There was a meal

It was a celebratory meal. The local restaurants were all hosting a local food night with one-off fixed price menus showcasing the best in local produce. G and I sweet talked the baby sitters and booked ourselves a table for two at the restaurant in the next village.

For €40 each, we ate the best meal of our lives.

It started with saffron liqueur - safronille - that tasted like honey and came in magical, weeble-bottomed glasses.

While we sipped our safronille we nibbled on duck and lobster amouse-bouches and began to realise what we had let ourselves in for.

There was duck fois gras with walnut brioche and fig and apple chutney.

There was asparagus with salmon and a tomato sorbet.

There was confit of duck with a spicy duck parcel on the side and potato and mushroom gratin.

There was mild goats cheese, lightly fried in the crispiest, most fragrant parcels imaginable with a honey and walnut dressing.

There was strawberry and white chocolate mille-feuille.

And there was a different glass of local wine with every course.

Oh, and don't forget the blue mountain coffee.

And the handmade raspberry and chestnut petit fours to go with our coffee.

Someone had even found time to make exquisite, beaded napkin rings.

But the best thing?

The great company.