Wednesday, July 7 – St-Jean-de-Luz: [Deb here] I’ve discovered a small street in town where there are no gelato vendors nor sellers of espadrilles, but shops of more distinction, including one with a compelling shop window of shoes and bags of many hues. After walking by the shop twice while it was closed, I returned to select a deep blue pair of ballerinas (55 euros). After talking with the proprietor, I learned that all the shoes are made in Spain and in France (mine are the latter) and not “chinoise” as she noted firmly. I wish that I could carry back a couple of pairs of pumps in beautiful colors in suede and skin, but am exercising great discipline! The color and style selection reminds me of the shops in Florence that sell gloves:
We returned to the cafe that sells savory tartines with green salads and a carafe of wine for dinner:
B wanted the merlu (white fish) tart:
And I wanted the potato, gruyere, and herb tart we’d had before:
Per protocol, we each ate half of each. As usual, we had our flavor enhancers at the ready:
I’m the last person to join the hordes of ice cream eaters in resort towns, but after accompanying B to the gelateria in town a few times, I’ve now decided that this gelato is the best that I’ve ever tasted — no, it is exceptional — so that I’ve joined B in selecting a couple of flavors to taste each night. Two that are just mind-boggling are the cassis and the caramel with fleur de sel. Never in my life have I tasted such perfection, not even in the Italian melon or chocolate gelato we’ve had over the years. [B here: One outstanding flavor that I never expect to taste again was “Lait de brebis” (sheep’s milk).]
I’ve decided that I would make an excursion to Saint-Jean-de-Luz strictly to taste each night’s freshly-made gelato flavors and to buy colorful shoes.