The Modern Trobadors

JOËL DURAND SENDS US CHOCOLATES

2012-01-29T12:05:00.000-05:00

Second of a two-part article.

These chocolates are so delicious that most people say, 'They are to die for.' I would say, 'They are to live for.' Hope for a good long life, so you can try every one.

--My mother, 80-something

C'est arrivé. The chocolates arrived just in time for my mother's birthday. They were carefully packed with the knowledge that they would be traveling far from Saint-Remy-de-Provence and they arrived in perfect condition.

Regular readers of The Modern Trobadors may recall that, last week, I wrote about my favorite chocolates in Provence: Joël Durand's L'Alphabet des Saveurs. We have been to this renown chocolatier’s small, rather unassuming shop in the Provençal town St. Remy many times but had never ordered them. In August, when we last dropped by to pick up chocolates, the sales associate reminded us of this option as she packed our tall stack of boxes that would soon be squeezed into our suitcases to cross the Atlantic.

"It just takes two days," she said, "and depending on your travel plans, the chocolates may arrive in better shape."

Freshness is key to enjoying these luscious squares of chocolates. They should be enjoyed right away and, according to Durand, never past three weeks. In our family, a Durand chocolate has never waited three weeks to be eaten, so I wouldn't know what it would taste like. My advice is that short of eating them in the shop or in the car on the way home, they should be eaten right away, when they are their freshest and tastiest.

It was my mother's birthday, she loves Durand's chocolates, so we thought it was a wonderful occasion to place an order and see how it goes.

The first step is to visit their website: http://www.joel-durand-chocolatier.fr/ . (Make sure you use this link because there is 2nd store website that does not allow USA orders!) There you can view your options for box size (number of chocolates) and flavors. We knew we wanted the 48-piece box because it was the right size for the small crowd descending on my mother for her birthday. Also, it is important to note that the minimum cost for shipping to the States is 20 euros, which is for packages under a kilo. A box of 48 chocolates costs 32 euros and weighs 0.6 kilos, for a total of 52 euros.

Orders placed outside of France can be placed via the website but it is not always reliable (as we discovered). If you are having problems with the website, orders can be placed on the telephone (from USA, dial 011 33 4 90 92 38 25). My husband, who is blessed with fluent French and whose gift it was to my mother, made the call. But, he learned that the two women who take the orders both speak English fluently; so it is not necessary to speak French.

Although one can place an order at any time during business hours, all orders are filled and packaged between 9:30 a.m. and 12:30 p.m. (French time) for the 12:30 p.m. FedEx pick-up.

Plan on two days for the trip across the Atlantic, not counting Sundays. For example, my husband placed the order on Friday for a Monday processing and they arrived on Wednesday afternoon in southern California.

Although my husband did not catch the name of the young woman who took his order, he did learn that she is a student and an ardent lover of Durand's chocolates. This very helpful young woman takes orders Wednesday through Friday mornings and recommended calling Wednesday morning (France time) to place an order!

L'Alphabet des Saveurs that we received were wonderful. My mother particularly enjoyed the “&”, a caramel and salted butter with black chocolate and ginger. She advises simply placing the chocolate on your tongue so that it will slowly melt, allowing you to "savor every bit of the flavor." My daughter loved the Caramel (C) and the Liquorice (S). My brother had too many favorites to mention--the first one he tasted was a Vanilla (D) to which he exclaimed, "WOW...very good...I'll have another!" Like my brother, my husband loves too many to mention although I will reveal that he always chooses Guyane (G), Gold Square (A), and the seasonal punctuation marks.

For me, there is not a Joël Durand chocolate that I would not enjoy. I do love the Caramel (C) and the Coffee (K) and every seasonal punctuation mark that's ever crossed my lips. The chocolates are rich and yet not heavy. Durand's herbal, floral, and spice infused fillings are delicate--they provide the perfect balance to the chocolate covering. I have never met a Joël Durand Alphabet of Flavour that I did not like!

The next time you are in Provence, St. Remy is definitely worth a visit. I especially recommend the Wednesday market and a visit to Saint-Paul Hospital where Vincent van Gogh was hospitalized in the late 19th century for psychiatric treatment and where he painted some of his most famous paintings. Les Baux-de-Provence, olive oil, santons, and wine tasting are all nearby. But, most importantly, stop by Joël Durand's chocolate shop.

By the way, with Valentine's Day around the corner, you may want to know that orders should be placed by February 8 to ensure a February 14 delivery. Those delectable squares of chocolates are a wonderful way to mark any occasion.

Joël Durand Chocolatier
3, Bd Victor-Hugo
Saint-Remy-de-Provence
011-33-4-90-92-38-25 (telephone, from the States)
www.joel-durand-chocolatier.fr

MY FAVORITE CHOCOLATIER IN PROVENCE

2012-01-22T16:16:00.001-05:00

First of two-part article

L'Alphabet des Saveurs chocolates Photo: 1j2M

Some of the best chocolates in the world hail from France. In Paris, I think of La Maison de Chocolat, JP Hévin, La Durée, Michel Chaudun. But it is to Provence that I would head for my favorite: the best chocolate in the region is made by Joël Durand in the small village of Saint-Remy-de-Provence.

We visited this alluring chocolate shop this past August. The number of times we have been drawn to Monsieur Durand's chocolate shop has long passed double digits. This time we were en route from Lourmarin, the Luberon village we have called our own for many years, to Arles...but the car knew where we really wanted to go.

We headed toward Boulevard Victor-Hugo, near the Place du Marché. The little shop is unassuming--one could easily pass by. But, with so many articles and accolades about this man and his chocolate, I suspect that...
most people have Joël Durand in their GPS.

The store looks more like an old fashioned pharmacy, with a cozy--bordering on cramped but ever-so pleasing--display of caramel sauces, chocolate bars, jams, cookies, cocoa, pralines, and, of course, L'Alphabet des Saveurs--the coveted chocolates.

"Bonjour Monsieur-Dame," the wholesomely attractive young woman greeted us and from that moment on, she was delightful--attentive and as patient as a saint--as we mulled over box sizes and which of the 32 chocolates to select for each one. Several groups of customers came and went while we deliberated...and enjoyed quite a few samples!

Durand opened his shop in St. Remy in 1996 although his culinary résumé really began years before. By the time he turned 18 years old, he had received diplomas in pastry, candy, chocolate, and ice cream and then opened a pastry and chocolate shop in Rennes. It was there that he began to explore the infusion of herbal, spice, and floral flavors with chocolate.

Durand continued to explore what were at the time these unique combinations of flavors and quickly became known for his Alphabet des Saveurs--Alphabet of Flavors--comprised of 26 ganache-filled chocolates, each one designated a letter of the alphabet, and 6 more chocolates that change with the seasons and are identified by punctuation marks.

So what to choose? Of course, the more traditional chocolates must be included: A is for Durand's Gold Square, a rich black chocolate (70%) cocoa; C is for Caramel, a sinful milk chocolate bite of "salted Brittany butter caramel"; D is for Vanilla, a luscious bite of 40% milk chocolate and Madagascar vanilla; K is for one of my favorites, Coffee; and M is for Fresh Mint.

We also want to include some of the more unusual fillings. E is for Earl-Grey; J is more Jasmine; L is for Lavender; R is for Rosemary; W is for Thyme; X is for Cardamome.

And then there are the unique combinations that probably propelled Durand’s chocolates on to the international map of chocolatiers: G is for Guyana, a milk chocolate of nutmeg, cinnamon,"sun-dried" Bourbon vanilla, and lemon peel; S is for Liquorice made of white chocolate and licorice stick; U is for Szechwan Pepper; Y is for Coffee and Barley.

Not surprisingly, there is also a P for Provence but who would have guessed that Durand would fill it with "Provence almonds praline" and black olives from nearby Les Baux Valley?

We had to include some of the seasonal favorites. In August, the square with the "comma" was filled with one of my favorites: a dark chocolate and very subtle fresh basil and the one with a "period" was filled with another one of my favorites: "caramel with salted butter and fresh verbena." My husband loved the "question mark" that was black chocolate with honey and tarragon.

Durand has many other appealing products. We usually save some room in our luggage for a couple of his caramel sauces and maybe some cocoa. This time we took home Durand's cookbook, "Ma Cuisine au Chocolat", which contains 100 sweet and savory recipes with chocolate. All of his products--and a full listing of "The Alphabet of Flavours"--may be found on his website: www.chocolat-durand.com .

Durand's "Ma cuisine au chocolat" cookbook

We returned to our car, loaded with boxes of chocolates to take home, some caramel sauces, and the book. There was also the bag of chocolates we bought for ourselves. I have to confess--but those of you who know Durand's chocolates will understand--that the bag was opened before we had the car in first gear and, uhhh, it was empty long before we got to Arles.

Joël Durand's luscious Creme Caramel with Lavender

Joël Durand's chocolates, in my humble opinion, are the best chocolates in Provence. Yes, I know Puyricard chocolates and I really, really like them, too, but my taste buds go crazy for those little squares with the gold letters and punctuation marks on them!

So, why not order some? My mother's birthday is around the corner--the reason I am in Southern California--and she loves Durand's chocolates. Hmmmm....

So we did order a box of chocolates. And, I will report back next week about how well placing an order for Joël Durand chocolates went and, of course, how the chocolates taste!

LONGING FOR BLACK TRUFFLES, CONSOLED BY FRAGRANT MEMORIES AND PATRICIA WELLS’ "SIMPLY TRUFFLES"

2012-01-15T09:27:00.001-05:00

The Mass for the Truffles in Richerenches

Today is the third Sunday in January, otherwise known as “The Mass for the Truffles” in Richerenches: the annual blessing, auction, and feast of the black truffle. We’ve been there, huddled among the masses in the tiny church to witness baskets of black diamonds offered up to be blessed, walked with the parade of people to the Hôtel de Ville where our successful bids put several truffles in our pockets, and relished in the glory of a lavish meal devoted to the beloved Tuber melanosporum.

I wish I were there now. But, alas, I am content with the memory of that chilly January day several years ago and consoled—okay, I am trying—by the scent of truffle wafting out from my kitchen where my husband is preparing our version of Patricia Well’s “Artichoke Soup with Parmesan and Truffles” and her “Spaghetti with Parmesan and Truffle Butter,” neither of which will actually have the benefit of a French black truffle, the absence of which explains why I must put an element of effort into consoling myself. But, I am getting ahead of myself….At least I have a lovely and very informative new cookbook on the subject and know that a delicious meal is imminent!

Patricia Wells Library chez nous

Patricia Wells, famed cook and cooking teacher of French food, particularly that which hails from Provence, and author of a dozen cookbooks on that cuisine, many of which line the shelves of my bookcase, has written a new cook book: Simply Truffles.

Simply Truffles, Patricia Wells' latest cookbook

The full title of Ms. Wells’ new book aptly continues: Recipes and Stories that Capture the Essence of the Black Diamond. It is not surprising that she begins her...
collection of recipes and stories with a full-page photograph of the Saturday truffle market at Richerenches. So much of the world of the French black truffle—le truffe noir--begins in this small village.

Village of Richerenches, a destination for Truffle lovers

Richerenches, an inviting village about an hour north of Lourmarin (where we hang our hats when we go to Provence), is home to the internationally acclaimed truffle market every Saturday morning from mid-November to mid-March. It has also rolled out the red carpet for the Brotherhood of the Knights of the Black Diamond and all lovers of black truffles for the Blessing of the Truffle since 1946. While there are truffle markets and festivals elsewhere in Provence, none is more revered or more famous.

Tuber Melanosporum

About 80% of France’s black truffles are supplied from cultivators and foragers in Provence, and most of that comes from the Vaucluse département . Note that this same black truffle is also referred to as the Périgord truffle (see our earlier article for an explanation) and by the Provençal term, rabasse. It is increasingly referred to by the rather generic term, “winter truffle,” as it also comes from Spain, Italy, Croatia, and parts of Australia. In fact, if you should order a fresh “winter truffle” online—the only place where I could find one, within a 75 mile radius of our home in Portsmouth, New Hampshire—and inquire about its provenance, you will likely be informed that it could come from France, Italy, or Spain. I would put my money on Spain (and say my prayers that it wasn’t from China whose inferior “truffles” sell for a tiny fraction of the cost of the real deal but are increasingly being pawned off as French black truffles).

Actually, according to Mark Stanvick, who, with wife Heidi Stanvick, imported black truffles from Europe to the States for several years before opening their culinary condiment business, Vervacious, “[A]n enormous percentage of “French” truffles cross the Spanish border [into France] in the trunks of cars in the middle of the night.” He likens this truffle switcheroo to “the recent kerfuffle over the Italian olive oil forgery.”

On the subject of Chinese truffles, Mark explained that that truffle is not a Tuber melanosporum, but rather a Tuber indicum. “[It] looks exactly like a true black truffle but has no odor.” Or taste!

In a recent telephone conversation with Artur, our truffle-hunting friend in Provence who procures truffles for top restaurants in the area and whom we wrote about in an earlier post on truffles, he confirmed that the influx of cheap Chinese truffles into the French truffle market is a growing problem. “They are completely inferior,” he said. He went on to say that unsavory vendors will add a few of the Chinese truffles to a bag of French truffles so that they absorb the distinctive Tuber melanosporum odor that will last long enough to sell them. Then the buyer gets home and there is little aroma and no taste!

