The perfect ending to a perfect day. Ostensibly the oldest brasserie in all of Bordeaux, Brasserie l’Orleans is located about a wine bottle’s throw from our hotel – but only coarse, ill-bred, barbarians (Americans) would even consider throwing a wine bottle (after all, the French theory goes, there might still be some drinkable wine in it).

We spent a very pleasant day visiting some of the chateaux on the left bank and assisting them in reducing their excess inventory so that they could bottle the 2012 contents of their aging vats when the bottling truck arrives. (Ah-ha! Mise en boutille au chateau doesn’t mean what you thought it did – don’t feel bad, I was taken aback too. More about the great Medoc wine spree in another piece later.)

Apertifs, Kir Royale for Milady and Whisky Superieur for me, were just what we needed after a strenuous day of wine-tasting at some of Bordeaux most demanding vineyards. Complex wines with nuances above my comprehension demand serious appreciation, which was duly rendered but such appreciation can be physically demanding, challenging the stamina of even the most oenologically fit. A little whisky or a kir soothes away all those stresses and leaves only the hard-won feeling of accomplishment just prior to dinner.

The appetizers were a rosy red beef carpaccio with a “rocket” salad and shaved parmesan and a trickle of balsamic vinaigrette and an asiette de jambon with grilled toast and fresh mustard.

The meats were so thinly sliced I could imagine the sun shining through them (if it hadn’t been drizzling on and off all day). The “rocket” salad was actually the anticipated arugala (someone, somewhere, somewhen translated it from Italian into English exactly that way and it stuck) salad, delicious and the generously shaved parmesan had just the right bite. The thinly sliced ham was silky with just the right amount of fat – I think great ham is the Euro-equivalent of great bacon, ubiquitous and deeply satisfying.

We chose the noisettes of lamb for our main course, and were stunned by how good they were. Three perfectly sized, perfectly cooked (again, ordered saignant and served exactly that way) tournedos of French lamb bedded on thin sliced rounds of roasted potato. Nothing interfered with our appreciation of the meat. French lamb has a distinctive, meadowy flavor. You can almost smell the grass which sustained the creature. It is virtually fat-free and tender. Oh, to be able to get such a marvel at home.

We finished with a suite of hazelnut, crème caramel and chocolate ice creams – about which the less said, the better. They were so good that if I think about them I’ll drool all over the keyboard and short it out. Milady indulged in the local pastry delicacy, caneles, and was overjoy with joy.

A place we can recommend very highly – and would, if anyone asked.