A weekend of the best boozing there is

Well, to sum it up, I learned quite a bit about Champagne, had a great time and came back sufficiently stuffed on French food, carting 6 bottles of Champagne :)

Sadly, I jinxed my brain in talking about the camera in my last post and forgot the stupid thing in my room every single day. No pictures. I’m a loser. But there are pictures in general, taken by others (non-losers). But anyway, moving right along:

Day 1, Thursday:

Scurrying my way over to the St Pancras station from work, I made my way through the Eurostar check-in and found two of my four companions. It was soon time to board and the three of us made our way to our standard class seats, collectively and jokingly whining about how we all wished we’d sprung for Leisure Select…and it turned out that the remaining two members of our group were in the carriage already when we boarded.

A quick two hour train ride later and we were at Gare du Nord in Paris and disembarked from the train in search of our rental car…we were already collectively tired, from long weeks at work and the fact that with the time change and a two hour drive still ahead of us, it was already nearly 10pm.

After what felt like an hour later, we’d gone to the wrong parking garage, back to the station and were finally in the correct garage, in the car and on our way to Reims. But alas, we got horribly lost in Paris and through a combination of my printed Multimap directions and the handy GPSesque functionality of the iPhone one of my tripmates owns, we finally got out of Paris….cheering loudly as we climbed the entrance ramp to the highway – a ramp we had come to call the vortex :) We got lost again in Reims and it was nearly 1am by the time we were settled in the hotel. And though we exercised impressive amounts of self-control, I think we all wanted to behead each other by the time it was over.

Despite my standing hotel snobbery, I must say that the Holiday Inn Express in Reims is quite lovely…our beds were extremely comfortable, with big fluffy duvets, the rooms were not tiny and the shower was quite powerful…and when you get all that and free breakfast for €70/night (and air miles!), you can’t really complain.

Day 2, Friday:

After a semi-night’s sleep, we all met back up over breakfast in the hotel and after a few jokes about having wanted to kill each other the previous night, we sufficiently carbed ourselves up for a bit of wine tasting, and set off on foot for our 10am tour of the Lanson Champagne house. I highly recommend this tour, as it’s quite informative and interesting…but I’d suggest you go on Monday through Thursday. Sadly, we would have watched the actual assembly line production of the champagne, but the workers only work Monday through Thursday, so we just saw the inactive equipment instead. But still, it was impressive to see the equipment…and even more fun at the end of the tour when we sampled a glass :D I bought two bottles, one each of the classic blend and the rose. Pink champagne is the greatest thing ever invented…I’d never seen it before I moved to the UK, but it’s all the rage here. It’s pink and it’s champagne, does life get better than that?

With tour #1 of the weekend down the hatch, we wandered off in search of lunch. I’m sad to say that with my lack of energy as of late, I didn’t do nearly as much research as I usually do for trips…and though I did have a list of possible restaurants, it wasn’t that well thought out and it wasn’t very long.

When one of my tripmates poo pooed my first suggestion because she thought it too pricey, we ended up around the corner at Le Gaulois, which appeared to me to be some cheesy chain restaurant/pub. But, swallowing my snobbery in the interest of group peace, I followed everyone inside and counted this as a wasted meal.

But, when the salad I’d ordered came, I stood corrected. It was this enormous work of art, with smoked salmon, foie gras, caviar and bacon, all piled on top of very green greens. My wine and my dessert of whipped cream and raspberry sorbet were equally delicious and after settling the “addition,” (the bill), we went our separate ways for a 30 minute break and I did a little window shopping. Regrouping at the cathedral, we set off for tour #2 at Veuve-Cliquot, on the other side of town.

This tour was slightly shorter and more about the history of the house and the brand than about the actual production, but we did hear some of the same explanations again and we all agreed that hearing it again made the details make more sense…and then, at the end, we got to sample more champagne…the best part! Interestingly, we tried the same champagne in two different ways: first, just poured from the just-uncorked bottle, as you usually do. But then we tried a second glass, from a bottle that the sommelier had decanted. None of us had ever heard of or thought to decant champagne, it looked like beer in the decanter, but it did taste differently than the first glass. I thought it was much stronger, which seems counterintuitive, but I still think it did. They gave us little cups of (blissfully fresh) fruit salad and sweet caramely crisps and after we finished our glasses, we headed off on our way. No one bought a bottle because whilst the Veuve champagne wasn’t unpleasant, it wasn’t that fantastic either.

It was late afternoon/early evening by then and we parted ways again with plans to meet in two hours for dinner. Three of us ended up in a café, sipping champagne for awhile and then we went back to the hotel for a bit of solo vegging.

