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#Hostellerie
photos-de-france · 4 months
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Hostellerie de la Poste à Avallon, Yonne, 1960s.
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amatesura · 2 years
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courtyard of Hostellerie de la Poste
A Treasury of Great Recipes by Mary Grant Price and Vincent Price, 1965
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hotelbooking · 3 months
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Hostellerie Saint Antoine Enjoy all that Albi has with a stay at All offerings provided by Feel like doing nothing? Available services like daily housekeeping let you get the most out of your time at A range of amenities is offered in guestrooms at Each morning you can start the day with a delicious in-house breakfast offered at A day in will be as fun as a day out with ranges of recreational activities offered at Find incredible value for money here, which is ranked better than 98% of the city's accommodation. Compared to the city's accommodation options, this hotel scored higher than 99% of them for food and dining. According to guests who stayed here, this hotel's room comfort is rated higher than 99% of other accommodations in Albi.
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dijonbeaune · 9 months
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Hep sommelier ! Quel vin avec un tartare de truite ?
« Hep sommelier ! » est de retour sur DijonBeaune.fr. Régulièrement, des sommeliers de la région vous donneront leurs trucs et astuces sur le vin. Cette semaine, Maxime Brunet vous propose de préparer un tartare de truite. Le sommelier de l’Hostellerie du Chapeau Rouge** à Dijon vous a concocté des accords mets et vins au couteau ! Par Maxime Brunet Pas envie de viande ? C’est parti pour un…
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lolaloveschampagne · 2 years
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Een weekendje Vertus.
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Jean Fous - Hostellerie à la fontaine (n.d.)
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antigonegone · 1 month
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Retour à la case départ, vous avez gagné 20.000. Hier soir, après un déplacement professionnel, pas très loin en km mais long en temps, mes chefs me proposaient de me reconduire au siège, dans le 8ème quand, en passant porte Dauphine, mon coeur s’est arrêté, devant ma vieille école, (figée sous les néons et mes pupilles dilatées), et le tram 3b qui semblait circuler, prêt à me conduire jusqu’à mon nid en passant par le précédent. A ma demande, mon chauffeur et sa co-pilote m’ont déposée en double file, avenue Foch et me voilà sur la route d’un nouvel heureux hasard. Je marche jusqu’au boulevard de Lattre de Tassigny, et hèle un chauffeur de tram qui s’apprête à partir à vide. Sans grande surprise, il me répond qu’ils finalisent leurs essais. L’ouverture de la prolongation de la ligne de tram 3b est prévue le 5 avril. Rien d’ennuyeux, j’ai pris la ligne 2 du métro depuis son terminus ou son point de départ à l’ouest, porte Dauphine, comme la 1ère fois il y a plus de 36 ans…Dans le wagon, des jeunes étudiants, et un début de week-end qui s’annonce calme, après une fin de semaine passionnante qui donne la patate. Jeudi en allant avenue de Wagram Provins : nuit à l’hôtel César et dîner professionnel dans la plus vieille hostellerie de France toujours en activité depuis 1270
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latribune · 4 months
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tafelenmetton · 1 year
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Smulgerechten (en wijnen) bij Beau
WICC/restaurant Beau, Lawickse Allee 9, 6701 AN Wageningen, 0317 490 133, [email protected]. Brasserie dagelijks geopend, Beau fine dining open op do-vrij-zat vanaf 17:00 uur. P voor de deur
 Wagenings WICC verrast met topkeuken
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 Complete verrassing in de binnenstad van Wageningen: het WICC met zijn inpandige restaurant ‘Beau’. Bedacht, gedreven en gebouwd – nou ja, verbouwd – door het jonge ondernemerspaar Steff (40) en Jessica de Groot (36). Een eigentijds geoutilleerd gebouw met 26 (conferentie)zalen en 208 hotelkamers waarvan ruim de helft ‘singlerooms’. Plus een voor iedereen toegankelijk restaurant (“genoemd naar onze dochter Beau”) waar op ster-niveau wordt gekookt.
Vijf jaar zitten ze nu hier, hij werkte in de auto-leasebranche, zij had een damesmodezaak en werkte bij Jan des Bouvrie als interieur-ontwerper. Ze verrichtten afbeulwerk om het oude, vervallen gastarbeidershotel te renoveren (“handen uit de mouwen, eelt op je rug en breken maar; het was een soort ‘Ik vertrek’, maar dan in Nederland”).
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Twee jaar deden ze er over, terwijl de partijen en vergaderingen gewoon doorgingen (“ze bleven maar komen”). Na anderhalf jaar bekroond met een volledig verbouwd restaurant en een nieuwe keuken. De housekeeping en de catering hadden ze al die tijd uitbesteed, maar nu konden ze het weer zelf ter hand nemen.
