That Night In Paris by Sandy Barker

Author:Sandy Barker
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers
Published: 2020-02-13T17:00:00+00:00

Chapter 11

Jean-Luc caught me up on the rest of his family as we finished our wine. I had never met them, but he’d written about them so often, I’d been fond of them from afar. He was obviously still close to his family, something we shared. Although he got to see his family a lot more than I saw mine.

And seeing how Jean-Luc’s face lit up as he talked about them made me feel a rush of affection for mine. Maybe I would look at flights to Australia when I got back to London.

“Are you hungry?” he asked as we left the wine bar.

“Starving.”

“Excellent. I am taking you to one of my favourite places here in Roma.”

“You have a favourite place? How often do you come here?”

“To Roma? Ahh, five or six times a year.”

“Wow. No wonder your Italian is so good.”

“My Italian is okay.”

“I thought we talked about false modesty. It’s a very unattractive trait,” I teased. “Uh, do you mind if we slow down a bit?” I was having to speed walk to keep up with him—one of the disadvantages of being under five-two. There are others—many others—that I won’t bore you with.

“Oh, yes. I am sorry. I just love Roma. I am excited like a little boy, but no need for jogging,” he said mischievously. We slowed down. “I should say, it is not an extravagant place, but the food! It is incredible.” “On-kwoy-ab-le”, he’d said. It was quite sexy how he peppered his English with French words. “I always try to go when I am here.”

“So, they must know you by now.”

“Ah, oui, you will see.” He grinned down at me with that gorgeous smile of his. It was impossible not to reciprocate.

It was about a ten-minute walk from the wine bar to the restaurant and Jean-Luc spent most of the time talking about some of the dishes he’d had on previous visits to this mystery restaurant.

“They must have a high rating on Google.”

“I don’t know. Peut-être. It is very small. A family place. And we are here.” He stepped to the side of a doorway, so I could go on ahead of him, but it wasn’t clear where to go. There was only a plain door.

“In here?”

“Oui.” I tentatively opened the door, and a waft of delicious smells and a burst of Italian chatter greeted us. With his hand on my back, Jean-Luc guided me into the tiny restaurant.

I counted eight tables along one side of the narrow room. A glass-fronted display case ran nearly the length of the other wall. It was in sections and looked like the counter at a particularly nice deli—cheeses, cured meats, fresh beef, two types of fish, and bowls of chopped veggies and herbs.

It was only when I saw the woman behind the counter take handfuls and scoops from various bowls and trays and combine them in a large silver bowl, that I realised the display case was her fridge. She tossed the silver bowl a few times, then threw the ingredients into a hot pan where they sizzled.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.