Hector's Vacation

Tonight we were invited out for dinner with Patrick & Helen Barbe and Jon Lynam at the Drakkar in central Deauville. This restaurant is by far the favourite haunt for the British racing fraternity- on this occasion well over half of the people eating there must have been English. When the sales start next week the front window will be occupied by Coolmore exclusively, drinking the most expensive wines and champagnes and smoking cigars for many more hours than most people take to eat their entire meal.

Tonight, as is always the case when in the town, there were many familiar faces walking past or in the restaurant. We were treated to a small glass of champagne each as an apperitif- Hector took to this very warmly and was soon complaining of bubbles in his nose. We enjoyed a variety of very fine food, our starters were Moules a la creme, Crudites, Sea Snails, and two warm goats cheese salads; one with smoked salmon wrapped around the cheese and the other on sliced apples. Hector did not believe that the snails had been cooked and so spent at least half an hour playing with one, oping it would pop its head ot of the shell by tapping it repeatedly with my fork; eventually he gave up and in disgust threw the shell over his shoulder, narrowly missing a blonde haired lady who immediately assumed it was I who had thrown the offending mollusk.
My smoked salmon salad is a paricularly fine dish, holding a very delicate flavour where the balance between the smooth chevre and oily saume fume is just perfect. I've never found anywhere else that serves this combination but I enjoy it fantastically. There was another table of English people beside us and when Helen's sea snails arrived they were fascinated- one of their table was brave enough to try one but quickly had eyes for my salad- I told him that if I had ordered the snails he could have had as many as he wanted, but with only four pieces of goats cheese I was going to save them to myself.

Our main courses caught me by surprise, both due to hunger and being in deep conversation I failed to capture any photos of an amazing spread. Helen had a Caesar salad, I had Steak Hache aux haricots verts, Dad had Saumon grille, Patrick and John both had sole grille. My meal was fantastic and I heard no complaints from anyone else. Conversation was free flowing between catching up on all thats been since we last properly spoke and also on the upcoming racing both in England and France.

It is a very bizarre situation to be in- sat at dinner with the person who once (not quite) 'babysat' my sister and I- it was more keeping us out of trouble while we were in Deauville. Helen used to keep an eye on us or keep us entertained at the beach, the stables or most famously with ice creams and crazy golf. Now we are having an 'adult' dinner together and discussing her babysitter for her own children. Its very bizarre indeed. Hector is positively infantessimal on these terms, even if he does have a wise head on him already. Many a Deauville morning was spent sweeping the yard or mucking out the horse boxes when I was much younger- I enjoyed it greatly and on occasions earnt myself a few francs (and asthma if I worked really hard, but I've since grown out of that).

Le Drakkar itself is a very individual restaurant- the walls and ceilings are oak panelled with booths of different shapes and sizes where you can eat inside, or perch yourself at the Veuve Cliquot bar for cocktails. We were eating outside, as is the fashion for all the restaurants along this particular road. When the sales are on they extend out onto half of the road with tastefully decorated temporary marquees as business requires many more staff and the tills are continually ringing.

We finished off the evening with Cafe au lait and Helen had one of the French speciality Espresso's- thimble sized in portion but with the effect of having a female weightlifter from Yugoslavia slap you in the face- master Sprague would kill for even a sip of this stuff. Hector had to ask for a straw so that he didn't get the frothy milk on his nose after making quite such a mess at lunch time.