Wrap it up as perfect...please!
Moncarapacho ~ Route 66 Chez Eugene Rowland Campground
GPS: N 37, 04' 593"
W 07, 45' 544"
Hello! Ola from Portugal...
Some days are surprises. Other days are perfect. And...still a few days are perfect surprises! I have been bursting at the seams to share, but what is the one thing (a necessary tool) a blogger needs? No, not a phone, not a laptop, neither work without: Wi-Fi! NO Wi-Fi since Thursday evening. Frustrating, but no complaints in our lives.
Tinto announced he made a booking for us for Friday lunch. Whaaaaaaaaat? He rarely makes bookings and I am in shock, but...extremely pleased. He says we have to be ready at noon. On Friday, I asked Tinto how far we had to travel on the scooter and he just chuckled.
Tinto gently advises me that we need to take 2 glasses, 2 plates, and ...more than likely, cutlery. Whaaaaaaaaaaaaat? Again! I find a wooden serving tray and put items together, tying the cutlery with my very French, Eiffel Tower, black and white bandana. Tinto says, 'You may want to grab our 2 'Route 66' pillows, too! I AM CURIOUS.
I tidied Mr. Horace, proceeded to get ready and headed to scooter...(a little late!) Tinto grabbed my hand and we began walking up the hill towards the outside bar where we met many of our lovely companions previously; (I am staring at Tinto with questions...) and The Chef appears and greets us with a huge 'Ola' and smile. Owners are French...staff is French. Heaps of guests begin appearing and chef announces it is too cold to dine outside and ushers us into rustic, wonderful shed, tin doors and all. I think/feel again we have been transported back in time AND a part of this scene looks extremely familiar. We both remark that it reminds us of the Barossa Valley.
No one speaks English...except for Chantal, manager/owner (?) who orchestrates everything exceptionally well. Our 2 new Belgium mates speak 4 or 5 European languages (as does Chantal), so we sit on a bench comfortably perched on the two Route 66 pillows at a lovely, long wooden table across from our new friends WHY is it most Europeans speak at least 3 languages? Envious. Truly. I want to speak French and Spanish; Tinto cracks up whenever he hears me genuinely try. Anyway...we ARE all conversing - chattering away - language barrier has disappeared.
The entrance to the shed was eclectic, yet warm. The long, wooden lunch table was waiting to 'come to life' in the room that followed. Light, laughter, and true hospitality was beckoning us to enter.
Chef brings out tiny, glass pitchers of Kir. Promise you, it looks innocent and refreshing, but HAVE A FEW! (Or...have only two!) This is a very popular drink with the French...Crème de Cassis, blackberry currant liqueur combined with vino blanco. NOT sweet, surprisingly luscious and goes down easily. HAPPY. DELIGHTED. Tinto poured me a glass first and said, 'Tell me how it is.' Whaaaaaaaat? He laughed, knocked a few back, relieved it was not a sweet concoction. The other cocktail the French and I totally agree upon is THE one I serve every Christmas. I have no earthly idea if it has a name; I am certain it does, but it is a dollop of Chamborde (raspberry) liqueur topped with champagne. Prettiest Christmas drink you will ever serve...and, please notice how happy your guests become.
Natalie, adorable French server/bartender places marinated black and green olives (JOY!) along middle of table accompanied by roasted peanuts (YAY!); everyone begins nibbling. I pull a tiny, loaded dish of olives towards me with a sly grin.
Chantel reminded us that they have flags from many countries, but...they are missing an Australian one; we promise to forward.
Music begins, a man in a kilt sings The Beatles (???), time moves by...so much chatting the room begins to sound like buzzing bees, then bowls of hot, steaming pieces of succulent, moist beef with sliced carrots appear with a ladle. A gleaming, sparkling jus engulfs the beef, bright orange, thinly sliced carrots and aromatic spices - WE ARE READY.
We ladle servings onto our plates. Citizens from various places on the planet surrounding a community table. Plastic cups, crystal wine glasses, oval paper plates, coloured china dishes, white, square, round ceramic plates makes the entire table charming. Baskets of warm, properly crusted hand-made bread lined up and down the table and the men dive in first.