In France, penalties for those sellers or restaurateurs who engage in such fraud can range from a couple hundred euros to up to 15,000 euros, but the culinary flogging that accompanies the fine might be a stronger deterrent: a public posting of their fraudulent activities.

So, when one is not in Richerenches, what does one do?

A successful day at the Truffle auction

I first consulted the Stanvicks and found out that they were not importing truffles this year. They run a top-notch, high-end import business, catering to people who are hard to please—both home cooks and top-rated chefs—who demand the freshest possible Tuber melanosporum. Heidi and Mark would buy directly from the source. “Never a middleman,” Mark emphasized, “and we [would]buy them in person, fly them back and then ship them to customers in a really tight time window which is why our truffles [were] so much better than the huge houses [that sell retail and are online].”

A Truffle Dog at work for the Stanvicks!

I next consulted D’Artagnan but found their prices very high--$125 an ounce plus shipping—and I could not be guaranteed the source of the truffle.

I had expected higher prices this year because when I was in Provence this past fall, talk was that it would not be a bountiful truffle season again due to lack of rain. Last season, the harvest was a disappointing 25 tonnes (a tonne, also known as a metric ton, is equal to 1000 kg or 2204.6 pounds), compared to the 1960’s output of 200 to 300 tonnes.

Artur confirmed that it has been a very slow season in the Vaucluse, with higher prices, but expects that output will increase in January, thereby dropping prices a little which, he said, has already happened. In December, the market price in Provence was 1200 euros/ kilo; in January, the price has also dropped to 1000 euros/kilo now or about $37/ounce in Provence.

The theft of truffles and truffle dogs is making headlines in France

There was also talk—and newspaper articles—of the increasingly serious problem of the thievery of truffles, also contributing to decreasing harvest numbers. In one effort to combat this problem, les gendarmes have taken to setting up road blocks where cars are stopped to allow the officers to smell the inside of the car…in search of truffles!. (Of course, a dead give-away would be a pig in the back seat!)

Patricia Wells writes about “truffle wars” in her new book and there is no shortage elsewhere of bizarre stories adding to the folklore of the French black truffle, including the theft of dogs and pigs—and the return of those animals whose hunting skills were not up to par. Then there are the truffle markets—where no truffles can be seen, as we discovered in Carpentras and Ms. Wells writes about—all adding to the allure and mystique of the coveted truffle…which, of course, inflates the price.

With output so low, it is not surprising that the price of “winter” truffles this year is high. I don’t recall what we have paid for these delicacies—so fresh the soil still clung to the buggers—when we have been in France during truffle season. It was expensive, but it was definitely not even close to $100 an ounce.

Mark feels that prices are continuing to go up each year "because [in my humble opinion] of the demand from the new rich in China and Russia, not because production is down.” Water is not the issue it once was, Mark said, because so many producers have incorporated irrigation. Production may be decreasing across the years, though, as “a lot of the best truffle territory in France has gone to condo development.” Another factor, Mark said, is that the tuber brumale truffle, a very hearty but inferior truffle, is pushing out the melanosporum in France (and Italy but not yet in Spain).

Mark stressed, however, the fact that truffles are expensive. They are rare, even in France. “[A]s you know, [in France] everybody saves their centimes to buy a truffle to share with the family for Christmas. It’s a big deal.” He contends that there is a growing expectation that truffles are not expensive because of the “outrageous overuse of artificial truffle oil—and nearly all truffle oil is 100% artificial!—in the restaurant industry and on the Food Network.”

The “hocus-pocus” of truffle oils was exposed (not for the first time) in the New York Times in a 2007 article; but, alas, even the finest restaurants use synthetic truffle oils. Mark contends, “The chef is just giving the customers what they want, which unfortunately is that truffle popcorn experience.”

I was very interested to discover that Vervacious hasn’t produced truffled products for several years “because folks didn’t want to pay what we had to charge for them" and because Vervacious' truffled products "lacked the knock-you-off-your-feet impact" that synthetic products have and people have come to expect. Vervacious uses the very best real ingredients in everything they make. I suppose that is why such a young company has garnered so many awards: Gold at the Fancy Food Show, Silver for “Outstanding Product” at the Specialty Food Market, a Rachel Ray Fave, and a Feature in The Oprah Magazine, to mention just a few accolades. We have thoroughly enjoyed their products and have mentioned them, as favorites, in earlier articles (e.g., in our post about verrines, we loved their fabulous Andalusian Orange Sherry Mignonette with oysters). If you want outstanding quality, head to Portland or Freeport, Maine (or go online) .

What to do then, when French black truffles are not accessible?

David Scott Allen preparing truffle stuffed quail in sarcophagus

When French truffles are not available or are cost-prohibitive, David Scott Allen, co-editor of Cocoa & Lavender, recommends truffles from Oregon: “When in season, they are often available in my local high-end grocery store [in Tucson] and the expense isn’t too great. And there is nothing like the scent of a truffle being sliced onto the plate at the table. Heady, earthy, musky – fabulous!”

Oregon truffles are very good and growing in popularity (as evidenced by the 7th Annual Oregon Truffle Festival to be held in Eugene, Oregon from January 27-29, 2012). They are not the tuber melanosporum-- they are Leucangia carthusiana—and, as such, are less…well, less truffley. French black truffles, as many of my readers have discovered or have read, exude an intense aroma and a unique and delicate taste: distinctly earthy and musky, as David said. It is hard to describe; some people, in their struggle to describe what their nose is telling them, have said they smell like sweaty socks. While not an appetizing description, it drives home the point that the distinctly pungent aroma and yet delicate flavor are tough to put into words. Oregon black truffles are not the same as French black truffles, but they are very good and an excellent substitute.

I didn’t have a fresh French or Oregon truffle—or any fresh black truffle for that matter—so I settled for white truffle butter from d’Artagnan, purchased from Portsmouth’s wonderful South Street and Vine, a charming wine and gourmet food store, and truffle salt, purchased from a new store in the center of Portsmouth, Portsmouth Salt Cellar. I did not have time to fully explore this new salt store—it looks fantastic!—but we have thoroughly enjoyed a Christmas gift of a selection of salts from this store! Watch for an upcoming post about them as they carry quite a few salts from France and I can’t wait to try their “salt blocks”!

Simple alternatives and affordable options to bring truffle flavor to any dish

Judit & Don Tydeman, owners of Portsmouth Salt Cellar

The extensive selection of salts at Salt Cellar

The butter, alas, was made from porcini mushrooms and white truffle oil. And, what is the truffle oil, really? Ahm…well, olive oil and “aroma.” But, hocus-pocus aside, it was very good in our pasta preparation (to which we also added some Portobello mushrooms).

The salt contains 6% Burgundy truffles (also known as summer truffles). The aroma, to my nose, conjured up images of truffles and we found it to be a very worthy accompaniment to our artichoke soup. A little goes a long way but we all felt it enhanced our soup. We made this soup several years ago (it is in another of Patricia Wells’ cook books) with a truffle brought back by Heidi and Mark—it was phenomenal then, with thinly sliced truffles, but it was very enjoyable now, with truffle salt.

Nothing is the same as having the real deal. Neither the soup nor the spaghetti were as good as they would have been had we picked up our truffles at the Saturday truffle market in Richerenches…or in one of the other top truffle markets in Carpentras on Fridays or Aups on Thursdays. Provence is the center of the tuber melanosporum world.

C’est la vie. Our meal was still wonderful. The smell of truffle wafted from our kitchen and, if I closed my eyes, I could swear it was real. It wasn’t…but in my brain, it was. Our olfactory memory is said to be long-lasting and resilient and deeply entangled with emotion. Indeed our memory of smell is located in the brain’s limbic system and in the tiny part of the brain called the amygdala, both intimately tied to emotion memories. The whiff of truffle, as synthetic as it was, was close enough to elicit all those memories of meals with real truffles in France. I wasn’t in Richerenches, but it was a great meal!

I am sure Patricia Wells’ new book added to my experience. For those of us who love truffles, it is captivating. I counted 60 recipes: appetizers, salads, soups, light meals centered on vegetables, cheese and eggs (the truffle’s best marriage), main meals of pasta, rice, grains, poultry, and seafood, and more. I was pleasantly surprised to see a recipe for risotto with épeautre, a new “old” grain similar to spelt that both David and I have written about. Ms Wells did not include desserts with truffles, an exclusion I support as I’ve never found a sweet dish with truffles that spoke to me either. There is lots of history—who knew that the Neo-Sumerians wrote about truffles on their clay tablets in 2000 BC?—and loads of information about buying and storing truffles. And, should you not be in Provence when you go to make your truffle dish, there are sources in the back of the book for fresh black truffles, tuber melanosporum and others.

And if you are in France now, there are other festivals devoted to France’s black truffle, beyond today’s in Richerenches:

Sunday, January 29 in Aups (in the département of the Var);

Friday through Sunday, February 3 – 5 in Carpentras

Sunday, February 12 in Avignon

Sunday, February 26 in Isle-sur-la-Sorgue

If you can make it to a few of these festivals, you might even forget that France’s black truffle is rare and elusive.

Preparing the Artichoke Soup with Parmesan and Truffles
from Patricia Wells' Simply Truffles cookbook

NINE NEW BELLS TO BE INSTALLED IN NOTRE-DAME DE PARIS: WHAT WOULD QUASIMODO SAY?

2012-01-08T22:12:00.000-05:00

Artwork by our daughter at age 11

Paris’ famous Cathedral of Notre-Dame is about to celebrate its 850th anniversary. In anticipation of this major event, and amidst some controversy, the four bells located at the top of the North Tower—christened, as is the custom for all sacred objects, Angélique-Françoise, Antoinette-Charlotte, Hyacinthe-Jeanne, and Denise-David—will soon be removed, melted down and replaced.

These four bells were cast in 1856, per the request of Napoleon III who wanted them to mark the occasion of his son’s baptism, and have rung every 15 minutes since then.

As part of a $3.5 million project (that will also renovate the cathedral’s vast lighting system and famous organ), the bells will be silenced. They will be replaced by nine new bells that will be cast in the same weight and size as the original 17th century bells. Remarkably, they will be designed to create the same sound as those 17th century bells. According to the New York Times (October 18, 2011), the sound will have “a deeper resonance and a lower tone than [that heard] today.”

Our dog Pal visits Notre-Dame in 2002

The controversy pits purists in one field against those of another: historic artifact versus authentic sound. The first group contends that the bells should be kept in place because they have rung out on all significant historic events—the coronation of kings, the funerals of important French officials, the end of the two World Wars, and to honor those who died on September 11, 2001.

The latter group argues that bells, cast of low-quality metal, are now worn out and out of tune; replacing them with new bells will...
provide a more authentic and harmonious sound than that heard today. Click here to hear a sample of what new bells will sound like (from the Notre-Dame web site).

A little history might put some of this controversy in perspective. Up until the revolution, Notre-Dame had twenty bells. As best I can gather, eight major bells were in the North Tower; two great bells were in the South Tower; seven in the spire; and three that chimed for the clock. During the Revolution in 1789, all of the cathedral’s bells and many other religious symbols were taken by the revolutionaries—as was the case throughout France. All but one of the bells were melted down to produce cannons and coins.

North and South towers of Notre Dame Photo: NDP

The one bell that was taken but not destroyed was the great bell “Bourdon Emmanuel.” (The other great bell, Marie, was taken and destroyed.) Considered a masterpiece, the 1681 Emmanuel, weighing 13 tons, was miraculously spared and was returned to its place in 1802. According to the aforementioned New York Times article, until the four bells were added in 1856, it was only the great bell that rang out, typically to alert the people of Paris of calamitous events such as epidemics.

Bourdon Emmanuel Photo: Freedom Wizard

Today, it rings for major holidays such as Christmas, Easter, All Saint’s Day, popes’ visits, state funerals and other important commemorations. (With a 500-kilo “tongue,” the part of the bell that hits the sides to create the chiming sound, it is easy to understand what a toll it takes on the bell and why it cannot be rung regularly.) Considered one of the most beautiful bells in all of Europe, it will remain in its place.

In 1856, the four bells mentioned above were installed and, later in that century, six small bells were cast and installed in and around the spire, making a total of eleven bells still there today.

Notre-Dame interior Photo: NDP

Controversy notwithstanding, the four bells will be replaced. I was unable to ascertain a timeline, but sometime during 2012, the process will undoubtedly begin. Bells, like people, apparently have a finite life span.

I think Victor Hugo’s Hunchbacked Quasimodo, who sacrificed his hearing to ring the bells of Notre-Dame, intimately appreciated the importance of a harmonious sound and would approve….although he might not so readily embrace the idea of the software program that now controls his beloved bells.

