile phones, they hardly have time to order. Elsewhere, a crowd of diplomats are discussing a Palestinian delegation. A man dressed like Liberace enters with a teenage boy. An elderly gentleman is enjoying his after-dinner cigarillo while reading the newspaper. He keeps looking at a picture ad for Lisa, mostly undressed, who’s only “too happy to satisfy your every request”. A man and a woman, both 60ish, look like they’re in love. They seem to be planning a trip to Cuba and she is lecturing on Che Guevara. It’s wonderful!

For dessert, I have mousse-au-chocolat. At Café de Paris, it’s as good as it gets; served in an egg shell made of thin white chocolate, bathing in whipped cream of the very dairy variety. Again, here’s the thing: I don’t really like mousse-au-chocolat, or whipped cream. And yet…

The air is ripe with the scent of meat, sizzling, spicy butter, discreet perfume, ripping matches, the slightly yeasty scent of a Pinot Noir – and smoke. All around me people are smoking. Café de Paris is not for you if you need a lot of personal space. Nor if you can’t stand the scent of Gauloises and smoke in your eyes with dinner. Here’s another thing: I kinda like my space and hate smoke. Yet I adore Café de Paris. Go figure!

This article was originally published in Boots’n'All in March 2007. When I was last in Geneva, in January 2010, Cafe de Paris was delightfully unchanged. However, as of 1 May 2010, Switzerland introduced a law banning smoking in public spaces, including restaurants.

This is not a sponsored post.

Geneva

Cafe de Paris – a Geneva institution is a post from Sophie's World

Basta Art Café

On our very first day in Dubai, we discovered Basta Art Café across the street from our hotel and loved it instantly. There was even a cafe cat. In a courtyard of an old wind tower, Basta is located in the Old Bastakiya quarter, close to Dubai Creek.

It seemed to be an expat hangout, so not that local, but very child-friendly. We popped by almost every day, trying new things most of the time (‘cept Alex who kept ordering pancakes with strawberries). Their Arabic breakfast is great, with tea, white cheese, greens, tomatoes, Arabic bread, honey and a delicious, slightly salty yogurt. In fact, I want some right now!

Just as delicious any time of day, is their drinks selection, with Moroccan mint tea and fabulous juices. Here’s our favourite:

Funny-looking, but delicious lime and mint juice; tastes like a non-alcoholic mojito

Shakespeare & Co

On our last day, we happened to pass Shakespeare & Co in The Village on Jumeirah Road. Thinking it was a branch of the great Parisian book shop, I decided to stop by for a quick look. Instead, it turned out to be a restaurant/patisserie/flower shop, fabulously decorated in a turn-of-the-century, very opulent style. We only had time for ice creams on the large airy terrace.

Around us, by the potted trees and the fountain, others were lounging in the comfortable cushioned wicker sofas, smoking sheesha. Ahh, next time. Sans kids.

This is part of DeliciousBaby’s PhotoFriday series. Have a look at other great photos here.

Dubai

2 Cool Cafes in Dubai is a post from Sophie's World

With children, a better option – and probably cheaper, is flying to St Helier via London. Then again, Cat, my youngest, very much wants to see the Eiffel Tower and Ali, my oldest, wants to reminisce about earlier visits when she was a (younger) child. So as Paris is on sooner or later anyway, well… this is just two trips in one!

Cat’s first Paris photo

Ali reminiscing, means eating at the iconic Cafe de Flore. We have croque monsieur and citron pressé. Lovely sandwiches, to be sure. EUR 70 for three sandwiches and lemonade, well… it had better be, hadn’t it.

However, I adore Cafe de Flore: the atmosphere, the history… it’s easy to picture the scene 50 – 60 years ago, when this was the hang-out of Simone de Beauvoir, of Jean-Paul Sartre, the venue of grand philosophical discussions on existentialism and the like… I’d love to travel to Cafe de Flore of the 40s and 50s! Below is a short review I wrote for EuropeUpClose:

Originally from the late 1880s, Café de Flore is a Paris landmark and a favourite hangout for artists for most of the 20th century. Located on Boulevard Saint-Germain, it’s perhaps most famous for being the watering hole of the existentialists in the mid-20th century. During the German occupation, this was the second home to renown philosophers, Jean-Paul Sartre and Simone de Beauvoir. As Sartre put it: …nous étions au Flore chez nous. They breakfasted, worked, lunched, talked, dined and entertained here from morning till night.

As in most Paris bistrots, it’s perfectly fine to sit by yourself. I especially like the covered outdoor section on a rainy day, having coffee (or lovely hot grog in winter) and watching Parisians hurrying past.

While they, at times, get a bit of flak for their service, over the years I’ve experienced nothing but nice, friendly waiters; letting me sit for hours and hours with a single glass of citron pressé, reading a book. When not busy, they’ve even offered great conversation. All those decades of philosophical debate must have permeated the woodwork, it’s one of my favourite hang-outs for inspiration.

