I'm sure the title of my post probably has you all like, W HA T?! C'est ne pas possible! There is never ever too much cheese in Le Petit Village, especially for those of you who know that here, sometimes we get crazy with it and do things like a Raclette and a Fondue all in one sitting. Because yeah, we're that crazy.
O V E R C H E E S E D.
Allow me to explain: My darling Aussie blogging buddy, B, of Is There Such a Thing as Too Much Cheese, came to Le Petit Village for the weekend. Oh, and she brought her husband, M, with her (so as not to be confused with my friend, M, La Croupier, we will be referring to B's Husband, as Aussie M, and also, please do not confuse B with Honey Bee, Honey Jr's elusive brother. Although I doubt you will since I rarely post about him - although he is set to make an appearance this weekend for The Husband's birthday party. So B is Aussie B. Sorted).
D I G R E S S I O N.
So Aussie B came to Le Petit Village and brought Aussie M with her so The Husband would have a playmate (Honey Jr was in Barcelona for the weekend leaving behind one lonely husband, and a very depressed Fifty).
We talked, we drank some wine, we talked, we ate, we talked, we walked around, we talked, we picked some cherries, we talked, and yeah, we drank some more wine. It was brilliant.
................................................................................................................
This is the BBQ lunch which we had to move inside because it rained buckets and then a thick cloud same and sat on top of Le Petit Village. It was basically Nazi Ghost Zombie weather, so all the better that we stayed indoors.
Making an educated guess that Le Petit Bar would be closed that evening, we drove to a nearby village and it's new wine and tapas bar. That's right, a wine and tapas bar has opened only a village away. It's a, down the mountain, topsy, turvy kind of away, but I don't care, this place is like gold dust. It reminds me of my old Dublin hangout La Cave. The Husband is of course regretting his decision to bring us there because guess where I'm going to want to go every weekend.
We shut the place down.
After a late start Sunday morning (re: we shut the place down), we toured Le Petit Village before heading to another super duper tiny village (If Le Petit Village is 'petit', this place is 'trop petit'). For some reason, The Husband wanted to show us the spot where some monk threw himself off a cliff hundreds of years ago (I really don't understand either).
It's called, Saut du Moine, literally Jump Monk.
O V E R C H E E S E D.
Allow me to explain: My darling Aussie blogging buddy, B, of Is There Such a Thing as Too Much Cheese, came to Le Petit Village for the weekend. Oh, and she brought her husband, M, with her (so as not to be confused with my friend, M, La Croupier, we will be referring to B's Husband, as Aussie M, and also, please do not confuse B with Honey Bee, Honey Jr's elusive brother. Although I doubt you will since I rarely post about him - although he is set to make an appearance this weekend for The Husband's birthday party. So B is Aussie B. Sorted).
D I G R E S S I O N.
So Aussie B came to Le Petit Village and brought Aussie M with her so The Husband would have a playmate (Honey Jr was in Barcelona for the weekend leaving behind one lonely husband, and a very depressed Fifty).
We talked, we drank some wine, we talked, we ate, we talked, we walked around, we talked, we picked some cherries, we talked, and yeah, we drank some more wine. It was brilliant.
................................................................................................................
This is the BBQ lunch which we had to move inside because it rained buckets and then a thick cloud same and sat on top of Le Petit Village. It was basically Nazi Ghost Zombie weather, so all the better that we stayed indoors.
And this is the heart and kidney that Brother-in-Law brought to the BBQ.
G R O S S.
For the record, I would have preferred flowers. Or a nice bottle of wine.
(Fifty got half of the heart. I've never seen him work so hard at chewing something before).
Making an educated guess that Le Petit Bar would be closed that evening, we drove to a nearby village and it's new wine and tapas bar. That's right, a wine and tapas bar has opened only a village away. It's a, down the mountain, topsy, turvy kind of away, but I don't care, this place is like gold dust. It reminds me of my old Dublin hangout La Cave. The Husband is of course regretting his decision to bring us there because guess where I'm going to want to go every weekend.
{It's mine. All mine.}
We shut the place down.
After a late start Sunday morning (re: we shut the place down), we toured Le Petit Village before heading to another super duper tiny village (If Le Petit Village is 'petit', this place is 'trop petit'). For some reason, The Husband wanted to show us the spot where some monk threw himself off a cliff hundreds of years ago (I really don't understand either).
It's called, Saut du Moine, literally Jump Monk.
There's The Husband pointing to where he thinks the monk would have fallen.
W E I R D O.
And this is the spot where the monk was supposed to have thrown himself off the cliff (personally I would have attempted to stop the monk instead of merely making a note of where he was jumping from, but that's just me).