Chef-kok Nouredine Bahaj (44) trad aan als executive en daarmee was restaurant Beau compleet. Hij werkte in het management van een Valkhotel en kookte eerder in Chalet Royal, Boreas, Vermeer, De Hamert en Hostellerie Vangaelen.Topzaken dus, veelal met ster(ren). 
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Als welkomsthapje presenteert hij een oublie met tonijn, yuzu en kaviaar, gevolgd door een opmerkelijk gerecht van wagyuvlees.
Een rechtopstaande rouleau van rode biet op eetbare moutaarde, gevuld met tartaar van het exclusieve rundvlees, met de hand gesneden en op smaak gebracht met truffel, olijfolie en peper en zout. Mooie aardse smaken.
Maître Ruurd schenkt er smakelijke Grüner Veltiner bij uit Nieuw-Zeeland (Yealands, 2018): fris en sappig.
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Hartzwezerik is het tussengerecht. Een etmaal lang ingelegd in yoghurt en melk, daarna gepocheerd en tenslotte gebakken in roomboter. Zo hoort zwezerik te smaken: krokant van buiten, superzacht van binnen.
Opgediend met een garnituur van wortel (gel, crème en door hazelnootpoeder gehaald en gebakken). En een verrukkelijk jus getrokken van kalfsbotten en met argan-olie, specerijen, kaneel en kardemom, ingekookt in de tagine. Ruurd schenkt nu een rode Zuid-Afrikaan (Nederburg, Paarl, 2018) van puur shiraz-druiven. Perfecte combinatie van smaken.
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Gastvrouw Tessa parkeert dan het hoofdgerecht op het witte tafellinnen: Anjouduif. Aangebraden in olie en op lage temperatuur door-gegaard in boter.
Supermals en met een subtiel wildsmaakje geserveerd met een molé van Mexicaanse peper, limoen, specerijen en chocola, plus gebrande prei, ingelegde bietjes, meringues van yuzu en van chocola, en aardappelkoek. En een jus van het braadvocht van de duif, ingekookt met rode wijn en kruidenbouquet, gemonteerd met klontjes boter. Heerlijk! Onvermoed goed combinerend met het glas Zuid-Franse Banyuls (Valcros, hors d’age).
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Tot slot de zoete combinatie van soufflé van vanille en kwark, en ijs van chocolade met citroenmarmelade. Bij een lichtzoet glas Italiaanse Dolce Donna van rode moscato.
Grote klasse.     
TON DE ZEEUW
#Tafelen met Ton / Beau, topkeuken in  Wageningen
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camy-s-diary · 2 years
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what dreams are made of 🧖‍♀️📚🤍 #spaday #girlsday #friends #babes #spa #spaalsace #relax #hostelleriedeschateaux (at Hostellerie des Châteaux & Spa) https://www.instagram.com/p/CiQImAmtiHB/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=
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adhamhocaoimh · 2 years
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Poor Murdered Pablo • Smoked Bulbinella • Bormes les Mimosas • The Allotments of Fate • Witness/Paticipant • The Old Way • Poetry • Heartsick
It’s a nod to Neruda I suppose. He always wrote in green, you know. To poor murdered Pablo, green was the colour of hope, Ruadhrí explained. I suppose I felt an affinity with Neruda. We served the same interests, if not the same perspective. While he had hope, I had regret. We were looking at the very same concern, he in the waiting and I in the nostalgia. So I chose blue in greens place.
A dull report of heavy rain murmured across the thatch of the lodge whilst they sat in the lamplit drawingroom after dark. As the poet rested against his palm Caleb pushed a thumb against the back of his blade following the grain of a piece of pinewood.
As in feeling blue? Having the blues? he asked, bringing the knife up on its edge and smoothed out a curl and carved a bend. Woodshavings fell to the floor in a slow and spiralling descent.
Partly. Blue is also a colour of sincerity. Tranquility. I suppose I always saw something regal in it. I would have named her queen were she mine to name. Alas, a loss, Ruadhrí replied, looking first to a tiny bottle of bloodbrown tincture and then back to his thirsty glass. He filled the tumbler with Caol Ila, pale as bulbinella. He drained it and filled it again. It's difficult to capture the beauty of the woman. Not a woman. The woman. The woman that one has spent a lifetime regretting was not a part of his life.
Why did you leave? His face furrowing, Caleb brought the point of the blade to one side of the ellipse he had shaped and delicately engraved a tiny almond. He looked to his companion and asked, Or did she quit you?
The poet sighed.
