My wife and I went to
La Tasca this evening, after an afternoon at the cinema watching
the latest Harry Potter movie. The meal was delicious, but I left somewhat hungry. La
Tasca is a Spanish restaurant specialised in tapas, which are maybe a bit small. Or I am just too greedy. That said, the mousse
au chocolat was to die for.
I have never been that much into Spain or Spanish culture, I love Spain through two operas set in Seville, Carmen and Don Giovanni, the first in French, the second in Italian. However I do like the idea of
tapas. It's like eating six or seven different meals at once. Eating in this particular La
Tasca was quite nice, regardless of food quality/quantity. The restaurant was in an all new part of town, it had a modern furniture that did not look like a glorified canteen, there was a Spanish exoticism presence without being too tacky and the wide windows let the light of this sunny summer evening get in without leaving us blinded by it. Whatever I said about the food, the dinner certainly did not lack in atmosphere.
I take lots of pleasure in life simply by the atmosphere of some situations. It has something to do with my wild imagination, I think. Eating the same meal is very different in a rustic restaurant than a trendy one. You are experiencing something as much as eating. Sometimes you feel like you are a character in
The Godfather, or some
hardboiled fiction, or something of the sort. Same goes with pubs: the feeling is different when you have a beer in an old man's pub (as my wife calls them) or a modern one. I usually feel out of place in both, but I often prefer old man's pubs as it makes me feel younger. When
you travel to Brocéliande, whatever happens during your trip you will be filled by the
otherworldly atmosphere of the place. Some books are perfect for rainy days and I prefer to read horror stories in Autumn, especially when it is cold and dry outside (and even better when it is windy). When
the last book of the Harry Potter series was released, I bought it the very night (I thought I would do it, being in England at the time and all). Summer 2007 was a very bad one, always rainy and windy, and this night was no exception: it was cool, sometimes rainy and the wind was blowing madly. It was as if the weather had decided to fit the dark tone of the novel for its release. Reading any other book of the series, I never had as much pleasure than I had reading the first few chapters of
The Deathly Hallows that night. The time/timing was just perfect.
And this evening, after the meal, I spent a few minutes outside watching darkness slowly falling. Summer evenings are the best, I think, when daylights are getting dim and taking those dark orange colours, while shadows are growing around you. Summer has evenings full of atmosphere and I love them.