This is how every lunch ever should ever be. Ever.
I have a friend visiting from the UK, so yesterday I valiantly managed to get myself out of bed before midday and to the market in town. We bought all sorts of lovely things, most of them meat-based, as we stopped and got chatting to the butcher and my friend liked the look of his meat. This we put this somewhere cool in the bar where we had lunch — because what bar near a market wouldn’t let you put your shopping somewhere cool while you eat your confit de canard — and then ate out in the evening.
Today, my car ended up being immobilised half-way through the supermarket-boulangerie-petrol station run so we found ourselves stuck at home thinking about food.
As we made provisions yesterday, lunch ended up being a stereotypical affair with pâté de campagne, rillettes de porc, cornichons, various goaty cheeses, lamb’s lettuce, garlic, a Bleu d’Auvergne and a bottle of organic Cabernet Sauvignon. Of course, where I live this should’ve been a Bergerac of some sort but it’s Sunday, I have no car and the shops are shut.
You will need:
- various pots of squishy animal mush
- a couple of baguettes
- lamb’s lettuce
- a bottle of wine
- nothing to do later
Half a dozen eggs, some rillettes and some pâté came to a round 8€, and we ate about a third of what we bought but the rest will make TGV lunches tomorrow. The cheeses came to about 4€. The baguettes were 1€ each, the lamb’s lettuce 0,99€ and the bottle of wine was already in the house.
That’s it, really. Ideally, you should serve it on a gingham tablecloth, sitting near a slightly rusting Citroẽn 2CV and wearing a beret, but beggars can’t be choosers.