Quai du Marché Neuf

ADAM GOPNIK IS RIGHT: THE TABLE COMES FIRST

2011-12-31T23:47:00.001-05:00

As I write this week’spost, 2011 is about to roll into 2012 and I am reflecting on all the wonderfultimes I have had around the table this year and in years past. Adam Gopnik’s book does this to you. I highly recommend “The Table Comes First: Family, France, and the Meaning of Food.” I might add that I “listened” to much of the book,which I particularly enjoyed because Mr. Gopnik narrates the audiobook himself. Until you can get your hands onthe book, I leave you with some of my favorite quotes from “The Table ComesFirst” at the end of this post.

Adam Gopnik, who gave us “From Paris to the Moon” andregularly writes for The New Yorker,has just written a new book, “The Table Comes First: Family, France, and the Meaning of Food.” It is a jewel of abook about two of my favorite topics—food and France—and the pivotal role thatsitting ’round the table with family, friends, lovers and even our enemiesplays in our lives.

Although the book is in large part about the food on thetable, it really centers on what happens around the table.” The table,according to Mr. Gopnik, is the scene of celebration and solemnity,negotiations and debate, beginnings and endings. Mr. Gopnik’sstory starts...
in 18th century Paris, where moderntastes and restaurants began—and where he and his family lived for years—andtakes us on a journey through other parts of the world and back to Paris. For me, he took me through scenes of my ownlife, so much of it spent at the table, including many tables in France.

The book was an ambitious project. To cover so much—the meaning of food, thepleasure of food, the politics of food, the current status of French food, theorigin of the word “restaurant,” historyof restaurants and recipe books, and the importance of “the table” whileweaving in tasty morsels about French wine, Robert Parker’s very Americanrating system of French wines, food writers, philosophers, new food movements,and even a few recipes—would be daunting to anyone but Mr. Gopnik, who pulledit off brilliantly. The end product is trademark Gopnik: simultaneously erudite and seductive.

I had the pleasure of listening to Mr. Gopnik talk about hisnew book a few weeks ago at a very small gathering in The Music Hall Loft in Portsmouth, New Hampshire. Townyand I, accompanied by friends and fellow Francophiles George and Lee-AnnMcQuilken, began the evening, naturally, at the table, in a nearby restaurant,and ended it with a promise to meet for dinner again soon.

Mr. Gopnik’s talk was filled with the same passion for foodand for Francethat is so evident throughout his book. Havingwritten about food for 25 years and having lived in Paris for many of those years, Mr. Gopnikexplained that the book was the natural outcome of material he had collected andquestions he had entertained for years. Hisbiggest struggle was how to organize it all until he came across a letterwritten by a young man awaiting execution by the Nazis in 1942. This man, who took the name Jacques Decour,wrote to his parents in the last hours of his life about, of all things, hisfavorite meals! And it was a menu, left in his apartment from a small inn near Versailles, that he askedhis parents to make sure that his girlfriend’s parents received.

“Why do we care so much about food?” Mr. Gopnik muses…”Foodrepresented for [Decour] the continuity of living, and what gave form to life.

Certainly, there are exceptions—there are people who reportthat they eat to live and with no particular interest of what goes on aroundthe table. I don’t know any of thesepeople but I am told they exist, which prompted me to ask Mr. Gopnik if hethought some hands-on learning about the importance of food and the table wasnecessary in order to “care so much about food”.

For the French, I think, the importance of food and thetable is instilled early on. In strikingcontrast to the average elementary school in the States where tasteless food isslopped on a tray, expected to be eaten in twelve minutes, and often in requisitesilence, the average elementary school in France serves a tasty meal andencourages conversation.

When we lived in France, our daughter and her classmates atthe local elementary school in Lourmarin had nearly two hours for herthree-course lunch (menus posted every week), students sat around a table, andthey talked…and teachers, who ate with the students, drank wine! (Then theyplayed!)

(People who know me know that the typical American schoolmeal and lunchroom experience infuriates me…and don’t get me started on parentswho hand their kids a video game to entertain themselves at the family table! Iam worried that we are producing generations of children who not only don’tappreciate good food but don’t know how to hold a fork or carry on a conversation!Code words, like NTT won’t be necessary, Mark, because no one’s talking! But,this is a subject for another post!)

In his book, Mr. Gopnik writes that, for the French, caringabout food is “a sign of civilization.” Inhis response to my question, he agreed that what happens around the table earlyon is important, but pointed that there is a movement in France now (I assumehe is referring to the Le Fooding,which he writes about in his book) for whom, in my words, too much time is spent languishing over food at the French table.One could argue, though, that the very fact that there is a movement about food—even if it strives to change France’srelationship to food and the table—underscores importance of food and the tablein that culture.

The book will surely provide fodder for conversation aroundyour table and, perhaps, as it did for me, make you think about your ownrelationship with food and the table.

Although I grew up in the era of TV dinners and TV trays,what I remember most about food in my house are the dinners around thetable. Often it was just my brother andme, seated at our relatively large dining room table, because my mother wouldwait for my father who frequently worked late. My mother was—and still is—a wonderful cook but she happily (I think)made food that pleased her kids (for which we were immensely grateful) andsaved her diverse repertoire of culinary skills for company. On those specialoccasions, we were treated to (or at least exposed to) lavish feasts of Armenianfood, Mexican food, lots of barbequed food, and beautiful roasts. Desserts were her show stoppers. My father also enjoyed cooking—strangethings, I thought at the time, like beerocks—but also breads and wonderful stickybuns. I suppose that I recognized howmuch a part of him these few signature dishes were because, one time when I wasparticularly mad at him, I told him that I hated his sticky buns.

There was indeed a lot that went on around our table, notalways pleasant but usually fun and guaranteedto be filled with laughs when my beloved grandparents were there. They are gone now and I had to smile when Iread Mr. Gopnik’s homage to loved ones we wish were still coming todinner.

I always get impatient, despairing,when people say that the dead are alive in spirit, or are alive in us. They aren’t. The best I can do is to think that they are sleeping off their jet lagin the next bedroom, like furious children giving in at last, but they don’twant to be in that room. They’re angryas hell, because they want to be sitting right here at this table with the restof us and the best we can do is to have the grace to be furious on theirbehalf. (p. 286)

I’ll make Old Fashioneds for you, MG and Grampi, and for allmy family and friends I wish could join us for dinner tonight, our first Sundaydinner in 2012!

We will be serving Mr.Gopnik’s lamb—it is excellent and do add the harissa and Townyrecommends a little grated lemon rind, too—with couscous, green beans, a beet salad withchêvre, and homemade whole wheat Parker House rolls. And, oh yes, the dessert will be a pear cakewith eucalyptus honey and ricotta whipped cream (ask David at Cocoa &Lavender). We will start with oystersand a lovely champagne. 7:00 p.m., atthe house.

The point of eating isto slow down life long enough to promote what Brillat-Savarin called, withsimple charm, good cheer. It doesn’t just take time, but makes time—carves outevenings, memories. That’s what Darwinmeant when he said that we recall good dinners as happy days, wrapped likeflies in a spider’s web by the silk of memory. (p.271)

Civilization is mostlythe story of how seeds, meats, and ways to cook them travel from place toplace. (p. 8)

That Provencecould have contributed to the [inception of restaurants in Paris between 1780 and 1830], achieved by métissage,strange mixing, shows you how sedate a world the Palais restaurants wereshaking up. That braised beef with poachedvegetables, still the best of company dishes, should ever have been considered“à la mode,” much less exotic! (pp.27-28)

A modern meal is adrama unfolding between the Opening Drink and the Concluding Coffee, with theseveral acts passing between the libations. (p.31)

Brillat-Savarin’sideal eater was not the gourmet—the fussbudget with a napkin—but the gourmand, thegreedy guy with a date. “Gourmand,” though a word everyone knows, is a hardword to translate. Literally aglutton—but “glutton” in English has overtones of loutishness that the Frenchword doesn’t have. To be gourmand is notjust to be greedy for whatever it is they put in front of you but alive withappetite for the special thing you want. To be a gourmand is not to be a gourmet;you’re not finicky. But it is to wantthe good things in life. (pp. 40-41)

Home, Robert Frostwrote, is the place where, when you have to go there, they have to take you in. A restaurant is a place where, when you go there, they not only have to takeyou in but have to act as though they were glad to see you. In cities of strangers, this pretense can bevery dear. (p. 53)

When we buy ThomasKeller’s French Laundry Cookbook—though I will admit that his short ribs are asteady thing—on the whole we grasp not only that you can’t do it, but thatthere is something gauche in even trying. (p. 59)

Taste begins at thedoor, and ends in our dreams. (p. 113)

Remarkably, nowhere inwine writing, including Parker’s, would a Martian learn that the first reasonpeople drink wine is to get drunk. (p. 188)

Yet though I wouldstill rather eat in Paris than anywhere else in the world—eating, once again,is a social act before it is a purely sensory one; it calls on our moral tastemore than our measuring tongue, and my own moral taste still leads me backinexorably to the wit and intelligence of French civilization—I recognize thatthe rebirth has not happened, that the crisis [in French food] I identified,only half-playfully, a decade or more ago is more entrenched now than it wasthen, and that fewer and fewer people who care about cooking now think ofFrance as first among all others. (pp. 225-226)

The gods sat down todinner twice a day, even though they would live forever if they never ateagain. (p. 284)

Cooking is the faiththat raw ingredients can be conjured into a nightly miracle. (p. 285)

And we pray, too, that[our friends] will have finished cooking before we arrive, so that the horriblehour in the kitchen, as they fuss and mix, is one that we are spared. Even with a glass of wine in hand, it is hardto watch another cook—and when they have the food still in plastic wrap…it’stoo much. (p. 85)

“I don’t understandhow a young couple can begin life by buying a sofa or a television,” [Britishchef Fergus Henderson] said indignantly to me. “Don’t they know the table comes first?” (p. 8)

Photo: Connor Ellison

LA POSTE: MEDIEVAL PRACTICES STILL LURK IN THE FRENCH POSTAL SYSTEM

2011-12-18T13:29:00.001-05:00

ByLouis J. Salome

Author of “Violence, Veils, and Bloodlines: Reporting from War Zones.”

As Christmas and Hanukah approach, many of us find ourselves madly wrapping packages to be shipped off to family and friends around the globe. Will we entrust our treasures to the oft-maligned but still remarkably reliable U.S. Postal System or to one of its chief competitors, FedEx, DHL, or United Parcel Service? After that decision, the rest is straightforward and familiar. Not so in France. Guest writer Louis J. Salome, author of “Violence, Veils, and Bloodlines: Reporting from War Zones,” describes the elaborate labyrinth he had to navigate when he went to La Poste to mail a painting from Saint-Remy-de-Provence to his daughter in Seattle, Washington.

On my first visit to beautiful Saint-Remy-de-Provence, young bulls ruled the streets and young men taunted them in a miniature version of Pamplona. That was in mid-September 2001. My second visit came a few days later when I enjoyed delicious crepes on the street and visited the St. Paul de Mausole hospital on the fringe of Saint-Remy.

St. Paul de Mausole in St. Remy

St. Paul de Mausole is where Vincent van Gogh convalesced for a year in 1889, and where he painted many of his marvelous works. When I was there, St. Paul's was still a hospital, but it was for women only; its patients used art as therapy and sold their paintings in the hospital's gift shop. The van Gogh connection remained real and vital 112 years after the artist had left.

Van Gogh self-portrait 1889

Van Gogh, the hospital and its latest patients introduced me to medieval France in a way that must be experienced personally to be known at all.

Margaret, my older daughter, bought a...
medium-size painting in the hospital's gift shop. The large bold painting of a mother and child seemed a perfect illustration of the work of a female patient, which it was.

To protect the painting from possible damage, Margaret wanted it sent by mail to her home in Seattle. That's when medieval France entered the picture, complete with a local jeweler, special wax, a double-boiler and a metal stamp to seal the deal at the post office.

The next afternoon I brought the painting to Mr.Bricolage, a French version of Home Depot, Lowe's or any large lumber and hardware store, near our vacation abode in the town of Beaucaire on the Rhone River. There, workers built a sturdy wooden frame around the painting. By the time that operation was finished, it was too late in the afternoon to deal with the local post office.

That wouldn't be a problem, I thought; I could mail the package the following morning. But I hadn't counted on the wax, the metal stamp, the jeweler and the double-boiler.

Bearing my French dictionary along with my high school and college French and the well-fortified painting, I marched confidently to the local post office the next morning. After waiting in line for a time, then explaining that I wanted insurance on the package, and flipping through a few pages in my dictionary as our conversation went along, I figured out that the post office couldn't be my friend until I picked up some special wax and a metal stamp from the local jeweler around the corner. But I had to hurry before the jeweler closed for lunch and a mid-day break.

The wax and stamp were necessary for insurance purposes. Only if the wax seal on the package were broken could an insurance claim be made. Without a wax seal stamped on the string that wound around the package there could be no insurance.

The jeweler was accustomed to the drill, but it was new to me. He gave me a ball of hard wax and the metal stamp. What next? I wondered. You must go to your home, melt some of the wax in a pan, pour it where the string touches the paper covering the package and then, while the wax remains soft, apply the stamp to the wax. That's how the deal would really be sealed.

At our charming medieval house in a cul-de-sac in Beaucaire's old town, I decided that a small double-boiler was the best tool for melting the right amount of wax to seal the package. By this time, I had help. With the aid of many hands, I applied the melted wax to the strings and the package and, before the wax hardened, I jammed the metal stamp into the wax. Voila. We had solved part of the medieval puzzle.

