This would be one of those posts that is really for my children. We had two terrific dinners in Cerles, and they are worth remembering. You, random reader, might find the photos of the nearly raw meat that we scarf down in a wolf-like fashion gross, so feel free to move along.
All the best après ski restaurants have real fire. Do they look exhausted? They are exhausted.
The second night, the Olympics were on. Curling. WHAT IN BLISTERING BLUE BARNACLES IS THAT?" they cried. And watched, transfixed. Because, curling is transfixing. And baffling. So, high entertainment in the Pyrenees.
Spain is a country of meat eaters, so other than the not being able to communicate in Spanish at all, we fit right in. We ordered one of these for the whole family the first night. We didn't eat it exactly that raw, as it was cooking over hot coals on the little hibachi you can see on the table. But some of us didn't let it cook much longer.
We ordered two the second night, after there was nearly a fist fight over the last piece.
Finally, at the end of the evening, this wee one took some time to have a chat with the remnants of this unfortunate fellow. She was stroking his neck and talking to him. I scooted closer to have a listen to what she was saying.
"Yummy, yummy, yummy!" she whispered.
Carnivores, one and all.
Next:
A girl after my own heart!
Posted by: Debbie Hanson | April 19, 2014 at 11:12 PM