We had been wanting to try our local restaurant Le Clos St Pierre and what better celebration than the birth of Big T.
Off we went on Thursday evening to sample our best local restaurant.
I’m pleased to say we weren’t disappointed.
In a lovely rustic stone building, the menu was a four or five course prix fixe (we both did the four course) consisting of entree, plat, fromage and dessert.
I’ll start by saying if you’re a vegan or vegetarian, you’re out of luck as courses included a prawn caesar salad, poached fish in a seafood broth, tender veal with a braised lettuce and fondant potato, a plate of delicious local cheeses and a creamy, mousse of chocolate and brownie.
It was all very delicious and we will most definitely return in the summer when we can sit outside under the grape arbor.
A lovely local treat.
Two snowflakes were apparently spotted in London and the city ground to a halt. Flights were cancelled and commuters faced chaos. Talk about a snowball effect.
As we are booked to go to France on Thursday to continue the celebration of the birth of the Messiah, we are watching the weather forecast with interested concern.
Flights were cancelled based on forecasting which didn’t come to fruition. I wonder what the cancellation policy is on that?
It was thirty three days and we went out for lunch to celebrate the birth of Big T.
Bigger than Christmas, the birth of this messiah can’t be ignored and usually involves a week of global celebration. This year was no different.
Having spent the last thirty three days sober, I debated on how to evolve my relationship with alcohol. Would I fall off the wagon and retox in a rapid saturation of gin or was being smug too hard to give up?
|Pondering the pros and cons…
My newly discovered love of smug would mean drinking would now be reserved for celebrations unless it turned out there was something to celebrate on a daily basis in which case it would need to be reconsidered.
And so to wet the Messiah’s head, I had a glass of champagne and with lunch, a couple of glasses of white wine. It was ok but to be honest I didn’t feel as though I’d missed much. I didn’t feel brilliant the next morning and my previously clear white eyes had a slight tinge of yellow.
Was it worth it? Yes, to enjoy the moment but no to suffer the moderate after-effects.
And so back to Day One…
It was a bit of an off week at mud slinging this week. I was tired and the clay was temperamental, or was that the other way around?
Things started off well as I turned a couple of my previous pieces. I like removing the excess clay to reveal a slightly more refined version underneath and so I left four pieces to be bisque fired ready for glazing.
|Turning the excess clay
Then it was back to the wheel for a throwing session and this is when things seemed to elude me. I could only make 1970s cereal bowls or maybe they were dog bowls, either way I didn’t like the shapes.
|Another bloody dog bowl
I had a couple of catastrophes, threw a bowl I didn’t hate and called it a night.
|The bowl I didn’t hate
Not entirely sure that was making progress!