But I still had to return to the post office to actually mail the package and pay the postage and insurance. At this point, that task was a snap, and we were all smiles, the postal clerks and I. Quickly, however, I dashed back to the jeweler to return the wax and the metal stamp before he closed, for lunch or the day, I don't recall which. I didn't want to spend the following day on this package deal; I didn't want this medieval adventure to turn into a three-day affair.

The experience was memorable in every sense, not the least of which was the safe arrival of Margaret's painting in Seattle.

Lest anyone forget, it is these off-the-beaten-path affairs that make traveling so much fun, and so easy to remember.

Retired journalist Louis J. Salome spent more than 35 years as a newspaper reporter and editor including 17 years at The Miami (Florida) News, where he was the editorial page editor for 10 years; more than 9 years overseas with Cox Newspapers, Inc.; 5 years with The Palm Beach (Florida) Post and 4 years with the Worcester (Massachusetts) Telegram & Gazette. His numerous awards and prizes for reporting and editorial writing include the National Society of Professional Journalists (Sigma Delta Chi) Award for Editorial Writing, which he won twice. He lives in Portsmouth, New Hampshire.

‘TIS THE SEASON FOR VERRINES DE NOËL!

2011-12-11T18:17:00.001-05:00

Having entered the season in which we all eat, drink andendeavor to be merry, I would like to introduce you to verrines, a culinaryconcept that, in its own right is simply captivating but one that may be especiallywelcome during our annual holidays of overindulgence. (Forgive me, those of you who already knowverrines!)

I made my first acquaintance with verrines in the summer of2008. At least, I think I did, but Towny insists we enjoyed them as early as2001 in Édouard Loubet’s Michelin-starred Moulinde Lourmarin (sadly, now closed). Thistime around, we were in Roussillon, theProvençal city best known for its fabulous ochre-colored cliffs, in a smallrestaurant called La Maison Tacchella. Itwas definitely here that those small attractive glasses—filled with layers ofcolor, texture, and taste—first caught my attention. Perhaps it was because themenu had referred to them by a particular name—verrines—or perhaps it was because David and Mark, being thefoodies that they are, immediately noted the interesting serving of thetwo small salads that accompanied my smoked salmon and made them a fascinatingsubject of table conversation.

Verrines at La Maison Tacchella

No matter why, the small glasses of savory goodies—a saladof Israeli couscous and another of tomatoes, mozzarella, and pesto—were firmlyetched in my food consciousness that day. They were exquisite: attractive inpresentation, appealing in their uniqueness, and just the right amount offood. It was love at first sight—andfirst bite! I was hooked! We looked forverrines on all the menus we saw for the rest of our stay in Provence and David,who was already familiar with...
them as he will explain in an upcoming post (December 24th, 2011) onCocoa & Lavender, created them more than once for our table at home in La Bonbonnière,our apartment in Lourmarin.

The word, verrine,is a relatively new one, not even found in my online Larousse dictionary. It is pronounced like vair EEN. Undoubtedlyderived from verre, the French wordfor glass, verrine is probably theresult of a union between verre andanother French word, terrine, whichrefers to a mixture of meat, fish or vegetables, usually prepared in layers ina loaf shape. As used in contemporaryculinary circles, verrine refers tolayered dishes—sweet or savory—served in small clear glasses of any shape. A verrine can be any part of the meal—an amuse-bouche, an appetizer, a salad, avegetable, a main course (or more likely a selection of verrines may comprise the main course), a dessert (the course inwhich a verrine has its longesthistory)—or the whole meal may be served as verrines.

Verrine de Potiron at La Closerie in Ansouis Photo: David Scott Allen

Verrines became a dining sensation in Paris in early 2000s when they were(arguably) first introduced by high-end Parisian chefs. But, their appeal was so captivating thattheir popularity quickly spread from Michelin-starred venues to chic bakeriesand then to bistros and cooking shows, magazines, and cookbooks with nameslike, “Verrines: Apéros et Gourmandises.” A quick Google search will yield pages ofFrench sites devoted to verrines, including “Verrinesde Noel.” In fact, just as they are beginning to make their way to theStates and Canada—still, theyare rarely seen on menus—their popularity may be starting to wane in Paris.

Black Bottom Butterscotch Pudding

In the States and Canada, verrines may blend into the current small plate craze or tastingmenu sensation, culinary movements that focus on small portions of interestingpreparations that are often served with wines to complement each serving, andboth of which have been met with both praise and satire.

Verrines can fit in anywhere. They may be served forbreakfast, lunch, or dinner. Forbreakfast, think simple: layers of granola, fruit, yogurt, and nuts. Or, imagineEggs Florentine in layers: a layer of chopped cooked spinach, followed bychopped soft-boiled egg, and topped with a dollop of Hollandaise sauce and awedge of English muffin. For lunch,think cold soups or a chopped salad in layers. For dinner, let the imagination go wild: your favorite meatloaf topped with mashed sun chokes and mushroomgravy...hmmm.

A trio of breakfast verrines - scrambled eggs with cheese and topped with
salsa and olives; spinach and artichoke hearts; or tomatoes and pesto

The possibilities are limited only by your imagination….andthe number of small glasses you are able to conjure up.

A small mason jar makes a great verrine! Photo: Pamela O'Neill

For our Christmas dinner, we will include a fewverrines. We often begin with oysters onthe half-shell—why not an oyster topped with our favorite sauce in a tinyglass (in some circles, this may be called an oyster shooter).

Three different types of oyster with Towny's mignonette, cocktail sauce and
Andalusian Orange Sherry Mignonette (from our friends, Heidi and Mark, at Vervacious)

A verrine ofshredded raw beets in vinaigrette, topped with sour cream and chives would be anice side dish.

Shredded Beet Salad

A verrine of mashed potatoes with roasted garlic, topped withchanterelle mushrooms that were sautéed in butter is sure to be a big hit.

Chantarelle Mushrooms and Roasted Garlic Mashed Potatoes

Even that (in)famous Watergate Salad takes on a new lifewhen cast as a verrine. I am never sure ofwhat point in the meal this dish should be introduced, but gussied up as a verrine, it is sure to be a hit (or, atleast a topic of conversation.)

The Watergate Salad goes Hoity Toity

Dessert in verrinescomes naturally. A black-bottom butterscotch pudding with alayer of whipped cream and a dollop of crème caramel on top is pictured above. A good ol’ standard, the parfait—perhaps adistant relative of today’s verrine—is transformed into a verrine when served in a smaller glass, a size not so large that guests feel compelled to share one dessert! We will serve a white chocolate pudding, with a thin layer ofwhipped cream and topped with shavings of dark chocolate for dessert at Christmas.

Whatever you fill your holiday verrines with, think festive: layersof color, texture and taste. Check out Cocoa & Lavender on December 24th for recipe ideas.

'Tis the season for verrines! Have fun, but beware: those tiny dishes can be addictive....You'll be planning your next menu of verrines just as soon as all those small glasses have been washed and dried!

4 DECEMBER STARTS CHRISTMAS SEASON IN PROVENCE: PLANT YOUR WHEAT SEEDS AND GET OUT YOUR SANTONS!

2011-12-05T01:00:00.001-05:00

Department stores in the United States ring in the Christmasseason the day after Halloween—with the possible exception of those states thatmark the Day of the Dead—and the rest of us fall into place when we toss outthe turkey carcass at the end of November, depending on where Thanksgivinglands.

In Provence,December 4^th marks the start of the Christmas season. It’s a long season—we all know the French liketheir holidays and I say that in the most commendable even covetous manner. But, the holiday season does span over eightweeks, ending on February 2 with Candlemas (or Chandeleur)!

December 4^th—today!—is the Feast of Saint Barbara(Sainte Barbe). It’s a busy day for those who live in Provence and wish tocelebrate the season (or at least carry on the tradition!). Most people we know participate in some wayand I feel fortunate to have been included in some wonderful expressions ofthese traditions.

But, first, who is Sainte Barbe? Yes, she is the patronsaint of one of my favorite cities in my native California, christened SantaBarbara in 1602 by Spanish explorer Sebastian Vizcaino after making his wayashore during—note this—a violent electrical storm on December 3, the eve ofthe day of her feast. In 1786, Father Junipero Serra dedicated his mission—notethat it is the best-preserved of the California Missions—to Saint Barbara onthe day of her feast. But, I digress….

Saint Barbara, daughter of a wealthy pagan, lived in what isnow Turkeyin the third century. At that time, thatarea was called Nicomedia and was part of the Roman Empire, where emperors were more likely to beworshiped than the god of the relatively new Christian religion. Her father, Dioscorus, confined hisapparently beautiful daughter to a tower which he kept guarded. It is said that he wished to keep herprotected from undesirable suitors and Christian proselytizers. Perhaps apocryphal,but the story goes that her father kept her so isolated that food and othersupplies were sent up to her in a basket on a rope. Perhaps due to her keen observations of thepredictable patterns of the sun, moon, and tides—or perhaps because Christianwritings were placed clandestinely in her basket—Barbara became interested inthe new religion and eventually converted. One time, while her father was traveling, she instructed one of hisworkers to make a third window in her tower; three windows, the story goes, wouldsymbolize the Holy Trinity.

When her father returned and discovered her conversion, heflew into a rage, demanding that she...
renounce her new religion. Barbara refused. Her father turned her over the Roman officialswho tortured her and subjected her to the public humiliation of standing nakedbefore the people of her town—but, it is said that God’s angels covered her ina fog. Barbara would not forsake her new faith, so the Romans demanded that herfather kill her. His initial attemptswere not successful—Barbara, instead, appeared more luminous after survivingeach attempt—until, finally, he took his sword and beheaded her. Flames are said to have erupted from her bodyand then lightning struck her father dead.

Although Barbara’s martyrdom is said to have taken place in267, there is little if any mention of her in early Christian records until the7^th century. In the 9^thcentury, she clearly had a following, but lingering questions about theauthenticity of her story led her status to be reduced in 1729 and, in 1969,she was removed from the official Roman Calendar of Saints, the TridentineCalendar, that determines (as I understand it) which saints the Popehonors.

Nonetheless, Saint Barbe remains the saint to call upon toprotect oneself from lightning (remember her father’s death); any accidentsrelating to explosions from gun powder; and work-related dangers of violentdeath. She is patron saint of architects, builders, stone masons (remember thethird window that she had built in her tower), military engineers, artillerymen,miners, and sailors. (I can see thatthis saint has been busy in her namesake in California;but, I have to confess, that her role in growing wheat, an association promotedin Provenceon this day, was unclear to me.)

The Wheat of Sainte Barbe is Planted on December 4th. People all over this region have been busyplanting wheat seeds (or lentils) in three small containers, symbolizing theHoly Trinity. Called le blé de l’espérance or le blé de la Sainte Barbe—the wheat ofhope or the wheat of Saint Barbara—these packets of seeds are availableeverywhere and often the proceeds go to a charity for children.

The seeds are usually planted in three shallow bowls filledwith a light soil or a damp cotton fabric which are then placed in sunnywindows to germinate. With a little luck(and perhaps some assistance from SainteBarbe), the seeds will sprout and grow tall and full, portending aprosperous year.

In Provençal, “Quandlou blad vèn bèn, tout vèn bèn,” or “When the wheat goes well, everythinggoes well.”

Preparing the presentation of the 13 Desserts

On Christmas Eve, red ribbons are wrapped around what arehopefully luxuriant bundles of greenery and the plants can then adorn the tablefor the Great Supper (Le Gros Souper). The plants can also be used to decorate thecrèche of Santons and, after theseason, planted outside to encourage a good crop.

The Santons arearranged in the Nativity Scene on December 4th. Santons,the handmade, painted clay figurines that depict the Holy Family and the peoplewho inhabit the 18^th and 19^th century villages ofProvence are arranged in the family crèche —and rearranged as time passes toillustrate the passing of the days (e.g., to mark the progress of the threekings toward Bethlehem). The etymology ofthe word, Santon, is not precisely clear;it probably comes from the Provençal word for little saint, “santouon” or perhaps from the Italianword for beautiful saint, “Santi Beli.”

Some of our Santons

The Santons rangein size from itsy-bitsy (half an inch tall) to the comparatively giant size of eighteeninches. The sizes are used to providethe illusion of distance by placing the smallest Santons in the rear to lookfarthest away. They are created frommolds and fired in kilns at 900 C (1650 F) for about two days. Some are simply paintedand others are elaborately adorned with highly detailed clothing, baskets,hats, scarves, fishing nets, baguettes and the like.

Mausanne-les-Apilles Santon Museum

The characters range from the pious to the silly andsecular. Baby Jesus may be surrounded byhis immediate family, but in the distance the fish monger and the ravi (the village “simpleton”) may belooking on. There are butchers, bakers, and candlestick makers; painters andmusicians; vendors of lavender, fruit, and pies; hunters of assorted animals;and farm and domesticated animals.