I pulled out my restaurant list again for dinner and with a higher price point agreed upon for dinner, we chose a place from my list and went on our way. As we walked to the restaurant, one of the two men on the trip saw a window of pastries at nearly the same moment I did…and we expressed shared foodie glee at the beauty of them. With plans to go back the next day to devour several of them, we went off to dinner at the Brasserie du Boulingrin. Thankfully, my ego redeemed itself and one of my choices was, in fact, a winner. The French eat quite late and our 7:30 dinner plans made us one of the first to arrive for the evening. By the time we departed at 11pm, the restaurant was packed. The service was impeccable, our server was funny and knowledgeable and the food was plentiful and heavenly. I’d realised I was with my kind of people when the same tripmate who’d seen the pastries was mumbling about what he was going to have for his four courses…’four courses?’ I thought. Oh happy day! And we did…we had two starters each ;) We shared two bottles of champagne and about a half a bottle of wine each. I tried my first raw oyster and had a delicious rest of my meal, all 4 courses of it ;)

I don’t think I need to say that I’m not a picky eater by any means…but I do have a few avoidances. Raw oysters (though I’ve long since loved them fried or in stew), veal, haggis, black pudding…just things I’ve deemed very weird that should not be called food. Oh and peanut butter. I love peanuts, loathe peanut butter. It’s messy, slimy and weird. But, I digress. Per the insistence of my companions and the fact that I was mellowed out on wine, I tried a raw oyster from the platter they’d been sharing. And it was delicious…they created a monster and for the rest of the weekend, we ordered them again and again and I happily partook of them :) Rolling ourselves home, we made reservations at another place we passed for Saturday dinner. Even with my newfound appreciation for the area food, I was silently wary of our choice…it looked obnoxiously modern and trendy and they spelled Bistro “bistrot.” But regardless, we called it a night and parted ways to our rooms.

Day 3, Saturday:

I woke up with a wee hangover and dragging my old and achy self out of bed, I got ready for the day and met everyone again over breakfast. The other gentleman on the trip, who’d been silent about last night’s pastries, had gone out early to our beloved pastry shop and had a pastry for each of us. I thanked him profusely and devoured mine immediately and we left the uneaten ones with reception, for later consumption. Our 10am appointment was at Ruinart and after a short production-style tour, we were given our beautiful samples. As we sipped them, we commented on the extreme clean and crisp taste of this particular one…it was really lovely. And we were treated to a free second glass of the rose, which we were meant to pay €4 each to enjoy. We were all keen to purchase bottles of the first one we’d tried and though we knew it was the premium label, it wasn’t until I checked the price list that we realised why the champagne was quite so lovely. €198/bottle. Oh my. The tour fee had been quite a bit higher at this house than the first two and we were mildly perturbed until we realised that we’d tried really nice champagne twice, all included in that supposedly hefty price. Though I passed on buying a bottle, two of my companions did and we set off for a somewhat hurried search for lunch, as we had another tour in just 2.5 hours.

Given yesterday’s luck on food and my usual neurosis about being late, I didn’t bother with my list and just agreed with everyone else that we head in the direction of tour #2 and find a place to eat on the way…though I was still wary of the bistrot. But, it seemed difficult to find bad food in this lovely little town, so in a thought most unlike me, I just figured that where ever we went, it would be good food.

In a 10 second discussion, we agreed upon a brasserie we wandered across and as we walked in, with one of our French speakers requesting a table for five, a jovial looking man clapped his hands at a young woman sitting at a large table, summoning her to “move it!” (in French). She was obviously an employee or a daughter and we all laughed and sat at the table she’d just vacated.

It was, again, a lovely meal…and the staff, obviously a family, were lovely. I cannot believe that I can’t remember what I had for lunch, it’s so very unlike me not to remember food ;) But I do remember my dessert – a raspberry tart that was just delicious and perfect.

And so, with more delicious food and wine behind us, we set off for tour #2 of the day…a small house that we’d chosen at random on Friday afternoon - G.H. Martel. This one included a film and – since they no longer produce their champagne in the city proper – we saw the equipment that was used in the 19th century, which added a new dimension to an explanation that was becoming a bit repetitive and old to all of us ;) Soon, it was time for the best part…sampling. I purchased a bottle each of the classic and the rose…it was lovely champagne, but I bought it mostly because a quick Google search on the lovely iPhone told us that you can’t get the brand at all in the UK…so I bought it mostly for momento purposes.

With Saturday’s educational portion behind us, we parted ways for a bit of solo time and I wandered rather aimlessly, heading in the general direction of the beloved pastry place we’d seen the night before. Yes, yes, I’d tasted one of them, but I wanted to see what else they had :P

I got lost (duh) and happened upon another pastry shop first…where I bought the only thing I could completely recognise – no one in the shop spoke English. A framboisine…a big blob of whipped cream, delicious raspberries and a little pastry base. Fruit and cream gets me every time. It’s just heaven. I ate it as I walked and was soon in front of my original destination. Well, after nearly getting run over by cars several times, but I did get there. I bought a little mini strawberry mousse cup, which I also ate while I walked and, yay me for moderation, decided not to eat again until our 8pm dinner plans.

