Clockwise, from left: potatoes, with some kind of cream-and-butter-laden sauce poured over them; salmon, drowning in some kind of cream-and-butter sauce; carrots, to make you feel healthy. I'm going to go out on a limb here and say I think the key to all this is the cream and butter.
On the whole, the guy who ran the hotel seemed to have somebody's dream job. (I hope it's *his* dream job, but since he's been doing it for 11 years, I assume he's pretty happy with it.) He runs this hotel by himself. He assumes guests will keep track of the wine they drink and pay him for it at the end of their stay. He works on top of a little mountain. He gets to play with fire (sauna, hot tub). And his ancient dog, Harley, follows him around all day.
And by "follows him around" I mean "lies on the floor outside whatever room he's in, looking forlorn." Often, that room was the kitchen. Here's the window where the guy hands stuff out of the kitchen.
The owner is the guy in white; the guy in yellow is a teenager who lives at the bottom of the hill. Both of the local teenagers who helped out with meals during the week are also members of the lady dancer's dance group. This one is about 17 and when he dances, he always has the biggest smile on his face. It's so cute and not-sullen-teenagerish. The funniest thing I saw all week was when he and one of the 20-something guy dancers were briefly dancing a partner dance together and kept trying to force each other to give up the lead. On paper (or screen), this may not sound that funny, but a guy-struggle-for-dominance in the form of folkdance was pretty freakin hilarious.
4 comments:
Mmmmm...cream and butter!!!
Sometimes I rue the fact that my cultural heritage is based on such unhealthy foods. But most of the time I embrace it. How many other ethnicities would lead to a family Christmas-table conversation about the various unusual ways in which people eat butter (me: plain, my aunt: spread on chocolate-chip cookies).
Were the carrots plain? Just sitting there, cream-less and butter-free? That's disgusting. Harley should be ashamed of his owner.
When I went to France with J. Po, Landrew, and our friend RR, I ordered a "Salade" which I was certain was salad. Instead, they brought me two egg yolks poached in cream. I wonder if that is what a "salade" is in French. Anyway, very delicious. Your dinner plate there looks amazing.
Post a Comment