A joke that saved my life…. well it saved my evening.
It was a dark and stormy night, in Limoges. Actually, it was only 7.45pm but it was dark, wet and windy. I’d arrived in town at 3pm… identified a place to eat, then explored a bit. It turned out to be the day after a public holiday…. there wasn’t going to be much open for dinner.
Surely, the tiny Lebanese place two doors from the hotel would be open? It was, the two tables full and bookings till 9.30. Aargh… my only other options were a packet sandwich from a small night shop, or to go down the far end of the street and visit a well known, delivery only, pizza chain. Hmm… I wasn’t in France to eat industrial pizza… but it would be warm, at least.
Toward the dark end of the street I saw a vision, a French bistro, check tableclothes and all, open, almost empty. Yes, they had a table! No sooner had I come in, but I realised where I was. A place so legendary, I hadn’t bothered to check it online.
‘Ou est la vache?’ I said cheerily. The waiter pointed upwards. There she was… the legendary ‘La Vache Au Plafond’… and there, on the ceiling, was The Cow, Herself. It was one of the finest meals I’ve ever eaten… alas I was alone, such a place needs good company. I wasn’t really alone… the place filled up rapidly with single diners… all the out of towners.
I’ve been back since… French countrystyle cuisine… lots of meat… gorgeous if you like that kind of thing. I do. Vive La Vache!