Tuesday night was our last meal in England and our ninth anniversary, so we celebrated at a little French bistro in Kensington, where we dined on the sidewalk and nearly froze in the cool evening drizzle; a quintessential London experience.
Unlike Suffolk, London actually feels like Europe. Ancient and modern architecture coalesce in a cacophony of foreign languages. Fashion. Food. The fast pace of an international city. It was everything that our village was not.
We dined at Cote Restaurant just off the High Street and enjoyed a bottle of their house red, Lagarde Rouge. I ordered the pan-roasted duck breast with gratin potato and a griottine cherry sauce. Rich ate linguine with tiger prawns, mussels, clams, and squid sautéed in garlic, chilli, shallots, white wine, and cherry tomatoes.
Britain has a persisting reputation for poor food. But it’s really just the pub food that gets old. Overall, England is chockablock full of ambitious chefs, fresh, real food, and inspired menus. Our experience at Cote was no exception.
As much as I’m sad to leave England, I’m so excited to see the sun again and savor the culinary scene of the Southwest.