“It’s chewy” he says. “That’s the texture that I love. Crunchy and crispy on the outside, but chewy on the inside.”
He’s talking about macaroons again.
“That’s when they’re the best. When they’re like that they’re like the good chocolate chip cookies you used to get at the school canteen”.
Needless to say, The Hungry One went to a different school to me.
But his relief is visible. He’d obviously been silently chasing the concept …
The Paris supermarket may have had me at hello, but that was before I met Les Halles. Lyon’s covered central food market helps you understand why Lyon has more restaurants per capita than any other French city. They’re serous about food.
I’m wandering around like Augustus Gloot in Wonka Land. My mouth’s open, I don’t know where start. There are cheese counters where I lose count. There are tray after tray of pre prepared baby desserts in glass cup- trifling trifles with layers of fruits, creams, jellies and crumbles that are the size of thimbles. There are sloping plains of quenelles, the classic Lyonnais eggwhite based fluffy fish dumplings, just waiting to …
The Hungry One has just returned to our white square table. It’s so wide we can only just hold hands across it like proper honeymooners.
“You have to go to the bathroom “ he says. “ I’m serious. There are nature sounds, hand cream and two types of cologne- lavender and one they’ve called intense. I tried a bit of both.”
I should have known. The Hungry One finds it hard to walk past a buffet without sampling a little bit of everything on display.The bathrooms at Nicholas Le Bec are only the tip of the iceberg of elegant excess. It’s a place that is so adult that I can’t help …