To kick off my transition back into the corporate world, I spent my second week on the job in the south of France. For work, you guys, seriously. And it was one intense week, hence my lack of photo-worthy meals as I subsisted mostly on quickly inhaled Orangina and pain au chocolat for five days. Not that I’m complaining, as I happen to love orange soda and flakey buttery bread stuffed with chocolate. But every time I hustled from our apartment to the Palais des Festivals, the sight of people leisurely sipping rosé and chatting over decadent cheese plates was an effective reminder that I was not even remotely on vacation.
Still, working long hours in the French Riviera doesn’t suck. And I did squeeze in a handful of square meals with my lovely new co-workers. The filet de boeuf (a seared filet mignon) at Pastis was cooked to absolute perfection, and needed no adornment. And dinner at Le Bâoli was nothing short of an experience, complete with a flaming bar and two-foot tall mojitos. You know, simplement parce que.
To paraphrase the words of one of my esteemed colleagues: “Au revoir Cannes, vous êtes complétement fou!“