I had lunch with Oliver the other day.
Well, actually I had lunch with Becky but Oliver was at the table next to ours and when a doggie that cute comes over to your two-top, wagging his stumpy little tail, how can you resist him?
Becky was first to arrive at Toulouse. She was sipping champagne which looked so quenching on that 105 degree day that I had the same. You've gotta trust a gal who's spent time in Paris and knows her way around a French menu.
We sat on the patio which in nice weather is open-air. The cafe used to run misting fans in the summer but they can really do a number on a lady's hair and since this is quite a neighborhood see-and-be-seen place, closing it up with clear plastic walls and airconditioning the space seems a brilliant idea.
I love dining with Becky. Great conversation aside, she's someone who thinks, cooks, and enjoys food like I do. We share meals. Our fathers shared a room. Room 107.
Our meal started with a Montrachet tart. Oui!
The tart was followed by a large bowl of mussels in a saffron broth with leeks, pommes frites on the side. We then split a salad; crisp and rich with poached pear, walnuts and Rocquefort cheese.
I suspect our next meal at Toulouse might not be shared because Becky was really eyeing this sole.
(We were both eyeing the waiter.)
Two weeks later and here I am, craving so many things on the menu; the Vol au Vent; creamy mushrooms topping a pastry shell, Bouillabaisse sounds good even in this heat, or I could go for that Montrachet tart again. I know next time, I'll be finishing one of those with the lobster salad and a second glass of champagne...
...unless Becky wants to share a souffle. Or beignets! Maybe a cheese plate... Oui, oui!
I hope Oliver shows up.