In the deep south...we use bread to 'SOP UP' the jus. You can refer to this way of finishing a meal any way you wish. I do not care where you were born....everyone seemed to be 'SOPPIN UP THE JUS WITH THE BREAD', male or female!
Such a simple meal. The Chef AND the guests made it, quite frankly, spectacular A N D I would like very much to repeat this afternoon when Tinto and I return to Kapunda. You know how that goes...you try to replicate some fab memory...and it never goes the way you see it in your mind's eye! Expectations, but...I know I will try.
Next course, tiny, fresh bibb lettuce drizzled with a light, white wine, lemon vinaigrette paired with a triangle of sharp, mature cheddar and a creamy, oozing piece of Brie. Are we in heaven?
Yes, I know...I know Americans enjoy their salads at the beginning of a meal; Europeans enjoy salads after their main course. WHO CARES? You can present a salad to me anytime, anywhere. It was TASTY.
Since the main course arrived the adorable and handy, miniature glass pitchers are now filled with a mighty French Cabernet Sauvignon. Natalie, my new mate and I, requested more Kir. ANY time ANY guest requested more of ANY item...it appeared effortlessly. My kind of community lunch...and did we linger. Another musician graced us with his accordion skills and the dancing began.
Black and white dessert, fresh cream with dark, chocolate thinly sliced cake. At least, I think that is what it was...homemade...I think. I do not love sweets, but by this time I had consumed quite a few glasses of Kir. Tinto said I ate my dessert AND his. Hmmmmmmmmmmmm.
Total cost for a perfect afternoon lunch: 10.00 Euros each.
Cost per night at this funky, strange, yet wonderful campground: 10.00 Euros per night.
Reporting from the southern coast of Portugal...
Tinto & Blanco of The Roaming Stevens
YES, Route 66 in Portugal.
Kir makes us HAPPY!
Our new, fabulous mates...
Inside view of dining room door...
Lunch party only beginning...
Ms. Chantal (Chanti) our hostess with the MOSTEST!
Tinto and I DID wonder why the guest sitting next to him grabbed his Acubra hat, but...when we saw how HER HUSBAND entered the room, we got it!!!
Glorious Chef.
First room/entry to shed.
GPS: N 37, 04' 593"
W 07, 45' 544"
Hello! Ola from Portugal...
Some days are surprises. Other days are perfect. And...still a few days are perfect surprises! I have been bursting at the seams to share, but what is the one thing (a necessary tool) a blogger needs? No, not a phone, not a laptop, neither work without: Wi-Fi! NO Wi-Fi since Thursday evening. Frustrating, but no complaints in our lives.
Tinto announced he made a booking for us for Friday lunch. Whaaaaaaaaat? He rarely makes bookings and I am in shock, but...extremely pleased. He says we have to be ready at noon. On Friday, I asked Tinto how far we had to travel on the scooter and he just chuckled.
Tinto gently advises me that we need to take 2 glasses, 2 plates, and ...more than likely, cutlery. Whaaaaaaaaaaaaat? Again! I find a wooden serving tray and put items together, tying the cutlery with my very French, Eiffel Tower, black and white bandana. Tinto says, 'You may want to grab our 2 'Route 66' pillows, too! I AM CURIOUS.
I tidied Mr. Horace, proceeded to get ready and headed to scooter...(a little late!) Tinto grabbed my hand and we began walking up the hill towards the outside bar where we met many of our lovely companions previously; (I am staring at Tinto with questions...) and The Chef appears and greets us with a huge 'Ola' and smile. Owners are French...staff is French. Heaps of guests begin appearing and chef announces it is too cold to dine outside and ushers us into rustic, wonderful shed, tin doors and all. I think/feel again we have been transported back in time AND a part of this scene looks extremely familiar. We both remark that it reminds us of the Barossa Valley.
No one speaks English...except for Chantal, manager/owner (?) who orchestrates everything exceptionally well. Our 2 new Belgium mates speak 4 or 5 European languages (as does Chantal), so we sit on a bench comfortably perched on the two Route 66 pillows at a lovely, long wooden table across from our new friends WHY is it most Europeans speak at least 3 languages? Envious. Truly. I want to speak French and Spanish; Tinto cracks up whenever he hears me genuinely try. Anyway...we ARE all conversing - chattering away - language barrier has disappeared.