More of our Santons

Most of the characters are from the 18^th and 19^thcenturies which has led well known writer Peter Mayle to ponder. In his book entitled “Provence A – Z,” he writes:

While I have a greatrespect for tradition, I hope it won’t be long before we see a few figuresaround the crèche that reflect the more contemporary side of Provence. The plumber, the postman, the electrician,the man who installs satellite TV dishes, the driver of the UPS van, the localgarage mechanic, perhaps even the occasional tourist—surely they deserve to beinvolved during what is, after all, the season of goodwill to all men. (239-240)

I wonder if Mr. Mayle knows that some santonniersand santonnières will make santons in your own likeness, asa sanglier hunter or a priest or as the ravi, if you prefer (but probablynot as the baby Jesus!).

Cezanne paints under Daudet's windmill

TheSantonscame to life in the late 18^th century when the churches were closedduring the French Revolution. Peoplewere unable to enjoy the church crèches (or the living crèches) and crèche makers(who usually created the carved wooden figures that populated the churchnativity scenes) were out of business; so, the craftsmen began making santons for the generalpublic. The endeavor was a huge hit anda tradition was born.

Live Santons in Mouriés

Thefirst Santon fair was in Marseille. It wasn’tlong before there were Santon fairs in many villages. Today the Marseille fair is thriving, as areones in Aubagne, Aix, Arles, Tarascon, Sisteron, and Fontvieille (naming justthe few with which I am familiar).

The Santon Fair in Aix-en-Provence

Thereare also ateliers (studios) that allow visitors; most notably is Santons Fouque in Aix-en-Provence (www.santons-fouque.com). And there are very interesting Santonmuseums; most notably are one in Les-Baux-de-Provence and another in nearby Maussane-les-Alpilles.

Santons have become part of our family Christmas traditionand our family continues to grow with each trip to Provence (our family of Santons, that is!) Now, it is time to go plant the seeds—may theygrow so tall that they touch the ceiling and I’m made to feel like SeymourKrelbourn—and dust off my old Santon friends!

Our Santon collection has grown throughout the years!

MEET ME AT LES DEUX GARÇONS: A SEQUEL TO “MIDNIGHT IN PARIS”?

2011-11-27T23:35:00.001-05:00

Should Woody Allen and Owen Wilson decide to follow Picasso to the South of France, surely Les Deux Garçons would feature prominently. Like Les Deux Magots, the famous café hang-out of Gertrude Stein’s Lost Generation in 1920s, Les Deux Garçons has long been a magnet for artists and writers in Aix-en-Provence.

Les Deux Garçons’ roots reach back to 1792, but 53 coursMirabeau had a long history before it became a café. The 17th century mansion isfirst mentioned in the historic accounts of Aix (that I read) as being the1660s home of Francois de Gantès, lawyer in the court of the King Louis XIV. Mostaccounts thereafter refer to the building as Hôtel de Gantès (hôtel, referring to the French usage of the term for a sumptuous townhouse). The property exchanged hands a numberof times before a Monsieur Guion purchased it in the mid-18th century and soughtto create a meeting place for the aristocrats of Aix-en-Provence,one modeled after the English clubs that were popular in

France

at that time. He transformedthe ground floor into this club and it soon became the site of volatilearguments between supporters of the old regime and local revolutionaries untilit was closed in 1790. In 1792, it wasre-opened as a café called Café Julien and in 1840, when two waiters purchasedit, the café was christened “Les Deux Garçons.” Today, “Les 2G,” as the legendary meetingplace is sometimes called, is really more a brasseriethan a café.

The building itself was recently renovated and opened inJuly 2011 as an upscale hotel—not surprisingly called Hôtel Gantès (hôtel, referring to the contemporary usage of the termas a place for paid accommodation). Themain entrance is around the corner from Les Deux Garçons on rue Fabrot and is,shall we say, discrete in the chic sense. It is not the Hôtel Le Bristol whereGil, played by Owen Wilson, and his fiancée stayed in “Midnight in Paris,” but it would be more than adequate accommodation for the South of France sequel I am imagining.

Famous patrons of Les Deux Garçons have included...
Aix’s own Paul Cézanne and his childhood friend, writer Émile Zola. Pablo Picasso as well as Henri Matisse who also appears in “Midnight in Paris” were both heavily influenced by Post-Impressionist artist Cezanne and both artists spent their last years in the South of France.

Paul Cézanne (left) and Émile Zola

Pablo Picasso

Picasso is known to have visited Les Deux Garçons in the mid-20th century. In 1958, he bought his Château de Vauvenargues just outside of Aix, at the base of Mont Sainte-Victoire, the mountain made famous by his beloved Cézanne. Picasso presumably thought he would stay there for the remaining years of his life and had several hundred pieces of art shipped there; but he and wife Jacqueline only lived in Château de Vauvenargues for a couple of years (and then moved further south to the sunnier Côte d’Azure, an area his wife apparently preferred ). Picasso is buried on the property which is still owned by the Picasso family and is occasionally open to the public.

Other famous patrons who may inspire Allen to consider Les Deux Garçons as the setting for his sequel include Henri Bosco, Edith Piaf, and Jean-Paul Sartre. Okay, it’s not Hemingway, Dali, and the Fitzgeralds, but I think Owen Wilson could strike up some interesting conversations with these folks, too. Perhaps Picasso could introduce him to another mistress…Was Dora Maar still around or had Françoise Gilot replaced her? (An interesting piece of trivia is that, upon their break-up, Picasso gave Dora a beautiful house in Ménerbes, which we saw this past summer.)

I can picture a 1920's car pulling up to Gil as he sits alongside one of the dozens of fountains in Aix, maybe my favorite fountain at the Place des Quatre Dauphins. Located in the heart of the Mazarin quarter, this baroque style fountain of four dolphins, water spewing forth from their mouths and flippers appearing to hold in place the obelisk in the center, has been admired since 1667. It’s midnight when Gil jumps in the car and the driver turns toward the beautiful plane tree lined cours Mirabeau. The wide boulevard, built in the 17th century on the ancient ramparts and now the center of all activity in Aix, is quiet. The shops, boutiques, cafes and banks that line 21st century cours Mirabeau are gone. In their place are the stately homes of the early 1700s and a few cafes, including Les Deux Garçons. Aix-en-Provence, often called the “Paris of the South,” has much of the same beautiful architecture that Paris prizes and it is an integral part of the city’s appeal. Even without the midnight rendezvous with the vintage car, one is easily transported in time!

Today, the terrace tables are filled with locals who want to see and be seen, tourists, and university students who can afford the pricey drinks and meals. (And, although Woody Allen may not be interested, Hugh Grant and George Clooney stopped by not too long ago.)

Our family has made Les Deux Garçons a meeting place sinceour very first night in Provence. That evening was the occasion of a fast-movingbut powerful electrical storm that caught us as we walked to dinner. I recall running to the restaurant, mydaughter’s tiny hand holding tightly on to my own, and arriving looking morelike a family of drowned rats than the excited threesome we were. But, we werewarmly welcomed by the waiters—all men and all dressed in the black and white garbof an Old World elegance seldom found today. We were immediately enthralled bythe beauty of the original 1790ish “gilt-and-muraled” interior that I had readabout in Fodor’s Tourist Guide. Long before Woody Allen’s “Midnight” movie, wefelt transported back in time. The meal that followed—I can’t recall now whatwe had aside from crème brulée and profiteroles for dessert—was delicious andreasonably priced (in contrast to what the tour books had said).

Grab a table on the terrace, where we have returnedcountless times now, for breakfast, lunch, or a beverage. Anytime of day is fine; but, if you are not eating, choose a table that is not covered in white linen.

Forbreakfast, I recommend their special which includes a tea or café—I order a grande crème—with croissants, bread, andjuice for a very reasonable price. Omlettes (delicious, Towny tells me) may beadded to the breakfast special for a nominal fee. A light lunch or dinner may be ordered on theterrace; but, for the finer cuisine, move indoors.

The clear advantage of the table on the terrace is that one hasa bird’s eye view of Aixois lifeas it parades by on cours Mirabeau. One sees business men in perfectly tailoredsuits and women dressed to the nines; hipsters dressed in black and coveredwith tattoos and spikes; and absolutely everything in between.

And, the passersby are certainly watching the patrons, too,as evidenced by a funny experience my friend Pam and I recently had at ourfavorite haunt. It was anuncharacteristically chilly October morning and we—Pam, her faithful canine companionD’Agneau and I--were one of two occupied tables outdoors. We three sat on one side, with our backs tothe glass, under the wide canopy and we people-watched as we sipped our grande crèmes. Every 20 minutes a new gaggle of what wesuspected were Americans would stop in front of Les Deux Garçons and the guide, who held a sign high enough toreach the plane trees, would stop and proceed to recite the names of all thecelebrities who had ever graced the terrace of this famous café. One group spent an inordinate amount of timein front of us and suddenly I realized that we were the subject of the guide’stalk. Just as I voiced my suspicions toPam, they turned their cameras toward us, and leaned in to focus. A chorus of snapping shutters was followed byawkward smiles and nods of thanks and then the paparazzi were on their way. Ihad the distinct impression that the guide was talking about D’Agneau,something about the French taking their dogs everywhere; my impressions wereconfirmed when, a little later, we bumped into the same tour guide who, whilepetting D’Agneau, asked if we had just been in Les Deux Garçons. When I answered in a heavily anglicizedFrench, she was taken aback and began laughing. She called over the members of her tour group—Americans—and we alllaughed as she explained that she had used us as an example of how the Frenchtake their dogs everywhere, including restaurants!

Laterthat week, Pam and I met my daughter’s very close friend Emily for a mostmemorable three course meal—inside, on the tables with the white linen andsilver—at Les Deux Garçons. Emily who isstudying at the university in Aix—and traveling around the continent—was ableto eke out some time for lunch with us. It was so much fun to hear about her adventures--and to hear her speaksome French!—and to learn about how smitten she is with Aix. Who wouldn’t be?

Ah, tobe young and lucky enough to live in Aix. I think Aix, like Hemingway’s Paris,would stay with you for the rest of your life, too. I hope that Woody Allen and Owen Wilson willfollow Picasso to Aix and, if they do, I’m confident they will meet at Les DeuxGarçons!

“JE NE TE FAIT PAS DES BISES CAR JE SUIS ENRHUMÉ” * and other reasons to visit a French pharmacy

2011-11-18T20:05:00.001-05:00

Watercolor of the pharmacy in Rousillon created by our daughter at age 8

Ah, two weeks in Provence. Heavenly. I arrived in Marseille, feeling bushy-tailed if not quite bright-eyed. My delightful seat mates, two long-timefemale friends on their way to Moscow, included me in their constant flow of mini-bottlesof wine across the Atlantic—of course I didn’t decline—and that camaraderie,coupled with the usual sleeplessness of such a flight, led to a noticeablered-eye effect when I landed. But nothing could dampen my enthusiasm about the adventuresin store for me in la belle Provence.

October is a wonderful time to visit Provence. The fall weather may require a sweater—even a coat if the Mistral reallyblows into town—but the sun is typically bright and a good table is always availableat Café Gaby. In contrast to August,when we are often in Lourmarin, the size of the weekly market and the length ofthe day both shrink significantly but the peaceful ambience of the village growsimmensely and more than compensates.

A good friend, Brian whom I met in a French immersion coursein Moustiers-Sainte-Marie, happened to be in France and agreed to pick me up atthe airport. It was a beautiful day. Accordingto the Air France pilot who landed the plane in Marseille, the temperature wasright around 24° C (75° F). The skies were crystal clear and very blue, thanksto the Mistral (that nipped a little at our heels but mainly played the positiverole of sweeping any clouds out to sea). A leisurely drive to Lourmarin found us in thevillage just as lunch was commencing. We opted to eat en plein air at L’Oustalet, a small restaurant that specializes intraditional Provençal cuisine.

We took a stroll around the village after lunch and a tourof the exhibition of Naïf paintings that I wrote about earlier. I saw friends—there were many exchanges of les bises—and I made lots of plans forthe next few days: un café at Gaby’s before the Market the next day; dinnerplans with Pierre and Muriel for one night; with Jim and Linda for another night; and lunch again withBrian. I was quite content.

So, when I was awakened by a scratchy throat in the middleof my second night, I was not happy. Thedreaded airplane cold. I padded down our spiral staircase to fetch the honey(that I had just purchased at the Lourmarin Market); a spoonful would surely stymiemy cough. Tomorrow I would go to the pharmacie,a thought that instilled such comfort in me that I was able to return to apeaceful slumber, feeling confident that this nascent cold would pass quickly. French pharmacies have this effect on me.

My initial introduction to this revered resource was in Aix-en-Provence. We were staying in the “Hotel Des Augustins",a medieval convent that, after the French Revolution, was converted into ahotel and, then later, remodeled into the charming 29-room hotel we found in1999. Many of its period features were retained, including its lovely marblestaircase, its antiquity evidenced by the swooping centers of each stair. One evening, on the way to dinner, our 7-yearold daughter slipped on the last stair, the only consequence of which was...
minorbut required a little first aide: thetip of the pencil she was carrying was now embedded in the palm of her hand!

