Renato Molinari's lessen on how to eat French cheeses.
Quote:
Originally Posted by
jackiewilson
Living the Mediterranean life ROY—— I had friends from all over the globe———Great food and wine for next to nothing. Toured Spain Italy and Portugal. Picked the grapes and pressed them. Picked the olives and took them to be pressed. Flew my best friends airplane, Went for a steak at “BUFFALO GRILL” in Montpellier for a change from seafood.
Almost perfect weather—- once had Christmas dinner on the top terrace in shirtsleeves.
Had a 30’ sea ray in the harbour—— dined out on it with a bunch of friends most summer days.
Was a continual round of visiting friends and eating and drinking with them—- Reed Eller was famous throughout the world for his dry martinis——Gin, Vodka or Tequila Two of those and you were anybody’s!!!
Fresh baguettes twice a day from the village bakery ( Boulangerie )two hundred local vineyards to choose from !
Traditional centuries old festivities four or five times a year that involved local communities—— and the Annual three day oyster festival —- the midsummer music festival !
Hells teeth ROY—- what did I do in Bouzigues——?. Damned if I can remember —— but I seemed to have time to create a few pieces in my six car garage that served as a workshop.
All you have to do to create a masterpiece is open the mind and think laterally—- vertical and horizontal——- and away you go.)
Jackie congratulations on the good life of evading high taxes in England, and dining with cultured friends in the moderate climate of southern Europe.
I was a Floridian greenhorn from the states, and the first time, I flew in a commercial airplane was going to Italy. I had never been out of the United States until then, so my learning curve went to new territories. I say this as a preface, with dining with Renato.
So we (including my dad, and I think a fourth person too, but I cannot recall who it was). We are in central France (maybe close to where you are now Jackie) traveling, and we stop to eat. At this roadside restaurant, I experienced two new things in my life.
The first was the restroom. Americans know my reaction, when I walked into the restaurant’s adjacent restroom. And there was no urinal or toilet (a word derived from the French). Instead there was a hole in the ground. And more accurately a white porcelain/stoneware slab with two shoeprint impressions in the slab, one on each side of the target hole. Welcome to 1971 southern Europe.
So back inside the French restaurant we have several courses to eat. And (I think it was a later course) Renato ask for fromage, and this platter of cheese was aged. The age in fromage was showing. There was mold over half of the 8 or 10 varieties of cheeses on the platter. Renato selects about 3 varieties, and at least two have mold on the outside surfaces.
So my greenhorn eyes are looking at Renato’s plate, and I’m thinking is he going to eat that. Renato in style, like a chef schooling a newbie cook in his kitchen, take’s his knife and cuts off the outer molds with precision. And with a Cheshire cat smile, Renato proceeds to eat the unmolded cheese sections. I grew up eating Wisconsin cheddar, and now culture broadens my palate.
