LUNCH pages

Bet you know what's coming: good food. Would you believe, one of the four or five best meals Rochelle and I have ever eaten? 

Poblano Pepper - Peach Shrimp Bisque with goat cheese

A gentle day today: a ride over to our favorite kitchen and provision stores in Jacksonville, and an outstanding lunch at the C Street Bistro. This little boutique of a town hosts the Britt Festival, a music celebration that hasn't ever quite appealed to us ... but their Festival has given the town the outside profile it's needed to get its terminal cute on ...and that we do fall for. I would have to observe, however, that our old standbyes, Kitchen and Provisions, aren't keeping up, and this may be our last visit to them. C Street Bistro, however, is worth the lazy trip over the vine-covered hills from Ashland.

This whole southern Oregon valley, an east-west wrinkle in a generally north-south terrain, Bear Creek and the Rogue through Grants Pass, is a singularly blessed spot on the planet. High dessert, except for the streams from the hills around. Today, the smoke from the still-burning fires has been pushed to the north end of the valley, and the sky is cloudless and blue.

Back on a side street, a pinxos restaurant beckoned to us, and we were seated in a corner with a convenient mirror so we could see everyone. Along one wall, a triple layer spread of tapas, called pinxos (pinch-os) in Catalan is arrayed. "Take what you like, but save the sticks. Each one is 1.95€."

We retraced our steps to the harbor, crowded with market stalls selling antiques and vendors with their wares on blankets, and escaped into the Barceloneta neighborhood, a reurbicación (what we would call urban renewal) of what used to be the tumble-down shacks of Barcelona's fishing village: narrow tall apartments in long rows on a grid of streets. We were looking for Bodega La Peninsular, reputed to be be a friendly-to-outsiders local pub. We had a simple lunch (and forgot to take pictures): papas bravas, the local take on french fries, tasty sausages, and a tomato and garlic salad. By the time we were done, the place was full of locals in full cry. 

We notice that the interpersonal space here is half or less what we reserve in California, while the volume of normal conversation is about doubled. We recognize that we are no longer fitted for this kind of urban living. "This is a place for young people," observes Rochelle a little later.

There is an abundance of restaurants in Collioure, because it's a day-trip destination as well as a known delight to stay. They're all gearing up for summer; yesterday was Whit Monday, and the place was crowded. Today, it's modestly busy, and all the shopkeepers have time to chat. 

So far, not even a soupçon of a bad meal. Even my sélection Catalan (€19.90) showed evidence of serious cheffing. Besides the overall deliciousness, the soup was smooth and perfectly seasoned, and the "Catalan-style" (meaning somewhat rough) sauce with the chicken was something I will try to replicate at home. Crême Catalan is like flan, only with a thin brulée crust. Good flavors.

next group : Collioure