We arrived at the bistrot at promptly 8pm and when they directed us to a table for 6, we made ourselves comfortable…only to be reprimanded shortly thereafter by a freaky French girl because she meant the table next to it, the one for 4 people. As we scrunched ourselves around it, one of our French speakers politely pointed out our close quarters…and we were met with a universal “tough” shrug. Okie dokie then. When the party for the table for six finally arrived, we were somewhat comforted…there were eight of them ;)

When we enquired as to what the starter and mains of the day were, freaky girl gave us a peculiar wide-eyed duuuuuuh look. It wasn’t a language issue…she just didn’t know what we were talking about, even after we pointed the words “entrée du jour” on the menu. Things were not going well, but we were at least extremely amused. She did finally come back with the specials and we each ordered as we’d done Friday night: 4 courses each, a bottle of champagne to start and 3 bottles of other wines to share later. She brought the champagne and our (yay) oyster platter – our first course – properly. But then she came back immediately, plopped our three “later” wines on the table, uncorked them and left. Oooookaaaaay. So, I took the bottle that fellow pastry lover and I would be sharing and handed it to him to let him do the tasting honours and pouring…because whilst that’s still not the correct form of things, it was at least second best :/ Comically, due to our close quarters, pastry lover had the champagne and the red we were sharing on the floor between us.

We decided that with the buggy eyes and the just “duh”ness, that she was on something. What, exactly, we shall never know. The oysters, at least, were fantahbulous. But whilst we were all on our first or second oyster each (out of 5 each), she came up with our second courses. Um, no lady. Thankfully, both of our French speakers politely clarified that we weren’t ready for those, seeing as it had been like 4 minutes since our first course had arrived and with that, freaky girl left again…still confused.

When she came back later with the second courses, we were ready for them and mine was delicious…a prawn and cheese casserole of some sort. And for my main, I tried veal for the first time. It was okay, a bit bland compared to a steak, but I didn’t dislike it…and the sauce and gnocchi it came with were mediocre, I’m sad to say. My dessert was equally mediocre, but c’est la vie.

We paid the addition, bid adieu to buggy-eyed freaky girl and called it a night.

Day 3, Sunday:

The last day and we met at our usual time, ate breakfast, checked out of the hotel and departed via our car to Epernay, the other large town in Champagne and it was sort of on the way back to Paris. We had a 10:45am tour at Moet et Chandon, which is in Epernay and is one of the few houses that offers tours on Sundays. But we were toured out by Sunday…and when the lady went on and on about how champagne is made, all we heard was “blah, blah, blah.” But then we got to the sampling…and tasted this heavenly 2000 vintage, one each of the classic and the rose…and we each bought bottles as we left.

With a “small” lunch at a random café with portions both tastier and way larger than we expected, we decided we’d had enough of the Champagne region and decided to go back to Paris early to ditch the car and have an early dinner in Paris.

I’d mentioned to my companions earlier in the weekend that I had a rule with Paris, that I was saving it for romantic purposes…but I didn’t want to be the naysayer, so off we went. And I’m here to tell you, our Parisian oysters were lovely, our quick dinner was really lovely, but it was sad. I don’t think I can go back to Paris again until it's for romance…it’s just too depressing otherwise. And it was only 3 hours…so technically, I’ve never been to Paris :D

Soon enough, it was time to head back and we caught our train, said our goodbyes and went to our London abodes.

And, as a very cool aside of living in London: it is possible to leave London on Friday night, without leaving work early, spend the weekend in Paris, leaving early Monday morning, arriving back to London and to work on time. I’ll file that away under future romantic hopes ;)

All in all, it was a lovely way to spend a weekend, but I’m glad to be back home. I was exasperated and gleeful, in that order, upon my arrival home to discover: that my door will not close and that my TV is fixed.

There was a day 4 for me of course, a day of recovering and relaxation that I can afford because of my lovely five weeks of holiday time :) But all I really did was relax, enjoy the TV that is working again and, lol, call the estate agent to report the door problem. And lest you worry that I’m frolicking about with a door ajar, the handyman came last night and fixed it enough that if I lock myself in, it will close. He’s coming back tonight to properly fix it. Fingers crossed that the omen of home repair is soon behind me.


The dresses will have to wait until another day and I'm not telling the world where they are until I do my shopping. Neiner neiner. But I will tell a certain specific reader :D