My interests go a lot beyond my business. Good Food, for one.
THE first thing to do with a Tartiflette is to ease your fork through the crust of cheese. If the casserole is done right, that cut will release a whiff of milky steam infused with a suggestion of onion and garlic.
The best moment, though, comes with a perfectly proportioned forkful. A chunk of cream-soaked potato and a smoky bit of lardon will be married with a smooth coat of reblochon — cheese made from the milk of one of three breeds of French cows that march to Alps meadows in the spring and return to hay-filled barns in the winter.
“Thank you Monsieur Leon for that piece of education !” I said while we trooped out of the snazzy restaurant. (But he likes me if I cal him simply, Bernard). I’ve never enjoyed French cuisine as much before.
This was one meal over which we never discussed business. Bon Appetit!