The Salmon Omelet

Thursday March 22nd.  Well I have yet to figure out how to put recipes on the side bar of this blog, but I will continue to work at it until I conquer!  Last night I began to organize all my diaries from the 14 trips and have found some great places to visit and recipes to share that I had forgotten about.  Our first food delight was a wonderful salmon omelet in a Paris restaurant called Le Mule de Pape, translated to The Mule of the Pope. It was our very first night in Paris before traveling down the Rhone to Avignon by TGV (the fast train). I was queasy after the flight and this charming little restaurant with the tremendous fresh floral display in the middle of the entrance beckoned us in to its charms.  I explained (if you have played charades you know what I mean) to the handsome waiter I had an upset stomach and wanted something mild. AhAh! he knew what I wanted! A very light salad of bibb lettuce with a very fine olive oil dressing arrived with the fluffliest omelet I have ever enjoyed, and warm, crusty REAL French baguette. Tres Magnificant. 
Sadly this restaurant is out of business a we have tried to return on subsequent visits to paris.  But all in all it is a very fond memory and I have tried to duplicate the omelet, coming close but then the mind improves good things each passing year. Maybe I have achieved a match but expect it to be a tad better due to mind tricks.  I do know if you add just a touch of ice cold water to your beaten egg just before pouring it into the buttered omelet pan it is lighter and raises higher, if not mangled in the flip.  In France omelets are seved for both lunch and supper, where in the US we just think of them as breakfast food.  I always rejoice when I see an omelet on a dinner menu here in the USA, and usually order it also.
We stayed that first night near the Le Bastille, which is also near the TGV Gare de Lyon station to assure ourselves of actually finding the station in the morning.  If you ever plan to take the TGV from Paris to Avignon or points south, purchase your ticket stateside from the Internet and THEN make a reservation. Having a ticket is not the same as having a seat.  Moving from seat to seat and car to car while traveling faster than the speed of sound to relinquish ones seat to an actual ticket/reservation holder isn't fun.  A ticket just assures you entrance to the train. A reservation allows you to actually sit down and relax, pull out your book, your bottle of wine and some cheese with a bit of bread and pretend you are a local. Even in second class there are handy little table trays to dine on with your carry- on snack.  Also when speeding down the track, avoid looking straight down next to the tracks. Doing so can cause your "snack" to reappear, unless you have an iron clad stomach and motion sickness has never been an issue.  Instead look out to the countryside and marvel at the quaint villages, fields of vibrant yellow mustard and golden wheat. Vineyards will appear in the distance and orchards abound. You become lulled to sleep and the next thing you know you have arrived in Provence! Bonjour Provence!