In the end we left each other I suppose.Though it was my hubris. My youth. My stupidity. We had been living in Bormes les Mimosas, young lovers and had been inseperable for years. I wrote feverishly but fruitlessly. She, a waitress at a local café. We were fast approaching the beginnings of poverty, and she had been reasonable long enough. Or unreasonably patient with me and my years of lunacy. My appetites for oblivion had held me hostage for a long while whilst I held her as my consenting captive. She confronted me in the shade of a great palm tree upon a corner between Place Gambetta and Rue Jean Aicard, not far from the Hostellerie du Cigalou. It was approaching midday and I had already drank away the hangover, and then some more. She was upset. She was concerned. As she had every right to be. And I was not to reasoned with.
The poet paused a moment, seemingly searching the tumbler he handled before drinking it down again. Reaching for the bottle he said, She struck me. I spat blood at her. The last I saw of her she was turning a bend at Boulevard de la République with a handkerchief at her face. For the blood or for tears I cannot say.
Caleb stopped carving. More wisps of pine peeled to the floor.
Of course, I came to realise what I had done. I waited for her return. Or some word. Or some letter. After a month had passed she arrived only to leave with her things. I wept. She kissed me. She said that she needed to leave. She told me to look for her some years later. I, being callow and wounded did not even walk her to the door. Neruda would never have been so rude.
Ruadhrí looked from the scotch swirling in his palm to the remnant embers in the hearth. He rose to throw on more kindling.
And of course, looking for her was as worthless as the waiting. I sold my first collection a year after I realised she wouldn't be coming home. Abject poverty and perfect misery I suppose were not without their advantages. Though if It were mine to do I would trade every word. It seems a terrible cruelty, fate and its allotments.
He retook his seat at they both sat for some time in the semidark. Caleb finished scratching at a now herringboned pine wing.
I never had much faith in fate.
The old man chuckled, sipping at his drink.
Fate is what you will console yourself with when you become a witness, instead of a participant.
A witness? he asked as he blew wooddust that arced from the feathered and arching wing and held it at eyelevel against the fire.
You can become a witness in two ways. One will either sicken or age and become less useful. That or one will become useless through pain. Simply give up. Embrace whatever thing hunts them and let it savage away. One hands ones life away. Life never comes back to you. You have let it leave and so you watch it vanish but from the moment you unhand your hand from its hand, there is no way to bring it back.
In whatever case, you become the kind of uselessness that people think to throw away. Did you know amongst some of the nomads there were members of the tribe tasked with putting the few who were falling behind out of their misery? It was a kindness, I suppose.
Caleb set down the halfbird and turned toward Ruadhrí. He took a glass of his own up to his nose and breathed in the whisky. It was floral smoke. On his tongue it was pear and caramel. The poet filled his own.
You're just full of wonderful, terrible specifics old man.
I am only a poet. We most usually are well read. Didion once said that we tell ourselves stories in order to live. I barely even tell stories. I pen unclear allusions and obscure meanings in a desperate plea to say the same thing over and again in some vague hope that she will hear it or read it and know it was for her. Even now after all of those words I am still to say the thing I truly needed to say. Which is of course that I am sorry. I am sorry that I failed you. No more and no less. Were I to do so nobody would print it and nobody would buy it so nobody would read it and she would still never hear it. Could I, I would have drafted a letter and mailed it to the city where she lived if I only knew the city or if I only knew she would want to hear it.
The old man looked back to the fireplace and his eyes seemed glasslike and Caleb thought it a deep bloodless wound that held the old timer. Nursing his tumbler he held that for all the fussy aesthetics and blue ink on blue pages from a pen as old as he himself was that the poet was like any other man or other soul who let something go they shouldn't have.
Maybe I just don't understand poetry.
In the moment the poet looked back he seemed so much older. Words are just words. Poetry is another matter. If there has not been been a poetry in man since before man had words then there was a need for it for there was a use for it. To try and give a form to formless things.
Seems to me a lot of useless longing to measure.
Ruadhrí shook his head and drank down his scotch. If there was a word deeper than love I would said it and as there was not I had to try and name it. But every name I gave it was just her name. I'm not sure that women can know those kinds of things or if they simply carry it better. Usually because in that light they've turned their eyes to better men. Men who don't have to miss them.
Caleb looked back to his carving for a moment, Maybe they've figured out there's no use in going around heartsick.
Ruadhrí, inebriate, cradled his head against his wrist and filled another glass of Caol Ila. The wet around his eyes disappeared into deepening crevasses pooling coaldark under the lamplight.
So. We become our consequences. We become what happened yesterday.
Caleb, my friend, we will all become something that happened yesterday, regardless.
