Greek hospitality

For the best part of 20 years, since one of my best friends hooked up with and then married Nikos from Athens, I have been at the receiving end of generous Greek hospitality. Our recent visit culminated with a memorable lunch at their weekend house on the coast in Nea Makri near Marathon. As is usually the case in good weather, the food is cooked on the grill in the garden – in this case squid and octopus for starter, followed by a large, family-sized sea bream.

The food is always wonderfully simple, showing off local, seasonal ingredients. My friends are fortunate in benefitting from a family-owned olive and citrus grove and they make their own vinegar and wine (like many Greek households). We made a vinegar and oil dressing for the squid and octopus, whereas the fish was dressed (anointed) with an emulsion of lemon juice and oil. We sipped some ouzo with the starter (octopus and aniseed are a match made in Mediterranean heaven) and salty, mineral Assyrtiko from Santorini was ideal with the fish. Plenty of bread and salad were passed around.

My friends tend to round off a meal with fresh fruit, so we climbed up onto the roof and picked apricots from the tree and ate them gazing across the water to the island of Evia. A distinctive and memorable end to our holiday. Efharisto poli!

Food shopping with Nikos

It was lovely being reminded what great hosts the Greeks can be. Our friends in Athens have a family house near Marathon in a town called Nea Makri where they enjoy long relaxed meals at the weekend. This part of Attika is a large fertile coastal plain that has traditionally provided Athens with an abundance of fresh produce.

While there, I was taken food shopping by my friend Nikos – a real treat at the end of May as you can see from the pictures. For simple, seasonal food, you couldn't have asked for more. I was particularly taken by the smiley chap with the furnace-like rotisserie. Apparently, he usually sells out by lunchtime when he wheels it in and shuts up shop for the day. He opened it up for me so I could appreciate the white hot charcoal and delectable aromas. I look forward to trying one of those sheep heads another time. Maybe.

Exploring northern Beaujolais

I have to confess how excited I was about visiting Beaujolais. As I am (deceptively) mature, Beaujolais was one of the first wines I heard of and, indeed, consumed. This was shortly before the British wine market became flooded with New World wines and even when I was working at Oddbins in the early 1990s, Beaujolais Nouveau was still quite a big deal and involved some very early morning deliveries. As soon as it came off the van we'd open it – of course – and this light boiled sweet and bubblegum confection went surprisingly well with a McDonald's Big Breakfast or two (you'd be hungry at that hour). It's hardly representative of Beaujolais though and did as much for the reputation of the region as Liebfraumilch did for Germany.

We got to experience the real Beaujolais on holiday last summer, spending a couple of nights in tiny Lancié near Fleurie. We stayed in the beautiful family run maison d'hôtes Les Pasquiers (see top) where we enjoyed breakfast and evening meals, all based around local produce, even sourced from their kitchen garden. Dinner at Les Pasquiers also included local wines from Méziat down the road in Chiroubles.

We spent two nights in Beaujolais but, with our daughter in tow, didn't have too much time to devote to wine. So, after our first night at Les Pasquiers we had a relaxing morning by the pool before heading out for lunch at Domaine de la Madone in Fleurie. We spent the rest of the afternoon following the Route des Vins through northern Beaujolais – Moulin à Vent, Chénas, Juliénas and St Amour before looping back to Lancié via Romanèche-Thorins. Other than the more famous communes of Fleurie and Juliénas, these were mainly quite modest little hamlets, but the old stones and seas of vines help reveal Beaujolais' long history. Place names like Juliénas and Romanèche-Thorins hint at the region's Roman heritage.

The following day after checking out of Les Pasquiers, we headed south through Chiroubles and Villié-Morgon and Brouilly, passing extinct volcanos Mont du Py and Mont de Brouilly (see below), sources of serious, age-worthy wines. It would have been tempting to stop off in the handsome town of Brouilly with its bustling cafés and bars, but we were heading to Lyon for lunch.

Next time we'll also include southern Beaujolais, especially the scenic Pierres Dorées district, but this visit we focused on the northerly crus – the finer wines of the region. I'm so pleased we did. After a few disappointing decades, Beaujolais is now back on track producing some of France's best value and most enjoyable wines. For me, Beaujolais has graduated from perking up a dreary November to often taking top billing at Christmas. It deserves a bit more than a Big Breakfast.

(If you're planning to visit the region take a look at this useful piece by Sue Style on the Decanter website.)

Le Touquet: retro charm just across the Channel

I've got the softest spot for Le Touquet. How could you not? It's full name is Le Touquet Paris-Plage and this retro resort is a short drive down the coast from Calais, almost within sight of the south coast of England. So, when I was planning our summer holiday last year, it was an obvious overnight stop after our lunchtime ferry from Dover.

As its name implies, Le Touquet is one of France's oldest seaside resorts. With its pine woods, long, wide beach, golf courses, elegant avenues and quirky timbered buildings in the centre, it's easy to see why a century ago it became popular with Parisians looking for some refreshing, healthy r & r. Until F Scott Fitzgerald and his pals made the Riviera a fashionable summer destination in the 1920s and 30s, the beau monde decamped here and to other resorts along the Channel like Deauville, Trouville, Cabourg, Dinard and Dieppe.

Given that we were travelling on a Sunday – and how in France so many restaurants close Sundays and Mondays (amazingly even during high summer) – it made sense to spend the night somewhere reliably lively.

No risk of Le Touquet feeling quiet, the town marching band had been weaving through the streets and along the seafront and the town was buzzing. In one of Le Touquet's busy pedestrianised streets we had some bargain moules frîtes before carrying on strolling, finishing the evening with salted caramel crèpes.

We spent a comfortable night at the Hotel Bristol – just the kind of place regular Le Touquet visitor Noël Coward might have approved of – before continuing our predictably 21st century journey towards the hot sunny Mediterranean.

(Painting of Hotel Bristol copyright Alain Godon, 2010)

Happy memories of 2010

As we see out 2010 and look forward to 2011, I'm indulging myself with one of my favourite images of the year. This is a photo of one of France's naughtiest delicacies and, for me, the merest thought of it conjures up holidays. I'm a huge fan of butter and when it's seasoned with crunchy sea salt, it becomes a treat to cherish. I have to confess, I'm particularly partial to it spread on baguettes, along with Bonne Maman strawberry jam, although it melts deliciously over simply cooked vegetables and is ideal to use for frying.

Looking at this picture in the depths of winter, I can't help but find the summery packaging uplifting and my mouth is watering at the sight of the butter. Happy memories indeed.

Happy New Year!