Café de Flore is an excellent place to stop for champagne after shopping in fashionable Saint-Germain-des-Prés. On a more abstemious note, my 8-year-old adores their Croque Monsieur.

26 Rue Saint-Benoît
75006 Paris, France
Tel: 01 45 44 33 40
6th Arrondissement

Paris with kids – a quick stop is a post from Sophie's World

At about 5, I stopped at a cheerful pub called The Castle Arms that looked cosy in the late afternoon sunshine. Might they have some food and not just beer, I enquired. “Sorry, luv,” the man said. “We finish serving food at 2. Try the Garrison or the Viking. The Viking serves pub meals from 6 o’clock.” Then he went on to give detailed directions to the Viking – over the bridge, around-and-a-ways, next to the petrol station – clearly indicating, I think, which of the two alternatives he preferred.

I was hungry now however, so the Garrison it was. Looking at its menu, comprising wine and tapas, I could see how it might not offer ideal grub for a big, burly man. Anyway, he called me luv. A bit naff, I know, but I rather like it when big, burly men call me luv.

Castle Rushen – and a bit of Castletown history

Settling on chicken breast stuffed with smoked salmon (sounds odd but it works) followed by a ham, cheese and peach salad and a lovely glass of Italian red, I stared out the window at Castle Rushen – one of Europe’s best kept medieval castles. I thought of Magnus Olafsson, my fellow countryman and the last Norse king to rule over Man. He died in Castle Rushen in 1265. The following year, another Magnus (Magnus Lagabøte – or Magnus the Law-mender in English) ceded the Isle of Man to the Scots at the Treaty of Perth. (Norway kept Shetland and the Orkneys for another couple of hundred years, until a king of Denmark-Norway pawned them (!) to pay for his daughter’s dowry… but that’s another story for another time).

A few minutes earlier, a guide was busy closing up shop at Castle Rushen. Her colleagues were soaking up the last rays of the setting sun, chatting and waiting for the remaining visitors to leave. None too happy with me showing up 4 minutes before closing time, they were reluctant to let me in. But I was firm, insisting it was 4.56, not yet 5. I showed them my 4-attractions-on-Man card (which I hadn’t time to use, silly me for buying one), determined not to leave the island without at least using half of it.

Back at the Garrison, I was persuaded to try a dessert called Eton Mess. When I asked what on earth that was, the waitress just said: “It’s gorgeous!”, herself rather gorgeous – and slim. So I took my chances. Eton Mess is meringue, whipped cream and strawberries, all mixed together in a well… mess. Eton? I suppose this is what rich young boys like for pudding. Afterwards, I thought I was going to explode, that’s how full I was.

Castletown Square has the imposing Castle Rushen on one side. On the other, the cerulean ocean peeked through an alley. Waiting for the bus back to Douglas, I reflected on, as I often do, the fact that I’d probably never see this square again. A pretty square in a pleasant town on an interesting island. Sadly, the world is full of places I haven’t yet seen…

Tomorrow: some concluding thoughts and observations about the Isle of Man
Below: Castletown harbour. I do like sail boats.

Castletown

Castletown is a post from Sophie's World

We have no great expectations for our final night in England. Thus, I’m all the more pleased to stumble upon the surprising Anton’s Restaurant & Champagne Barn in Great Hallingbury, near the little village of Bishop’s Stortford. Surprising because it is an elegant, yet informal gourmet restaurant in the middle of nowhere. And because the kitchen is run by Anton Edelmann, celebrated chef at London’s Savoy Hotel.

When you travel with a 6-year-old and have an early morning flight, you eat early. For quite a while, we are the only guests.

The restaurant is located in the grounds of Great Hallingbury Manor and doubles as a sort of animal sanctuary. We begin by walking about the grounds for a bit. Rabbits hop about, geese and ducks waddle, swans swim in the garden lake. My daughters are delighted.

A bit later, while we’re seated next to the window, the geese decide to have a very public toilet break right before our eyes. Nothing like a bit of entertainment with your food. And all to the accompaniment of planes taking off from the airport nearby. Surprising how quickly one gets used to stopping in mid-sentence, then finishing the sentence a few minutes later.

Postscript: A year later, as I write this, I wish I had taken proper notes, as sadly, I can’t comment much on the food. However, that has nothing to do with Anton’s. Apart from delicious Coquilles St Jaques, I just can’t remember what we had. Just that we all enjoyed it. My youngest remembers the special treats of home made lollipops. They came with the bill – which was quite reasonable, considering the quality.

I wish I had a better photo as well. The above is the result of a mediocre mobile phone camera. However, if I’ve piqued your interest, do have a look at their website. And no, nothing sponsored here.

Bishops Stortford

Anton’s Restaurant & Champagne Barn – in the middle of nowhere is a post from Sophie's World