Missing In Action, Part 2: Lunch on a Random Tuesday Afternoon In France

© 2016 Chris Terrell

It is the morning after that first meal in our little Burgundian cottage—a simple meal of cheese, bread, and fruit. Now, with the light of day, I am able to get a better sense of where we have ended up. It is relatively early—the sun has not yet burned off the morning mist. I grab my camera to capture this ancient piece of France that we will call home for the next several days.

© 2016 Chris Terrell

Our village is called Saisy (say-SEE). To call it a village is like comparing Peoria, Illinois, with New York City. A dozen houses line up haphazardly on either side of a single, narrow street. And like every village in France, there is an amaranthine church that lies solidly at the center of the village, covered in scaffolding. Workers tend to it with Gallic indifference. There is a Mairie (town hall) that doesn’t appear to be open, even thought it is after 9:00AM.

© 2016 Chris Terrell

But nothing compares to the pale green pastures and fields that surrounded us, guarded by suspicious cows and indifferent sheep.

The owners of our little cottage are American expats. The husband is a former executive and his wife a former environmental engineer. They have apparently been living in, and renting, this place for many years, as evidenced by the wealth of knowledge they have put into the handmade guidebook that comes with the house. Looking for a perfect place to find lunch, a third of the way into the guidebook, I find their favorite restaurant. It is in the village of Nolay, a short six and one  half kilometers away. 

© 2016 Chris Terrell

I park our Renault on the quiet main street, the restaurant to our left, across the street from the Hôtel de Ville. We pay our respect to the WWI monument, with a WWII appendage—there’s one in countless villages and towns in France—before heading over to the restaurant. 

It’s a bit on the late side for lunch, even for France, and we find the restaurant empty except for a table of four men just finishing their lunch and their wine and having a good laugh about an unknowable topic. While a nearly empty restaurant back home would be cause for concern, not today. I’m confident the food is good. We are not disappointed. The food is traditional country French but plated with the flair one would expect in L.A.  

Escargot, salad, main course, dessert; and of course, a bottle of red wine. We take our time. 

© 2016 Chris Terrell

I’m thinking about those fields near our cottage. When you are surrounded by where your food comes from, you care a lot more about how it is grown; how it’s prepared; and the time you take to enjoy it. 

Maybe it’s the wine, but I’m really enjoying France.