The minute I write this, a beautiful bird is in the process of launching its existence simmered chicken roti-wrapped casserole in our red, herself asleep in our oven. It is the miraculous fate of our virtual walk yesterday evening, during which our path crossed that of Lili63 and very appetizing picture. Our chicken for us, it also knows the oven for three hours, prefer to be accompanied by carrots and onions, my stomach still a little weak of his misfortunes before yesterday preferring lemon and thyme flavors a bit more neutral. 
I go back to the moment of Vasselot Street where I picked only because Patoumi known to demonstrate the serious need, products necessary to provide a hedge against any melancholy, and to delight our taste buds at our banquet this evening.
At Au Boeuf Charolais beef , quietly waiting, full of quiet satisfaction in finding the thin line in front of me when he was ten, when I know the nightmare that I would have expected, so to speak , an hour later. While only a dozen people, including myself, are waiting their turn, I find myself outside the butcher shop, which itself overflows onto the road by a small glass case where rotisserie chickens, pork loins well tied and portions of caramelized bacon under my eyes in a heady scent. If for some there is no need to make its meat self, our butcher had planned to keep her company a gratin of zucchini and roasted potatoes with shiny golden dress let me guess they owe it to a long bath of gravy. As I contemplate this spectacle with almost an appetite as we have just breakfast, a gentleman airs grandfather asked me before "hot chicken". His "thank you, that's it" in response to "you want something else?" the butcher who has seized a gesture nimble poultry crispy baffles me and I find myself in now identified with it ("thank you, that's it "is the formula that I use for general decline in consumer incentives for businesses), imagining her age, either in forty years, my grandpa G., eager to enjoy Patoumi peaceful days with little effort to do, now therefore come, as now, try not to prepare a chicken but a loan that we all enjoy on our sunny balcony, commenting on the comings and goings of passers-by whistling a small bottle of wine ardeche year ... 2047?
After passing quickly through the grocery A good farmer to get the carrots and onions, my good fellow poultry (the butcher will be able to find me "the smallest of the lower court" or a chicken is meaty one kilo two, two lovers), and cherry tomatoes C OEUR pigeon to wrap Mortadella Bologna for drinks tonight, I head to our favorite wine shop, the Cave du Sommelier.
Patoumi and I love smiling and friendly retailers, this is how our wine shop, besides being good advice, which is why we are faithful. While this may seem obvious, it is not for everyone, and certainly not for all traders. Not so far from where I look at the pretty bottles moment, there is also a tobacconist whose owners are among the most despicable I have ever met. It was a Sunday winter morning, and I wanted to buy a magazine whose title escapes me now (Patoumi and his extraordinary memory undoubtedly would remember, but I do not want to interompre in his work). Knowing that this newsagent is open, we go there. That Sunday, it's cold, so I put my coat with hood. Big mistake. Do not I know that the coat with hood is the sign that we recognize the young , and the young is a thief, a criminal, a drug addict, you name it, the more so when it is accompanied by an immigrant ? In short, hardly looked at the magazine I review the summary anyway before buying, I hear a voice hoarse and roaring and I see a fat cow to mop peroxidized, ravaged by age and bitterness, burst upon me with a "This is not a library here! You buy, or you go!". We have chosen to leave, not without shouting and rage as a response to this harpy. I finally had a meeting, did not increase the nest egg that some cod EUR; I have another one today, it noted that the press tobacco The Joffrerie , 14 rue du Marechal Joffre at the corner of the street Vasselot, is to proscribe his associates, under penalty of support Supporters of political guidance that I will not mention, for decency.
But all this is very far now, and I am trying to query our Sommelier . Patoumi and I are wine lovers rather light and fruity South-East or the Loire, and here we find our happiness. We are, through our Cave and a few restaurants in which we have our habits, as I'Arsouille rather familiers de personnages comme Hervé Souhaut (Rhône), Olivier Lemasson (Touraine), Catherine et Pierre Breton (Loire), René Jean Dard et François Ribo (Drôme/Rhône), Axel Prüfer (Hérault) etc. etc.
Mais aujourd'hui, il se trouve que je viens acheter un p'tit rouge pour la venue de ma mère, et qu'elle n'aime que les vins du Sud Ouest. Qu'importe ! Il saura me trouver un Buzet, qui j'espère fera son petit effet. Je n'en doute pas, mais quoi qu'il arrive, nous aurons toujours cette consolation d'ajouter une jolie bouteille à notre collection, puisqu'en plus d'être bons et natural-and thus leaving my migrainomètre levels rather lower than the average wine-, also know our growers delight the eye with the pretty labels that decorate these bottles.