The entrance to the shed was eclectic, yet warm. The long, wooden lunch table was waiting to 'come to life' in the room that followed. Light, laughter, and true hospitality was beckoning us to enter.
Chef brings out tiny, glass pitchers of Kir. Promise you, it looks innocent and refreshing, but HAVE A FEW! (Or...have only two!) This is a very popular drink with the French...Crème de Cassis, blackberry currant liqueur combined with vino blanco. NOT sweet, surprisingly luscious and goes down easily. HAPPY. DELIGHTED. Tinto poured me a glass first and said, 'Tell me how it is.' Whaaaaaaaat? He laughed, knocked a few back, relieved it was not a sweet concoction. The other cocktail the French and I totally agree upon is THE one I serve every Christmas. I have no earthly idea if it has a name; I am certain it does, but it is a dollop of Chamborde (raspberry) liqueur topped with champagne. Prettiest Christmas drink you will ever serve...and, please notice how happy your guests become.
Natalie, adorable French server/bartender places marinated black and green olives (JOY!) along middle of table accompanied by roasted peanuts (YAY!); everyone begins nibbling. I pull a tiny, loaded dish of olives towards me with a sly grin.
Chantel reminded us that they have flags from many countries, but...they are missing an Australian one; we promise to forward.
Music begins, a man in a kilt sings The Beatles (???), time moves by...so much chatting the room begins to sound like buzzing bees, then bowls of hot, steaming pieces of succulent, moist beef with sliced carrots appear with a ladle. A gleaming, sparkling jus engulfs the beef, bright orange, thinly sliced carrots and aromatic spices - WE ARE READY.
We ladle servings onto our plates. Citizens from various places on the planet surrounding a community table. Plastic cups, crystal wine glasses, oval paper plates, coloured china dishes, white, square, round ceramic plates makes the entire table charming. Baskets of warm, properly crusted hand-made bread lined up and down the table and the men dive in first.
In the deep south...we use bread to 'SOP UP' the jus. You can refer to this way of finishing a meal any way you wish. I do not care where you were born....everyone seemed to be 'SOPPIN UP THE JUS WITH THE BREAD', male or female!
Such a simple meal. The Chef AND the guests made it, quite frankly, spectacular A N D I would like very much to repeat this afternoon when Tinto and I return to Kapunda. You know how that goes...you try to replicate some fab memory...and it never goes the way you see it in your mind's eye! Expectations, but...I know I will try.
Next course, tiny, fresh bibb lettuce drizzled with a light, white wine, lemon vinaigrette paired with a triangle of sharp, mature cheddar and a creamy, oozing piece of Brie. Are we in heaven?
Yes, I know...I know Americans enjoy their salads at the beginning of a meal; Europeans enjoy salads after their main course. WHO CARES? You can present a salad to me anytime, anywhere. It was TASTY.
Since the main course arrived the adorable and handy, miniature glass pitchers are now filled with a mighty French Cabernet Sauvignon. Natalie, my new mate and I, requested more Kir. ANY time ANY guest requested more of ANY item...it appeared effortlessly. My kind of community lunch...and did we linger. Another musician graced us with his accordion skills and the dancing began.
Black and white dessert, fresh cream with dark, chocolate thinly sliced cake. At least, I think that is what it was...homemade...I think. I do not love sweets, but by this time I had consumed quite a few glasses of Kir. Tinto said I ate my dessert AND his. Hmmmmmmmmmmmm.
Total cost for a perfect afternoon lunch: 10.00 Euros each.
Cost per night at this funky, strange, yet wonderful campground: 10.00 Euros per night.
Reporting from the southern coast of Portugal...
Tinto & Blanco of The Roaming Stevens
YES, Route 66 in Portugal.
Kir makes us HAPPY!
I don't even know what to say!
Inside view of dining room door...
Lunch party only beginning...
Ms. Chantal (Chanti) our hostess with the MOSTEST!
Tinto and I DID wonder why the guest sitting next to him grabbed his Acubra hat, but...when we saw how HER HUSBAND entered the room, we got it!!!
Glorious Chef.
First room/entry to shed.
Dining room wall...ALL FAB.
Our very own Route 66 pillows! Ha!
SAFE ROAMING.
Tinto & Blanco
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