We thought we would have to go to the emergency room or calla doctor, but the hotel staff directed us to the pharmacie, across the street, on the corner of rue de la Masse andthe famous cours Mirabeau. There, thepharmacist carefully examined the puncture, removed as much of the graphite aspossible, and then cleaned and dressed the small wound. Free of charge. We were very impressed with the pharmacistand his professional assistance that enabled us to carry on with dinner plans with no furtherworries.

I later learned that a pharmacist in France spends six tonine years, depending on his or her specialization, getting a “diploma e’état de Docteur en Pharmacie,’”the requisite degree to practice pharmacy in France. It is a highly competitive field to enter andadvanced specializations are even more competitive. (In the U.S., thePharm.D. degree typically takes four years, after two years of undergraduatecoursework in “pre-pharmaceutical” classes although most students havecompleted more undergraduate coursework before applying to a Pharm.D. program.)

Since that time, we have sought the services of pharmaciesin France for everything from skin care and cold remedies to guidance aboutwhich wild mushrooms are edible—ten years ago, the chief pharmacist inLourmarin organized a mushroom hunt in the nearby Luberon forest—and, recently,advice about an acute eruption of small pink bumps on my husband’s arms afterpicking figs.

Mushroom hunt organized by the Pharmacist in Lourmarin

The next day, I headed over to la Pharmacie de Lourmarin. Like all pharmacies in France, it is markedby a large neon green cross. It seemsthat every village has at least one pharmacieand some cities, like Aix, for example, have so many that one has to wonder howthey all survive!

Actually, French laws and regulations ensure that pharmaciesare distributed throughout the country to enable easy access to pharmaceuticalservices by all. There is about 1pharmacy in France for every2500-3000 inhabitants (compared with approximately 1 pharmacy in the U.S. for every5500 inhabitants). As I understand the system, the government requires that a24-hour pharmacy must be available within a reasonable distance from anywherein France.Price controls of all drugs are imposed by the government.


Pharmacie de Lourmarin - Photo: Pierre Schott

Upon entering la Pharmacie de Lourmarin, like allFrench pharmacies, one encounters rows upon rows of skin care products—some veryexpensive in the United States, like Darphin—as well as teas galore, variousdigestive aids, an impressive number of weight-loss and anti-water retentionagents, homeopathic treatments, veterinaryproducts, and the more mundane toothpaste, soaps, and sunglasses. The vast majority of drugs—even aspirin—liesbehind the counter, requiring a conversation with the pharmacist (and sometimesa prescription).

Some people are happiest in a department store, others in ahardware store, and still others in huge grocery store. Me, give me a French pharmacy and I amcontent for hours. (Ask my husband ordaughter!)

I explained to the pharmacist—as best I could in my limitedFrench—that my throat had a persistent tickle causing me to cough and that mynose was running but my head was “stuffed up.” The pharmacist could see that my eyes werewatering and that one hand was clutching tissues while the other one wascovering my mouth as I coughed.

The pharmacist asked a few questions: Did I have a fever? Did I have chills? Was my chestcongested? She then recommended Balsofumine to keep the nasal passagesclear (a solution added to hot water for inhalation); saline solution to keepthe nasal passages clean (dispensed by inserting the nozzle into each nostriland pressing the nozzle to spray); and Actifed:Rhume, Jour & Nuit to address thecold symptoms (four color-coded tablets to be taken morning, afternoon,evening, and at bedtime). I also picked up some Mucomyst (a sachet whose contents are added to water to thin mucus)and aspirin which like so manymedicines in Franceis effervescent (and must be dissolved in water to take). At the last minute, I grabbed a tisane relaxante (a non-caffeinated teawith relaxing properties).

Balsofumine
Balsofumine is aliquid solution composed of primarily eucalyptus, with benzoin, balsam of Peru,lavender and thyme. It can be purchasedwith or without menthol. To use it, oneshould also buy un inhalateur. It is a very cool and inexpensive dispenser(about 5 euros) that works so much better than the bowl and towel-over-the-headapproach! Add very hot—but not boiling—water to the bowl of the dispenser andthen add a spoonful of Balsofumine. Then, inhale the aromatic steam and yoursinuses and chest will drain quickly! Wehave been bringing this product home for ourselves as well as friends andfamily for over ten years. It works!

Saline Solution isfamiliar to most people, but the dispenser is slightly different from most thatare found in the States and we think it is superior. Plain saline is most common, but one can alsobuy saline with manganese to help prevent allergic reactions and with copper tohelp prevent infections.

Actifed is, ofcourse, available in the States but the four-tablet per day format—Rhume: Jour & Nuit—was not somethingI was familiar with and doesn’t seem to be available by this company althoughother pharmaceutical companies appear to produce a product with the same activeingredients. The daytime tablets—matin, midi, et dîner—are composed of acetaminophen andpseudoephedrine—and the nighttime tablets—coucher—arecomposed of acetaminophen and dipenhydramine.

Mucomyst wasrecommended by another pharmacist in France for my daughter who couldn’tshake a “chesty” cough. It worked almostimmediately and we have kept some around our house ever since. The active ingredient is acetylcysteine.

Effervescent Aspirin
Aspirin, in France,typically comes in an “effervescent” form and includes vitamin C. This mode of delivery of a drug is verypopular in France;if you prefer another delivery mode, such as a tablet, you have to ask for it.

Tisane from the Lourmarin pharmacy
Tisane is a non-caffeinatedtea. Most pharmacies, like the one inLourmarin, blend their own tisanes and also sell other pre-packaged teas. I picked up one for relaxation, but are othersavailable to help with cough suppression, digestion, increasing energy, weight loss,mental acuity, and so on.

I left the pharmacy, my bag bulging with medicinal supplies,and headed back to La Bonbonnière whereI holed up for about two days. Ifaithfully used the Balsofumine, saline solution, and Actifed and drank lots ofliquids. It wasn’t long until I beforeemerged feeling re-energized to continue my adventures!

I returned to the pharmacy to poke around later in the week. The astute reader has already gathered that I love French pharmacies. They are not like the drug stores we find in the States that, over theyears, seem to have morphed into convenience stores. There is no ice cream, greeting cards, orfilm services. Definitely no alcohol(except the rubbing type!). In contrastto pharmacies in the States, the pharmacists are not behind a counter—they areout on the floor providing individual, highly professional help to eachperson. You may have to wait your turn,but when it arrives, you will have the pharmacist's undivided attention.

Pharmacie de Lourmarin - Photo: Pierre Schott

Health, hygiene, and cosmetic products are their focus. First aid is a significant part of theircommunity practice, an approach that undoubtedly shortens the long-lines inemergency rooms, thereby lowering health care costs, too. (Drug stores, such asCVS in the States, are experimenting with such a model in selected metropolitanareas, an approach our local pharmacist was very excited about.) Frenchpharmacies also sell and rent crutches, walkers, wheelchairs, blood pressurecuffs, etc., a service we made use of when our daughter injured her kneeplaying soccer and needed crutches. Theytake back unused drugs (and send them to third-world countries). They arerequired, as part of the government’s efforts to prevent the spread ofHIV/AIDS, to have condom vending machines outside the store (so that condomsare available 24/7). French pharmacies arean integral part of the community and the health care system.

So, the next time you are in France, make sure to look for theflashing neon green cross and stop in. If you are in the market for skin care products, consider Darphin,Institut Esthederm, La Roche Posay, Caudalie, and Nuxe. If you are havingtrouble adjusting to a different time zone—and your trips to the bathroom arenot productive—there are many products to help. If the powerful Mediterranean sun has taken its toll on your skin, thereis something for you (our daughter would recommend Osmo Soft). If you have a scar that just won’t go away,try Cicatryl. If you are feeling the effects of rich dinners and too much wine—acondition referred to as the crise defoie—there are lots of products from which to choose. And, if all that good food has added a kilo or two, there are antidotes forthat, too.

Pas de problème at the French pharmacie!

* Useful phrases when you visit a French pharmacy.

Je ne te fais pas de bises ca je suis enrhumé
I can’t give kisses because I have a cold.

Je suis en rhumé.
I have a cold.

Je suis malade.
I am ill.

J’ai une indigestion.
I have indigestion.

J’ai mal à la tête.
I have a headache.

J’ai une mauvaisetoux.
I have a bad cough.

J’ai mal au ventre.
I have a stomach ache.

J’ai de la fièvre.
I have a fever.

J’ai des frissons.
I have chills.

Examinez cetteblessure, s’il vous plait.
Please examine this wound.

J’ai une allergiecontre….
I am allergic to….

Avez-vous quelquechose contre un rhume?
Have you something for a cold?

J’ai pris un coup desoleil.
I have a sunburn.

Je voudrais del’aspirine.
I would like some aspirin.

Je voudrais voir vos produits debeauté
I would like to see your beauty products.

Je voudrais une tisane pour la constipation.
I would like a tisane for constipation.

S'il vous plaît vérifier si ces champignons sont mangeables?
Please check these mushrooms—are they okay to eat?

S'il vous plait, jeter un coup d’œil à la rougeursur mon bras. Oui, je viens juste de ramasser des figues et soudainement cesbosses sont éclatés partout. Ils sont très irritants. Non, jene savais pas que les branches defiguier sont irritantes. Oui, les figues étaienttout à fait délicieuses. Non, ce n'était pas mon figuier mais quelqu'unm'a dit que je pouvais les ramasser. Oui, je suis sûr les figues sont très bonsavec du miel et du Roquefort. Pardon? Vous voulez savoir où ce trouve lefiguier?
Please take a look at my rash on my arm. Yes, I was just picking figs and suddenlythese bumps broke out. They are veryitchy. No, I did not know that fig branches are irritants. Yes, they werequite delicious. No, it is not my fig tree. Someone told me I could pick thefigs. Yes, I am sure they are very good with honey and blue cheese. What? Youwant to know where the fig tree is?

NEED SOMETHING FOR MONDAY NIGHT’S DINNER? GO TO THE MARKET AT CADENET…AND, WHILE YOU’RE THERE, POKE AROUND!

2011-11-06T19:55:00.002-05:00

Mondays are the best day to visit Cadenet. Okay, some people will say that Monday is the only day to visit Cadenet. Oh heck, some people will wonder why Cadenet is even on our list of “Ten Markets We Always Visit in Provence.”

If you are a tourist planning your trip to Provence with the usual laundry list of places to go and things to see in a nano-second, neither Cadenet nor its market should be near the top—or even in the middle—of your list. But, if Monday has rolled around after a busy weekend and you forgot to plan for dinner or if you want to make Monday one of your days to putter, to discover, to experience life in the Luberon, make your way to Cadenet’s Monday morning market. You won’t find gaggles of tourists following tour guides or long lines of buses struggling to squeeze through tiny streets; but, you will find a decent market and an authentic Provençal town…and a lot more, if you poke around.

Cadenet, population around 4,000, has a long history. Strategically located above the Durance River, its expansive view of the comings and goings below were coveted by all those who wished to control the area. There is evidence of an oppidum—Latin word, loosely defined as a pre-Roman fortified settlement—that predates not just the Romans but also the Celts. The remains of oppidum walls and fortifications can still be seen just outside the center of town. The troglodytes—cave dwellings—in the cliffs were probably inhabited by this time, too. In the 8th century, the village was...
razed during Saracen invasions and, in the 11th century, it was rebuilt, including a fortified château at the top of the hill. The turbulence of the Middle Ages was more than the 11th century château could withstand: it was destroyed and rebuilt several times, leaving only ruins today.

Even Cadenet’s Market has a long history: the edict that a Market was to be held every Monday dates back to 1566.

From Lourmarin (about 5 km away and the center of our universe when in Provence), you will approach Cadenet from the south, the direction from which either of the main roads will take you. You will see a cacophony of tiny homes—all topped with various patterns of terra cotta—climbing up the sides of a tree-studded hill toward the troglodyte dwellings and, at the very top, the remains of the aforementioned château. It’s an inviting sight, setting expectations that may need to be adjusted as you continue toward the center of town.

At the small (very small) traffic circle into which the D943 leads you, turn to the LEFT (away from the center). You will pass one of the main branches of Credit Agricole (which is closed on Mondays, but the ATM remains in service). Take the first LEFT, following signs for Cucuron, and continue along that road until you reach a t-intersection, with a church, Eglise St-Etienne, on your left (beyond the parking lot). Park around here, on the street or, in the busy summer months, turn right and follow the signs for parking in a nearby municipal lot (free). Walk toward the church (more on this church below) and pass it, as you walk toward centreville. You will see the Market in the distance.

You will find good-looking produce at this end of the Market. One of my favorite vendors—a couple who are also in the Cucuron Market—have very fresh fruits and vegetables and an equally friendly manner. Another of our favorite vendors—a couple who are also in the Lourmarin Market—are set up a little further in. There, you can find olives galore, tapenade, anchovies, marinated artichokes and peppers, and an excellent pizza oil.

As you walk toward the center of town—designated by the “Drummer Boy” in his place du Tambour d’Arcole—you will find paella, pizza, Asian food, cheese, chicken roasting on a spit, soap, honey, and hardware. Interspersed among those items are an atypically large number of vendors selling clothes and accessories, ranging from the practical—underwear and socks featuring whoever are the currently popular cartoon characters—to the (arguably) fashionable sweaters and jeans, with headbands and flip flops in between. (In striking contrast to the Market in neighboring Lourmarin, there are very few scarves or linen blouses, dresses, jackets, and the like.)

