Monaco, Cannes & Cuttlefish

A couple of days working in Monaco last week meant parma ham and hot peppers for lunch, whilst watching superyachts and listening to the regular roar of supercars.

I was staying with a friend in Cannes, and the evening meals included a pizza, valpolicella and limoncello in the local Sicilian-run pizzeria, plus two beach picnics. So nice to be on the beach at night and warm! Isn't that what summer is supposed to be like?

Superyachts and swimmers, Cannes

Beach picnic parties consisted of champagne and rosé, all sorts of perfectly ripe French and Italian cheeses, baguettes and olive bread, fruit and olives. There was a plum tart, too, with crumbly pastry and a thick layer of almond paste - mmmmm-m! There was even candlelight, music (a Michael Jackson extravaganza), and dancing!

Camembert by candlelight

On my last day, I had time for some sun-bathing and lunch on the beach, before catching my flight. Attracted by the bustling open kitchen and the sight and smell of the seafood dishes, we picked L'Annex as our beach-side restaurant. I chose the cuttlefish which I had seen being prepared for other diners and looked amazing. My companions chose another cuttlefish and tuna steak. We sipped ice-cold rosé and nibbled light baguette slices as we waited for the griddled seafood to arrive.

We were not disappointed! The seafood itself was perfectly cooked and super-fresh. The pungent garlic and basil sauce that was poured all over it was absolutely mouth-watering. Ideal! Ideal food, ideal to be eating it on Cannes beach! This is one of my favourite ever meal memories.





After the food and wine, my lovely friend hired sun loungers, and I soaked up the rays for as long as possible. We drank sparkling mineral water and cava. When the empty cava bottle was discovered, we were repremanded like naughty school children, for bringing our own drink. This, despite paying a fortune for the loungers, and spending €90 on the meal for 3. Oh well, I forgive them due to the idyllic day and the perfect lunch.

Snail Feast

June spent in France was wonderful; catching up with old friends, enjoying the novelty of the amazing produce, re-acquainting myself with my kitchen and garden, and proper hot summer weather.

When I first arrived, my herbs were being munched by a plague of snails. So I decided to resolve the problem by munching them. Previously, I had been put off by unsuccessful snail-cooking attempts, and there were never that many of them to cook. This time there were dozens and dozens, and I was determined to make them delicious. I had three weeks to purge them (fed only on bread followed by days of nothing at all), before serving them up to friends as a goodbye meal at the end of my stay.

Three weeks of culinary adventures and good times went by. The day of the feast arrived hot and sunny, and I drove my blue banger to the village to get some still-warm baguettes, wine, salad, a massive bunch of parsley and butter. Then, back to my little beauties...

I boiled a huge jam pan of water, rinsed off the snails, shook them to make them retreat into their shells, and winced as I chucked the lot into the boiling water. Job done, the worst bit over. After a few minutes, the snails were draining and cooling and definitely dead. I extracted each one from its shell and removed its twirly gut end, before boiling the meats with herbs and stock veg for 3 hours. The shells were rinsed, boiled in fresh water, and left in the sun to dry.

Meanwhile, I chopped the mountains of garlic and parsley, stirred them into soft butter, and seasoned the mixture with plenty of salt.

Then came a few hours of stuffing each snail back into a shell, each squadged in with a load of the persilade (garlic and parsley butter).

Preparing snails

Next, I dressed the table, mixed the salad, opened the wine, and set out nibbles. Once my guests had arrived, and were having aperitifs, I put the snails in a hot oven for 20 minutes. Out they came, sizzling and smelling fantastic. I dished them up at the table and finally found out that my snail adventure had been a success - they were absolutely delicious, and this was confirmed by my guests, who were Dutch, English and French. The Frenchman commented that he hadn't had snails in ages, and it was funny that this time they had been cooked by an English person. The Dutchman had never eaten snails, and was delighted by them. The Englishman had tasted my previous attempts and was relieved that these were not only edible but extremely palatable and moreish. Hmmm even more salt with the butter next time, though, I think.

Tasty snails

I was thrilled that I had been able to make these slimy creatures tasty at last, and that I had put my snail glut to such extremely good use. All the effort and man hours had been worthwhile. I will definitely be making this a regular pest-control exercise/snail party.

Indonesian Beef Rendang Daging

The lovely Julia invited me and a friend over to try some of her expert Indonesian cooking. She had learned the cuisine from a street food seller, having committed to getting up at 4am everyday of her stay in Indonesia, to spend time cooking with the bemused lady.

Last night we had this scrumptious, rich rendang daging; beef cooked slowly in coconut milk, with herbs, spices and chillies, and served with caramelized shallots sprinkled over the top.

Authentic beef rendang daging


We also drank Clarette de Die infused with apricots as an aperitif, then had a superb starter of Mexican prawn ceviche. After the rendang daging came a cheese selection and salad, and everything was washed down with litres of rosé.