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seenthroughmylens · 2 years
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#walkingthedog #vacaytime #bythesideoftheroad #hello # goeiemorgen #goodmorning #godmorgon #bonjour #gutenmorgen #buongiorno #bomdia #buenosdias #dobrojutro #goodmorningworld #kalimera #gooandaginn #godmorgen #dziendobry #dobrerano #günaydın #onepicaday #belgianphotographer #hobbyphotograper #myhappyplace #kleingelukske #photography #nature #depthoffield https://seenthroughmylens.tumblr.com/ (bij Hostellerie de la Chapelle) https://www.instagram.com/p/Cf8R5YmsnMV/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=
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cmwinternational · 2 years
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Pérouges // Hostellerie Du Vieux Pérouges // Oh France, You’re So Pretty
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earaercircular · 2 years
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Beaune's artisanal vinegar factory reaps the benefits of oenological recycling
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The recycling of wine and other oenological products launched by the winegrower Jean-Luc Maldant, in Chorey-les-Beaune, allows winemakers and merchants to dispose of their polluting residues and, in the meantime, to develop a product whose consumption is in rise. With the health crisis over, business partnerships are taking off.
Launched just before the health crisis, the artisanal vinegar factory in Beaune, in the Côte d'Or department (France), took advantage of the sluggish activity of restaurants to refine its offer, and it is beginning to reap the benefits of the partnerships forged when the activities resumed .
After signing a commercial agreement with the Marseille-based restaurant Une table au Sud, with the Hostellerie du Chapeau Rouge by William Frachot in Dijon, or with Géranium, the three-star Danish restaurant with a Bocuse d'Or reward, the house has just launched an agreement with Les Trois Brasseurs[1] for the development of specific vinegars based upon… beer excesses for its franchise restaurants!
Several initiatives
"Oenological recycling includes wine, beer and mead", explains Jean-Luc Maldant, the owner of the Maldant-Pauvelot estate in Chorey-les-Beaune, at the foot of the Corton hill, who is at the origin of this artisanal vinegar factory. Because this is its purpose: to recycle and enhance Burgundy wines and other alcoholic beverages intended for destruction (production surpluses, tasting leftovers, lower quality products). “The distillation residues contaminate the water and are dangerous,” he explains.
After having created his own organic label, "bio advance", so as not to depend on a Parisian audit office, he defends, and after having first focused on the quality of the culture, Jean-Luc Maldant had wanted to focus on the depollution of the oenological part of the profession.
Project in Luxembourg
Having noted that the world vinegar market is doing well, with growth of 7% per year for the last ten years, he has thus undertaken to "clean up the sector" by creating this recycling centre, in partnership with the Bureau interprofessionnel des vins de Bourgogne ( BIVB)[2] and Siqocert[3], the Burgundy and Beaujolais AOC inspection and certification body[4].
Based in Chorey-les-Beaune, its artisanal vinegar factory uses recycled cooperage wood and has developed different ranges: balsamic, premium, organic, fruit, herbs, roots and tubers... The company produced 1,200 hectolitres in 2021 for a turnover of 70,000 euros, and is aiming for 3 million euros within five years.
“We could be four times bigger, we also make it possible to make our suppliers green”, underlines Jean-Luc Maldant, who is already in discussion to set up another recycling and vinegar factory in Luxembourg, less than 300 kilometres from the vineyards of Burgundy, Champagne , Moselle, Alsace, Belgium… which could also recycle their wine residues.
Source
Monique Clemens : La vinaigrerie artisanale de Beaune récolte les fruits du recyclage œnologique, in : Les Echos, 17-6-2022, https://www.lesechos.fr/pme-regions/bourgogne-franche-comte/la-vinaigrerie-artisanale-de-beaune-recolte-les-fruits-du-recyclage-oenologique-1414076
[1] Les 3 Brasseurs is a French catering company specializing in microbrewery and which produces its own beer of the same name on site. https://www.3brasseurs.com/restaurants-3brasseurs
[2] The Bureau interprofessionnel des Vins de Bourgogne (BIVB) is an interprofessional organisation bringing together professionals from the Burgundy vineyards. https://www.vins-bourgogne.fr/qui-sommes-nous/le-bivb-porte-parole-des-professionnels-des-vins-de-bourgogne,2305,9291.html
[3] SIQO for Quality and Origin Identification Sign and CERT for certification. It is the external inspection and certification body for Burgundy and Beaujolais AOCs and PGIs, born from the merger of CIBAS and ICONE. http://www.siqocert.fr/pages/qui-sommes-nous.php
[4] SIQOCERT: a single inspection body. Following the reform of the control of quality signs, Burgundy and Beaujolais had each created their control body: ICONE and CIBAS in order to ensure compliance by operators with the specifications of wine AOCs. https://www.lejsl.com/actualite/2014/06/09/siqocert-un-organisme-de-controle-unique
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Pouzilhac, Gard.
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iriseslonging · 4 years
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Hostellerie La Briqueterie by Ann Street Studio
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