As always in the Markets in Provence, the aromas are so irresistible that my basket is quickly filled to the brim!

You will soon recognize the bronze statue, erected in 1894, of André Estienne. The name may not be familiar, but, if you have been reading those tour books, you have undoubtedly seen the statue of the “Drummer Boy” who joined the Luberon Regiment at the tender age of 14 and became a drummer in the Napoleonic army. During the battle of Arcole (Italy) on November 15, 1796, this young man swam across the Alpone River and, there, beat his drum so hard that the Austrians thought they were hearing the gun fire of the Republican Army from the rear, enabling Napoleon to charge and take control. The young drummer boy from Cadenet received the Legion of Honor at 26 years-old. It is a captivating statue—André appears frozen in motion!

The Office de Tourisme is right there, on the place du Tambour d’Arcole, and Le Tabac is across the street. Guided tours are available through the tourist office during the summer.

As you begin to retrace your steps, pick up some bread from a very small patisserie, located just north of the place. The proprietor is an endearing woman with a warm smile who enjoys chatting with her customers.

So, with your baguette in hand and your basket laden with goodies, what are a visitor’s options? Hmmm….picnic?

If it is a pleasant day—most are in Provence—we encourage you to go up to the top of the hill where what’s left of the château remains! The view is spectacular—that’s one thing the invaders could not destroy—and, on a clear day, you can easily see Montagne Sainte-Victoire and les Alpilles as well as the Durance River and the Luberon countryside. (This area has been turned into an open-air theatre—what a wonderful setting for a concert!)

We suggest driving your car—the long and winding road is clearly marked—up to the parking lot atop the hill, although one can certainly walk. From the parking lot, the ambitious visitors can engage in the exercise circuit and the rest of us can walk around what remains of the medieval château that was destroyed during the Wars of Religion, replaced, and largely destroyed again during the Revolution. The troglodyte dwellings, as mentioned above, are thought to date back well over 2000 years. During the 16th century, the Waldensian Protestants sought refuge in these cave dwellings. Others continued to live in them until the 1960s.

It is a wonderful spot to pause and take in the beauty of the area—even without a picnic!

Another popular destination—especially for kids on one of those really hot summer days—is a man-made lake, Étang de la Bonde.

If it is a chilly day—or you don’t have blankets and beach towels in the back of your car—I would suggest lunch at Saveurs Indochine. Located just north of la Patisserie—you could hold your breath and be there—this Chinese restaurant does a brisk à emporter (take-out) business as well as dine-in business. We ate there recently—we both ordered the 12.50 euro prix fixe menu—and had a marvelous lunch! The owner was delightfully friendly—he even showed us how to fold the napkins into little birds—and the food was very good. Did I say inexpensive, too?!

Or, you could visit the Musée de la Vannerie, just south of the center of town, on avenue Philippe de Girard. This is a basket museum, build where, in the late 18th century, a thriving wicker basket industry once stood. Using the branches of willow trees along the banks of the Durance River to make the baskets, Cadenet was famous for its basket weaving for many years. Now, most baskets hail from Northern Africa.

If an in-season vegetable or fruit eluded you at the market—or if you prefer organic— there is a wonderful bioligique produce store just south of town, on D943. We always stop here on the way into Lourmarin from the airport or TGV station.

On your way back to your car, stop at the church, Eglise St-Etienne (St. Stephen’s Church). Built between the 12 h and 16th centuries, atop the site of a chapel dating to the 7th century, the church is worth a stop. It is a peaceful place to rest after a morning at the Market. The lighting was striking. After our last visit to the church, I read that it has a 3rd century baptismal font with reliefs depicting a Bacchic orgy. The font is the subject of a disagreement among those who study these things: was it originally used as a sarcophagus or a bath tub? A reason to stop by again…

Nearby villages—those that are more likely to be on your tourist radar and some of our favorite places like Ansouis, Cucuron, Vaugines, Tour d’Aigues—might be interesting stops on a circuitous drive back to Lourmarin or wherever you are lucky enough to be staying. But, you may already have whiled away half the day in—gasp!—Cadenet. It may be time to start Monday night’s dinner…or at least time for an apéritif. Such is life in la belle Provence….

Additional information:

Office of Tourism
Place du Tambour d’Arcole
Tel: 04 90 68 38 21
www.ot-cadenet.com
Email: ot-cadenet@wanadoo.fr

Saveurs Indochine
4, rue Viala
Tel: 04 90 68 28 91 or 06 10 42 29 45

Musée de la Vannerie seems to be open Mondays, Thursday, Fridays, and Saturdays 10:00-12:00 and 2:30 -6:30; and on Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Sundays, from 2:30-6:30. It may be closed during the off-season, but open by appointment. Call 04 90 68 24 44 or email musee-vannerie@cg84.fr to be sure.

MAYOR BLAISE DIAGNE WANTS LOURMARIN TO BE AN “OPEN VILLAGE” THAT “WELCOMES ALL”…. We think he’s been successful!

2011-10-30T11:36:00.000-04:00

Sometimes I wonder what draws people to Lourmarin. I have visited many villages now, some completely devoid of appeal—even in Provence, such villages do exist—and others with loads of appeal—things tourist books like to mention such as breathtaking views, perfectly manicured window boxes, picturesque squares, streets lined with high-end boutiques, a river running through the center of town, or a perched locale—but, when I return to Lourmarin, a humble village whose charm does not gush out all over but rather seeps, gently, into your heart, I smile broadly and oh-so happily. For generations, its draw has been immensely strong for many people.

Lourmarin’s appeal was the subject of discussion with my friend Pam last week. Upon our return to Lourmarin, after touring other villages in the Vaucluse on behalf of a friend considering the purchase of a home nearby, Pam said, “Let’s pretend that we’ve just arrived in Lourmarin…what would we say?...why do we like it so much?”

Rue Henri de Savornin

We drove through the center of town, bumping along the cobblestone-lined rue Henri de Savornin--which really resembles a lane more than the main drag that it is—and passed la Boulangerie Patisserie Riquier (with a line out the door), several galleries (including le atelier galerie Gerard Isirdi), dozens and dozens of café tables...
lining both sides of the road, and Super-Taf II (someday I will devote a full post to this store and its proprietor!).

Boulangerie Patisserie Riquier

Atelier Isirdi

SuperTaf II

People were laughing, hands were embracing one another, and bises were exchanging between friends. There was an instantly recognizable joie de vivre that was missing in many of the other villages we had recently visited, many of which had the attractive physical characteristics I mentioned above but not the soul that emanates from this village.

A Sunday morning at Café Gaby

We rounded the corner and saw the plane trees that line one side of the road. All was quiet; but that would change the next day when market vendors line the road and the Lourmarinouis would turn out in droves to buy their produce, olives, spices, honeys, fish, meats, breads, cheeses, and the like.

The sun was starting its descent, casting a lovely light on the 15th century Château, which stands sentinel on the edge of the village. The verdant green pasture rolled down to the tiny stream that separates that field from the brightly lit soccer field, where my daughter has played many soccer games. Three donkeys were walking slowly from the rear of the château to the road where we parked our car. The lovely early 19th century Protestant church stands nearby. It was a storybook sight.

“Do we buy our wine for dinner from Les Caves du Château?” (How many châteaux can boast that a fabulous selection of wine is sold from a cave beneath the property?)

Tasting Wine at Les Caves du Château

“Nah.” We opted for La Maison d’Ingrid to buy our wine because I wanted to buy some honey, too

la Maison d'Ingrid

We placed our order for our pizza—the best in the Luberon—from Le Pan Garni, on the newly created place du Temple. We will pick it up later.

Place du Temple at night overlooking the Château

We walked toward the center of town. We passed many people along the way, a few cats and a few untethered dogs. Pretty doorways delighted us, small stores and galleries beckoned us, but we headed to Café Gaby where Pam and I had a rendezvous scheduled and where, comme d'habitude, we were warmly welcomed by the waiters. Pam, who lives in a small village in the Var, said, “I always feel at home in Lourmarin.”

Lourmarin makes you feel that way. I hear it over and over from people I know and people I don’t know. For our family, from the moment we set foot in this tiny village of just around 1000 people, over a dozen years ago, we have felt welcomed and have felt drawn back, again and again, over the years. I still can’t put my finger on exactly “why.”

The current Mayor of Lourmarin, Blaise Diagne, in a recent interview, said that “Lourmarinois have been welcoming since the Gallo-Roman times.”

Blaise, as Lourmarin’s Mayor is known by most people, pointed out that even after the many religious wars, although there were horrible massacres on both sides, Lourmarin was always quick to accept the differences among its people.

Blaise was initially introduced to Lourmarin, as a child, during his summer holidays. His mother, originally from Briançon in the Hautes-Alpes department of Provence, owned a farm in the village. Blaise’s parents met when his father, from Senegal, arrived in the South of France as part of the French troops during World War II.

In 1987, Blaise made Lourmarin his home when he moved from Paris to his family summer home. Shortly after his arrival, he was encouraged to join the conseil municipal by the mayor at that time, Mayor Barthélémy (namesake for Lourmarin’s new expansive Place where the Tabac, the Bibliothèque, and the Cave de Lourmarin (the local wine cooperative), among other shops and cafés, are now located).

Place Barthélémy

In 1989, Blaise joined the conseil, arguably following the footsteps of his grandfather of the same name who was the first African deputy in the French National Assembly, back in the early 1900s. Blaise worked with Mayor Barthélémy for 12 years, at which time the Mayor encouraged him to run for his mayoral seat. Blaise did run, he explained, not because he intended to pursue a political career, but because “Lourmarin was the center of my interests.” The rest is history.

As Mayor, Blaise has been particularly motivated to “create a future for the youngsters of Lourmarin.” He believes that the future is dependent on young people and strives to give them the education they need and to encourage them to respect others and to be courteous.”

Local children in Lourmarin

“People have always had to work together to make things work out [in Lourmarin],” Blaise said. “The land around Lourmarin is not the most fertile; so people who worked that land had to rely on each other to make things work.”

Mutual respect, working together, and a healthy enjoyment of life are part of this man’s philosophy of life. His actions are demonstrative of this philosophy: We frequently see him, hammer in hand, assembling a stage for the annual village fête; strolling through the market, greeting everyone; or chatting with a resident, papers spread across the table, at one of the local cafes. (In fact, he was late to this interview because he was moving a bookcase to the second floor of the school!)

Mayor Blaise Diagne declined to have his photo taken in our
interview, saying that the article is about Lourmarin, not him.
We did, however, snap this shot of him (on left) early one
Sunday morning.

Although Blaise describes himself as an “atypical mayor,” with his background, his approach to his mayoral role is not surprising. He worked in factories in Paris for ten years and became very involved in associations (unions). In these roles, Blaise feels that he learned the importance of having respect for others and accepting diversity in people. This background set the stage for his desire to reinforce Lourmarin’s openness, to instill a respect for others, and to encourage diversity—ethnic, cultural, and societal—in the village.

Lourmarin has not been immune to the effects of the current depressed global economy. Tourism has declined.

“Tourism is important to our economy because it supports the local community,” Blaise said. “But, we do not set out to change the village to attract more tourists….We want people to come because they like to be in our village and because they feel welcomed.”

When asked about the recent closure of Le Moulin, Blaise replied that “We would certainly prefer to have a gastronomic restaurant instead of an empty building,” and added that, “We can only hope that another fine restaurant chooses to install itself in its place.”

When asked what his greatest achievement as mayor is, Mayor Diagne said, “I do not have any single great achievement.” He went on, “For me, the greatest achievement is having a village that functions well every day.” Upon reflection, he added, “It is the daily life of the village that is important, that people are enjoying the daily life.”

Shopping for flowers in Lourmarin

Trick or Treating in Lourmarin


A Dog's Life in Lourmarin (unless you are stuck in a 2CV!)

A reflective moment on place de Temple

Mayor Diagne relayed the story of a recent interaction with a young boy to illustrate what gives him a sense of gratification. This boy, who was known to be a “bit mischievous,” found a wallet, which he asked Blaise to return to its owner. When Blaise returned the wallet, the owner asked him to pass on a 10 euro reward to the boy.

“When I gave the reward money to the boy, he was very happy and ran off,” Blaise said, “But, he stopped and ran back to me and said ‘could you please tell the man thank you.’”

“This is a story that gives me the greatest satisfaction and is a great achievement,” Blaise said, and smiled.

The previous Mayor of Lourmarin held that office for 36 years. When asked if he would like to stay in office as long, Blaise replied, “[that] at a certain point, the village needs new blood and new ideas.” He will move on “when it makes sense.”

From our vantage point, we hope that it makes sense for him to sit at the helm for at least little while longer. Albert Camus, Henri Bosco, Peter Mayle, Laurent Tardieu and many other less famous visitors to this alluring village have felt very welcome. We don’t know exactly why, but can say with certainty that Mayor Blaise has been successful in continuing the tradition of making Lourmarin an “open village” that “welcomes all.”