La Cave du Sommelier, 22 rue Vasselot, 35000 Rennes,
02 99 78 85 09
Au Boeuf Charolais, 22 rue Vasselot, 35000 Rennes,
February 1999 79 16 30
A Good Farmer Vasselot 11 street, 35000 Rennes
02 99 79 16 47
Posted by G.
I go back to the moment of Vasselot Street where I picked only because Patoumi known to demonstrate the serious need, products necessary to provide a hedge against any melancholy, and to delight our taste buds at our banquet this evening. At Au Boeuf Charolais beef , quietly waiting, full of quiet satisfaction in finding the thin line in front of me when he was ten, when I know the nightmare that I would have expected, so to speak , an hour later. While only a dozen people, including myself, are waiting their turn, I find myself outside the butcher shop, which itself overflows onto the road by a small glass case where rotisserie chickens, pork loins well tied and portions of caramelized bacon under my eyes in a heady scent. If for some there is no need to make its meat self, our butcher had planned to keep her company a gratin of zucchini and roasted potatoes with shiny golden dress let me guess they owe it to a long bath of gravy. As I contemplate this spectacle with almost an appetite as we have just breakfast, a gentleman airs grandfather asked me before "hot chicken". His "thank you, that's it" in response to "you want something else?" the butcher who has seized a gesture nimble poultry crispy baffles me and I find myself in now identified with it ("thank you, that's it "is the formula that I use for general decline in consumer incentives for businesses), imagining her age, either in forty years, my grandpa G., eager to enjoy Patoumi peaceful days with little effort to do, now therefore come, as now, try not to prepare a chicken but a loan that we all enjoy on our sunny balcony, commenting on the comings and goings of passers-by whistling a small bottle of wine ardeche year ... 2047?
After passing quickly through the grocery A good farmer to get the carrots and onions, my good fellow poultry (the butcher will be able to find me "the smallest of the lower court" or a chicken is meaty one kilo two, two lovers), and cherry tomatoes C OEUR pigeon to wrap Mortadella Bologna for drinks tonight, I head to our favorite wine shop, the Cave du Sommelier.
Patoumi and I love smiling and friendly retailers, this is how our wine shop, besides being good advice, which is why we are faithful. While this may seem obvious, it is not for everyone, and certainly not for all traders. Not so far from where I look at the pretty bottles moment, there is also a tobacconist whose owners are among the most despicable I have ever met. It was a Sunday winter morning, and I wanted to buy a magazine whose title escapes me now (Patoumi and his extraordinary memory undoubtedly would remember, but I do not want to interompre in his work). Knowing that this newsagent is open, we go there. That Sunday, it's cold, so I put my coat with hood. Big mistake. Do not I know that the coat with hood is the sign that we recognize the young , and the young is a thief, a criminal, a drug addict, you name it, the more so when it is accompanied by an immigrant ? In short, hardly looked at the magazine I review the summary anyway before buying, I hear a voice hoarse and roaring and I see a fat cow to mop peroxidized, ravaged by age and bitterness, burst upon me with a "This is not a library here! You buy, or you go!". We have chosen to leave, not without shouting and rage as a response to this harpy. I finally had a meeting, did not increase the nest egg that some cod EUR; I have another one today, it noted that the press tobacco The Joffrerie , 14 rue du Marechal Joffre at the corner of the street Vasselot, is to proscribe his associates, under penalty of support Supporters of political guidance that I will not mention, for decency.
But all this is very far now, and I am trying to query our Sommelier . Patoumi and I are wine lovers rather light and fruity South-East or the Loire, and here we find our happiness. We are, through our Cave and a few restaurants in which we have our habits, as I'Arsouille rather familiers de personnages comme Hervé Souhaut (Rhône), Olivier Lemasson (Touraine), Catherine et Pierre Breton (Loire), René Jean Dard et François Ribo (Drôme/Rhône), Axel Prüfer (Hérault) etc. etc.
Mais aujourd'hui, il se trouve que je viens acheter un p'tit rouge pour la venue de ma mère, et qu'elle n'aime que les vins du Sud Ouest. Qu'importe ! Il saura me trouver un Buzet, qui j'espère fera son petit effet. Je n'en doute pas, mais quoi qu'il arrive, nous aurons toujours cette consolation d'ajouter une jolie bouteille à notre collection, puisqu'en plus d'être bons et natural-and thus leaving my migrainomètre levels rather lower than the average wine-, also know our growers delight the eye with the pretty labels that decorate these bottles.
La Cave du Sommelier, 22 rue Vasselot, 35000 Rennes,
02 99 78 85 09
Au Boeuf Charolais, 22 rue Vasselot, 35000 Rennes,
February 1999 79 16 30
A Good Farmer Vasselot 11 street, 35000 Rennes
02 99 79 16 47
Posted by G.
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