After a long week of work drafting business plans and letters for Martín Berasategui, all I wanted was le weekend sans ordinateur. To kick off my non-manic monday, I started with perfectly grilled txipirones at Bar Jean in Biarritz. This defines “bien marcado.” No-nonsense, get-it-right-or-don’t-do-it-at-all, garlicky goodness:
What a difference it makes to get away from Lasarte every now and again, to take an aventura on the train to a not-so-far-off place within Pays Basque but on the other side of the border, in France! It’s been a while since I’ve gone to the beach and taken time to enjoy the sand beneath my feet, the thrashing of the waves and the beauty that is naturaleza:
Port des Pêcheurs
If small French towns can have markets like Les Halles (Lyon, Biarritz, St Jean de Luz to name a few), and major cities can have large mercados (Ferry Building in San Francisco, Mercado San Miguel in Madrid, Chelsea Market in NYC), why is Boston still dishing out tourist trap junk at Faneuil Hall? Es una tontería. We’re ‘planning’ with rumors of this Boston Public Market, but let’s get this show on the road, folks! And please don’t hire the tontos from The Big Dig.
In a picturesque town with good surf, quaint museums (Planete Musée du Chocolat and Cité de L’Océan et du Surf ), tasty bites, a gourmand’s marketplace, pâtisseries here and there, fresh-made cones and luscious gelato from La Passion des Fruits, a gal like me can find more than enough aventura in one day. All the more reason to return, and return soon I shall.