Food coma

Food coma-

One of my long time travel partners Matt Pearson met up with me early February in Banff, Canada for a weekend of skiing/snowboarding. Our M.O. has always been the continuous search for the next great escape. It’s in Canada where in a matter of fact manor he leans over and tells me he’s got something brewing. A visit to the snow sporting Mecca, and home of the first winter games, Chamonix, France. He has a friend that owns an apartment there who has offered it up for a week if we wanted to go. I aspired to make a euro trip at the onset of the year and this was the ignition of the wick. At the time I was in the middle of my North American road trip and the only question was weather or not I would drive all the way back home to Vegas or leave my car with a friend somewhere along the way. I made a call to my friend Shawn that lives in Seattle and asked if he has a spot I can keep my car for a few months. With a yes answer the wheels were in motion and my European travel plans began to take shape. And here we are.

After 2 weeks of country hopping Matt and I met up in Chamonix determined to make waves (carve snow). To this point I’ve traveled through the Himalayas, Andes, Southern Alps of New Zealand, Colorado Rockies, Canadian Rockies and Sierra Nevada’s. Some of the mountain views we were afforded in the French Alps were the best I’ve ever seen and put definition to the word awe-some. We went riding at 3 of the areas famed mountains on wide open runs above the tree line and although the snow wasn’t the ideal conditions the scenery plain couldn’t have been better.

One thing the European ski scene is renowned for is the much celebrated après ski. Après simply translates to “after”. It’s arguably as important, if not more important, than the actual skiing itself. Because of the walking and/or public transport culture people can let loose at the end of a day without burden of driving home. Resort towns have streets lined with après ski watering holes and people will come still in gear, ski boots and all, to tip a few (or several) back. I’ve heard of people going as far as dressing up in full ski gear, skipping the day on the mountain entirely, and heading straight for the pub as if they rode all day. I’m reminded of a friend that lived in Miami who admitted to not being able to surf, so instead would work out all morning then offer to wax his friends surf boards on the beach in the afternoon as an icebreaker to meet ladies. According to him it worked like magic. Matt and I didn’t fake anything and got our money’s worth on the slopes, but definitely enjoyed the festive atmosphere when the lifts closed as well.

As already confirmed and reconfirmed several times over the French know how to enjoy themselves and I applaud them for it. Not only for afternoon drinks, but degustation as well and we didn’t have 1 mediocre meal the entire week there. A handful of spots were suggested by our gracious host Penny and several places we just stumbled upon ourselves. We weren’t sure if we just had luck, or perhaps a good eye for a happening restaurant, or if the explanation was more simple than that and every place there just served amazing food. As much as we’d both probably like to take credit, I think the answer is the latter. Fondue can be found in almost every restaurant as can my personal kryptonite foie gras. After an afternoon of après ski we found our gluttonous selves swimming in everything from duck confit, steak tartare, escargot, pizza, crapes, cheese, wine and piles and piles of bread. On our last day on the mountain we took the route down to the Swiss side of the alps where, for lunch, we shared a 800g (28 oz) steak slab. I normally avoid sauces with steaks but couldn’t believe my hungry eyes when the mushroom sauce came out with stacks of the unbelievably delectable morel mushrooms. For the most part I avoided smearing my steak with it and just took it by the spoonful like a fat kid. That, in combination with the approximate pound of foie gras throughout the week, took my desire for getting back to a regular workout regimen, to an all out red alert necessity.

Bob