We spent the morning tromping around vineyards just south of Dijon on a Burgundy wine tour. Now we were back in town, and it’s time for lunch. We rarely go to the same restaurant twice when we’re on vacation. We want to check out as many places as possible. But we had such a nice time at L’Assiette yesterday, we decided to return to have lunch in Place Emile Zola.
When we arrived at the restaurant, the owner recognized us immediately and welcomed us in. He probably remembered us because we had been chatting quite a bit, half in English and half in French, when we were there yesterday. We struck up another conversation today.
During the conversation a word came up that we couldn’t figure out how to translate. I don’t remember what the word was, but we either had the English version wrong or the French version wrong. Something didn’t sound right.
The owner wasn’t very busy, so he called his brother in London to put the question to him. His brother’s english was excellent. When he got his brother on the line, he gave the phone to me and asked me to talk to him.
The owner’s brother and I started chit-chatting. It turns out that his brother lived in Southern California, in Irvine, for about a year when he was on an assignment for work. I told him where we lived. It turned out that both brothers were quite the talkers. We started talking about Southern California, which he had liked a lot. Did we ever did get our word question figured out? I don’t remember!
Dessert
We had another great, long, leisurely lunch there. By the time we had finished, lunchtime was over and the cafés lining Place Emile Zola had emptied out. The owner came out and asked us if we’d like something special for desert that he had made himself. Well, of course, we said, “Mais oui!”
He went into the restaurant and came back out with a clear bottle and three shot glasses. The “dessert” he had made himself was some kind of home-made hooch that he called his “elixir.” He pulled up a chair and the three of us had a little glassful. How nice was that?
Eventually, we said “au revoir” and walked back to the apartment. We had had quite a morning, and that had been quite a lunch to top it off.
An Easy Day in Dijon
We took it easy the rest of the day. I had figured out how to use the little clothes washer/dryer, so I put that knowledge to use, as much to play with the thing as to wash clothes.
In many European cities, tiny streets in the heart of the cities were laid out long ago. They can’t be changed without leveling the whole area and starting over. Space is at a real premium. As a result, many things, such as our washer/dryer, are designed to be much smaller than what we’re used to. People here find ways to make the most of what they’ve got.
Our clothes washer/dryer is a good example. It’s smaller than one of our average-size dishwashers, but it takes the place of a big ol’ clothes washer and a big ol’ dryer. I’m sure it uses far less water and energy, too.
Since we had planned to stay in apartments on this trip instead of hotels, I thought I’d be doing at least a little bit of cooking. Nope. Why cook when there are so many fantastic restaurants around that aren’t expensive at all?
The only food shopping I’ve done has been on my early morning foraging excursions, which have been fun, but not very adventurous, food-wise. I do have a favorite bakery now, though. I get bread and my “pain aux raisins” there in the morning. It’s fun to walk in and exchange “bonjour madame’s” and “bonjour monsieur’s” with the lady behind the counter.
That evening we settled into what had become our new routine – go out for refreshments at one of the cafés in the square in front of the Dukes’ Palace, then go to dinner. We went to another Italian place that night. I think it was the best yet. But could that be possible? I don’t know, but it was really good.
This place wasn’t fancy, but it was a little fancier than the places we’d been eating at lately. There’s a picture of it here. That’s the front of it. Not part of the front of it – the whole front of it. See what I mean about everything being smaller over here?
After dinner, we walked back to the apartment. The air was nice and the streets were quiet. It was a perfect night for a stroll through old Dijon.
To be continued…
