Corsican Class

26 Jul

As I take my weekly class lessons from the Real Housewives of NYC this evening, I’m reminded of my oh-so-cultured vacation a mere two weeks ago. At just about this time on Tuesday July 12, my brother and I were mildly recovered from two days sleeping on the beaches of Toulon, France and had worked up just enough energy for a four course meal in Ajaccio, Corsica.

While Corsica is a French island, the food and dialect have much Italian influence, right up my alley as I spent a semester eating and drinking in Perugia, Italy two years ago.   My trusty Lonely Planet guide book recommended Restaurant da Mama, a family establishment with a prix fixe menu. AKA the most authentic food for a good price and least amount of decision making.  And let’s face it, I’m on vacation and would prefer to exert the least amount of mental energy possible.

Course 1: charcuterie.  I just can’t get enough of these plates of pig. 


 Course 2: Cannelloni.  It might have been 90 degrees, Pat may have had beads of sweat pouring down his forehead, but that did not stop us from devouring the piping hot baked cannelloni with brocciu (Corsican ricotta/goat cheese).

Course 3: Roast goat. I love meat.

Course 4: Carmel Creme brulee for me, apple tarte for Pat.  You’re never too full for dessert.

And how could I forget the house rose wine in the hot pink plastic ice bag?  

The epitome of Corsican class. I wish I was joking, but on both main land France and Corsica, restaurants keep their vin rose icy cold in these (yes, hot pink) bags that look like they were made from scraps of my inflatable chair circa 1999. Euro-trash?  Not if I can convince at least one NYC Housewife to carry an ice bag as a purse.  


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