After walking along the edge of Saut du Moine, we stopped at the the trop petit bar. This place was tiny. But surprise, surprise, it was open, and had plenty of Rosé.
Trop Petit Bar : 1
Le Petit Bar: 0
bisou
P.S. You can read Aussie B's take on the weekend here.
And you should, it's really good.
This sounds like a delightful way to spend a weekend! Although, since I currently can't have certain cheeses I'm under the impression you can never ever have enough cheese.
ReplyDeleteAnd I agree, the monk spot is weird.
Ah! That Kidney scares me!
ReplyDeleteThis sounds like the perfect way to spend a weekend!
ReplyDeleteall whilst washed down with lots of rose.. mmm
xx
What a perfect way to spent a week-end. I have to come and visit you. First of all I love wine, especially rosé, then cheese is my favorite plate! The BBQ is really good (for me only meat no heart or other).
ReplyDeleteBisou, Babi
Oh god, that offal, bleugh. I'm trying to eat my cereal over here! Glad you guys had a fab time discovering new watering holes and keeping up international relations!
ReplyDeleteIt sounds like you two had a really great time! Minus being presented with a heart as food. I saw Bear do it on Man vs. Wild, but would never eat one outside of that sort of situation.
ReplyDeleteNow that it seems you have a revolving door policy for fellow France bloggers...... whencantherestofuscome? Pretty please?
Yuck ! That heart ! I can't get over it.
ReplyDeleteHe brought it to a BBQ ? Seriously ?
And I have to say to your blogging buddy, in response to her blog title : there's never too much cheese ;)
Bisous !
Great weekend, shame about the heart!
ReplyDeleteCheers for Trop Petit Bar! And who brings a heart and kidney? I'd much prefer a bottle of wine too.
ReplyDeleteFor some reason, the thought of you having a nice new bar to frequent makes me so stinkin' happy! Seriously - happy!
ReplyDeleteNo such thing as too much cheese. I refuse to believe it.
ReplyDeleteHow much fun!!! (except for the heart thing-ew) And a new bar that's well stocked and nearby- AWESOME!! I know you had fun with your friends, but, that discovery is probably one of the best things that has happened to you. The only other discovery that would outdo this, would be for a Starbucks to open up nearby. *sigh* You can only hope right? Bisous!
ReplyDeleteps- I agree with another poster. There can't be too much cheese. It's impossible! ;-)
I wish we could come visit you - I promise Igbo come I won't even think of bringing hearts or kidneys!!! Xx.
ReplyDeleteYour slice of heaven in France always makes me want to be there on a trip. I never tire of hearing what is happening in your little Le Petit Village....
ReplyDeleteThe heart and kidney photo was indeed gross! I think a bottle of wine would have been the better choice...
I'm loving your stories of France! The bbq components don't look extremely appealing to me, but what do I know? I'm American :)
ReplyDeleteWhat a charming gift - his heart... er and kidney! Things truly are different "over there"! Glad you found a bar that's open, tho.
ReplyDeleteWe have had many bbqs here in California and at our home in Provence but we have never had anyone bring heart or kidney to bbq. I think they must have done that as a joke.
ReplyDeleteIt sounds wonderful! How great to spend it with such great company. I am laughing at your Fifty comment. xo
ReplyDeleteAnd here I was expecting a Raclette party story. Which -of all random things- my grocery store now carries! Raclette? Ce n'est pas possible! you say.
ReplyDeleteIndeed it is. I may have cheese stories myself to come...
Tho not nearly as entertaining as monks throwing themselves off cliffs.
i believe the whole animal should be eaten, but am not a fan of heart and kidney.
ReplyDeletetoo much cheese in le petit village? ce n'est pas possible!
That sounds like such an amazing weekend! I love the sound of tapas and wine :) But too much cheese? Impossible!
ReplyDeleteI think I have been to the place where the monk jumped. Though maybe not, there are a lot of random crosses overlooking hills in Europe!!!
OMG. How fun and awesome!!! I want to be drunk in Le Petite bar!!
ReplyDeleteAlso, the kidneys are disgusting. Like. fuh. shizzle.
Oh my God, I don't think I've seen kidneys or hearts of animals since I took anatomy and physiology in high school and had to dissect a pig! The vegetarian in me is cringing at that picture.
ReplyDeleteI love tapas and wine - you have the most fun stories/things going on!
The way you write is so lovely - I feel like you write the same way you speak, and every time I read your blog I feel like we've had a conversation on the subject.
Can't wait until the next post, dear! xo
Eeep! You have SQUARE plates with purple flowers?!! I want I want I want.
ReplyDelete