As they had bought eggs receotly, I made omelet for breakfast.

For an easy outing, Jacquie suggested the Chirac museum, which
displays the stuff that was given to Jacques Chirac while he was
prime minister and later president of France. As I am not a fan
of Chirac nor of bling and fancy cars in general, I demurred
until Lilli noted that there was a decent restaurant on premises.

So around lunchtime we found ourselves an hour north of home on a
brilliant day a bit warmer than normal. The GPS got us there
handily. It's a pretty standard-issue restaurant; you can dine
in or out. I strenuously wanted to eat inside; Lilli equally
strenuously outside, so outside it was. After a few minutes, it
was deemed too sunny, so an umbrella was called for and positioned
just so. Guess whose seat remained in full sun.

The food is an amazing deal. Swisher had the formule of main course
and dessert for 12. This was 200 g of shell sirloin, rare, with
salad and fries and then apple tart with ice cream for dessert.

Lilli, having had a big breakfast, had just the cheese board, a
Cantalesque as before at home, a tomme as before at home, and
a bleu d'Auvergne that she found nasty but I didn't really mind so
much - to me it was like chalky cheese with artificial coloring.
Describing it to Ian later, he suggested that it might actually
have been from Denmark.

I had the gizzard salad with a side of foie gras, almost tripling
the price. A modest serving of greens with a few walnuts mixed in
and maybe 6 oz of confit gizzards, with a slice of pate de foie
gras perched on top. I didn't see this so asked after the foie
gras, which the waitress smilingly pointed to. The gizzards were
good, from a good jar or maybe can; the greens were fresh, the
walnuts not quite so. Pate de foie gras was pate de foie gras,
a decent commercial product.

A half liter of Pays d'Oc red was cheap and quenching. I forget if
Swisher had a beer, probably not as he was driving.

After lunch, it was time for the main event, so Lilli toddled off
to the museum, followed by ... no one. Swisher followed my lead
and stayed put at the restaurant. I moved over to get rid of
some of the sunlight and ordered a half carafe of Pays d'Oc rose,
which came a full carafe, which was fine, because it was cheap,
and Lilli came back inside an hour and was thirsty.

Apparently some of the bling was worth seeing, and she is fond of
all things shiny, but there's only so much you can take.

Swisher had an iced tea - turned out to be called Limousine and was
made by our friend Mespoulet in Argentat, five miles from Ian's.

I got the bill and noted that the foie gras was not listed. On
inquiry, the reply was "c'est gratuit, monsieur." On the house.

A jollyish trip back, and again the GPS tried to send us in the
wrong direction around Tulle. I was beyond caring and don't recall
if we chose my way or the byway.
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