Lourmarin - a most welcoming village in the Luberon

JACQUELINE BRICARD WELCOMES NAÏF ARTISTS TO LOURMARIN

2011-10-16T14:14:00.000-04:00

Naïf art is that which takes inspiration from the soul. The artists who produce this style of work are generally self-taught or at least not academically trained. Their work is therefore free from any prescribed convention. Their work is usually characterized by very bright and bold colors, distortions in perspective and size, and a seemingly childlike or simplistic style (although a closer examination reveals that the work is neither although it certainly appeals to the child in each of us!).

If you are a fan of Naïf--naive--artwork or if you are at all curious about it, Lourmarin is the place to be now through November 6, 2011.

A huge exhibition, representing the work of 65 artists from 17 different countries, opened on October 1 in this tiny village. Located at the base of the Montagne du Luberon, this charming village, with a population hovering around 1000, is considered the cultural hub of the Luberon. It is home to over a dozen art galleries and, throughout the years, many writers have chosen this village to be home, most notably Albert Camus, Henri Bosco, and Peter Mayle. It is a lovely village in which to showcase this impressive exhibit.

As you read through this article, be sure to click on the links highlighted on the title of each painting. They will lead you to a photograph of each painting.

Madame Jacqueline Bricard, who owns La Galerie d'Art Naïf on Place de l'Eglise in Lourmarin, organized the show, which is her second major show extending beyond the gallery. The impetus for the first show, in 2009, stemmed from a discussion with merchants about how to continue to attract people to the village after the summer crowds have dissipated but the famous Provençal weather remains inviting.

The result was the Salon d'Automne à Lourmarin 2009 which was entitled "L'Europe et les Naïfs." It was a rousing success: over 6000 people attended in five weeks. Not surprisingly, an encore was requested, resulting in the current show.

About 300 paintings comprise the 2011 show, all painted specifically for this exhibit. Artists from sixteen European countries and from Brazil are represented. The majority of the work hails from France with Brazil having the second largest representation, followed by Belgium, Spain, Holland, and Italy, each with four or five artists. One or two artists come from each of these countries: Germany, England, Croatia, Finland, Greece, Poland, Portugal, Romania, Serbia, Switzerland, and Turkey.

An exhibit this large, as they say, "takes a village" and Lourmarin has certainly stepped up to the plate. Madame Bricard has enjoyed the support of the Mayor, Monsieur Blaise Diagne, and the local merchants but I am told she nevertheless worked tirelessly to ensure the success of this exhibit. In August, I myself often saw Madame Bricard--she's very hard to miss, this attractive, very patrician woman with her perfectly coifed silver hair and radiant smile--along with her constant canine companion, a black lab mix with a graying snout, as they went around the Lourmarin, toting promotional posters that she hung in glass cases around the village.

I happened to be in Lourmarin as the exhibit was unfolding and had the opportunity to talk with Madame Bricard. What a distinct pleasure it was to spend some time with this extraordinary woman whose energy certainly belies her years.

Madame Jacqueline Bricard

We sat in the living room of her maison de village, adjacent to the gallery. Surrounded by Naïf paintings, as well as other art work, we talked about her initial introduction to this type of art.

"For five years, while my husband worked with Air France, we lived in Yugoslavia," she began. It was there that she developed her fondness for....
this art, one that would continue to grow over the years.

The appeal, she explained, was due in part to the fact that the artists "did not know about painting."

"In the winter, when they couldn't work on their farms, they painted," she continued. "And they painted what they knew--their life."

On the walls of her home hang some of the first paintings she acquired from this early introduction. They are very simple, even primitive, paintings and pen-and-ink drawings of peasant life in Yugoslavia. Their simplicity, though, does not deter the strong feelings that they are able to elicit in the observer.

Nearby are Naïf paintings from Brazil, a country near and dear to Madame Bricard's heart. It's where her father was from and where she spent the formative years of her life. Her love of Naïf art sprang forth from her experiences with such art work there, too.

It was not until 1985, when she moved to Marseille, that Madame Bricard organized her first Naïf art exhibit which, not surprisingly, featured work for her beloved Brazil and Yugoslavia. Shortly, thereafter, she moved to Lourmarin where she opened her gallery twenty years ago.

Lourmarin is fortunate to have Madame Bricard among its residents and everyone I spoke with recognized this. "Extraordinaire" was the adjective most often used. Visiting artists I spoke with shared these sentiments.

Madame Bonniol and Madame Bricard

Danielle Bonniol, from Marseille, said over and over, "personne extraordinaire" and shook her head to emphasize how hard it is to imagine how much this one person has accomplished in the world of Naïf Art.

Because Madame Bricard's gallery could not possibly hold all the artwork--and to encourage visitors to explore all parts of the village--the paintings are on exhibit in Le Chateau Vieux and la Bibliothèque and in the display windows of nearly all the local shops (37 in total).

Even the children of Lourmarin were involved in this event. Madame Bonniol, the French Naïf artist from Marseille, spent a day with the children from the local elementary school in Lourmarin (where our daughter attended school ten years ago). She talked to them about what Naïf art means and then worked with them to produce the paintings on the windows of L'Espace Camus.

Danielle Bonniol worked with children to paint windows at l'Espace Camus

A reception for the painters was held in the chateau on Saturday evening, October 8th. I'm not sure what the official number of attendees was, but my quick head count suggested well over 100 people during the first hour alone. It was a most convivial crowd, enjoying the colorful, whimsical often humorous paintings. Wine was flowing thanks to the generosity of La Cave à Lourmarin (the local wine cooperative) and desserts were served, courtesy of le Boulangerie Riquier (the bakery on rue Henri de Savornin where we prefer to buy our baguettes).

Forty of the artists were in attendance, chatting with attendees. Of course, I couldn't understand most of what they were saying, but I could feel the excitement in the air. Perhaps because Naïf artists, in contrast to academically trained artists, are said to take their inspiration more from their souls rather than from their brains, conversation is more passionate. Perhaps conversation with artists of this genre is liberated by the fanciful worlds they create on their canvases. As Muriel Schott of Galerie Jacqueline Bricard explained to me, "they create fabulous worlds that you want to live in because there are no worries."

Stjepan Pongrac, the lone artist from Croatia, had a circle of people gathered around to watch him paint. He uses a typically Croatian technique called "reverse oil painting on glass," which results in intensely bright colors because the oil paint is applied directly on the glass. In contrast to painting on canvas, the artist begins with his or her signature, followed by the main images and foreground, and then the background. This approach entails layers and layers of paint, with each layer drying completely before proceeding to the next. It was very interesting to watch.

Monsieur Pongrac's work, like many Naïf artists from Eastern Europe, is dominated by bucolic landscapes. Many of the painters in these countries are farmers, painting at night and during the winter months, so it's not surprising that they would use what they know best as their springboard. Monsieur Pongrac's work tends to have a prominent single individual. In one case, this is a scarecrow, aptly entitled "l'épouvantail". In another of his paintings, "Centenaire du Douanier Rousseau", he pays homage to Henri Rousseau, for whom the term "Naïf" was first applied around the turn of the 19th century to describe his work.

I found myself smiling as I moved around the exhibit that evening. It is impossible to write about all of the work. "Enchanting," might best sum up my feelings about the paintings I saw that evening and over the course of the next few days. With no claim of being an art critic, I will just mention a few that stood out for me, among so many that I really liked.

J. P. Lorand's "Pique-nique au Chateau" appears on the promotional poster we had seen Madame Bricard hanging around the village. I was immediately drawn to the painting in the chateau. I thought of how picnics have been portrayed in the well-known works of Manet (1863) and Monet (1866), both entitled, "Le Déjeuner sur l'Herbe." Whether dressed in long gowns or nothing at all, the picnic is always inviting, as is Lorand's picnic that takes place in front of the chateau in which we all now stood. Lourmarin is the setting for two other paintings by this Belgian artist who I had the pleasure of meeting a few days later.

Jean Pierre Lorand and the poster of Pique Nique au Chateau

English painter Linda F. Trott's "Le Déménagement" was another one that spoke to me. It is a very colorful and detailed depiction of a couch being moved into a fourth floor flat as the neighbors are watching. Very French, complete with a Citroën 2CV.

I spotted Madame Bonniol's charming painting "Le Concert" as well as a peaceful panorama of Lourmarin.

"Dancing Foxes" by Finnish artist Aimo Katajainer is very sweet and the same artist's "Le Grand Artiste" illustrates the subtle humor often seen in Naïf art.

Very simple oversized figures dominate Nicole Avezard's appealing work. It was interesting to me to learn that this artist's profession is engineering; she is an "ingénieur en mécanique des fluides" and she is the creator of a theater group called "Vamps."

The gigantic gray cat in the center of Jacqueline Benoit's "Le Chat" can't help but make a cat lover smile. For the dog lover, there is the brightly colored charming "Une Vie de Chien" by Elisabeth Davy-Bouttier.

Spanish painter Tito Lucaveche's "La Vie en Rose" with Edith Piaf performing under a bright spotlight in a crowded cabaret was definitely a crowd pleaser in the Chateau.

I found myself returning for another look at "Factory" by Alain Donnat, a very interesting painting of a crowd's appreciation of a lone flower in the midst of an industrial world. The theme of this painting seemed unusual for a Naïf artist and more reminiscent of the Impressionists during the Industrial Revolution.

Françoise Syx's work has a haunting appeal, especially "La Petite Fille a la Cage."

Greek Artist Sophia Kalogeropoulo's lovely paintings are bright and look as if they are covered in lace.

Foune's "Les Melons" which shows a parade of men on the Champs Élysées, all donning black bowler hats -- à la surrealistic painter Rene Magritte--except one who wears a red hat and carries a red rose. Is that the unconventional Naïf painter? In my conversation with Madame Bricard, I asked her about this painting. She told me that Foune, who was born in 1927, has a real sense of humor. Madame Bricard thought that the men--all the men--looked remarkably similar to the artist's husband.

Other paintings by Foune can be seen in the gallery and in store windows around town. "Calèche" hangs in the gallery, a lovely composition of a gentleman lifting his lady friend from a horse drawn carriage. The brilliant blue fan of her skirt juxtaposed with the carriage driver's bright red coat against the backdrop of 19th century Paris is lovely. Foune's "L'Endormie," in the gallery also has this artist's splashes of red and blue as well as some humor. See if you can figure out why it is called "The Sleepers."

"Les Petits Fours" is a simple but charming painting of three regal women who seem entranced by a plate of petits fours. It rests in the window of La Cuisine à Simone on rue Henri de Savornin.

Les Petit Fours by Foune displayed at La Cuisine àSimone

Alain Carron's work is very interesting and seems to include elements of surrealism. His "Lettres Anonymes" looks ominous as black birds and a jester seem to be in charge of the letters.

Swiss painter Carole B. Perret's work is striking in its humor, which Madame Schott said was a characteristic of Naïf painters from Switzerland. One can't help but smile when you look at her "Esprit d'Equipe" depicting a team of young nuns with angelic faces pedaling to keep up with the stern-faced nun on a unicycle.

My friend, Pru Harrington who owns and rents L'Oustaloun, accompanied me on my third visit to the gallery. She was very drawn to paintings of the sea, particularly those by French artist Bernard Ambielle. "Looking at these paintings makes me feel good," she said. "I love their use of color, their free-spirited style, and the joy I see in their paintings...they transport me!"

Pru Harrington in front of Galerie d'Art Naïf

The Naïf paintings from Brazil are on exhibit in La Bibliothèque, located on Place H. Barthelemy. I found my friend Madame Schott overseeing the paintings on the day I went. There, I was immediately struck by the tropical landscapes-- it was clear we had moved to the equator.

Muriel in Naïf Art exhibit in la Bibliothèque

Madame Schott pointed out that the lighting was also different in these paintings. "Each country has different lighting," Madame Schott explained. "Brazilian artists tend to create a wonderful luminescence in their work." Indeed, the light from the images of the sun--and the moon-- seemed to glow on the canvas.

"C'est magnifique," one visitor said in reference to the lighting. "C'est très frais," she added, which, roughly translated, means that the work is fresh, vibrant, bright. I'd have to agree.

As I chatted with my dear friend Muriel, many people came in to view the exhibit. The universal response to this art work seems to be a smile. As the economy continues to takes it's toll in Europe and around the world, perhaps we will see more Naïf Art.

I thought back to my conversation with Madame Bricard. I had asked her if she ever picked up a paint brush.

"No," she said. "I don't have the imagination to do that."

Perhaps not for painting, but Madame Bricard does "do a little writing." In fact, in the catalogue for the 2009 Exhibition, Madame Bricard wrote a poem about each of the participating artists. She also wrote a poem to express her feelings about Naïf Art. I've included it here, in French, because Madame Bricard said that her feelings would not be adequately conveyed in any language other than her own.

Madame Bricard and canine companion Sam

_________________________________________________________________

The artwork is available for purchase. Please send inquiries to Jacqueline Bricard: jbricard@wanadoo.fr 04-90-68-20-93

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SATURDAY MORNINGS IN PROVENCE: WE’RE APT TO BE IN APT

2011-10-09T13:29:00.006-04:00

The heart of Apt, where the market unfolds every Saturday, is a labyrinth of narrow streets dating back to its Roman period. Julius Caesar is said to have christened the town Apta Julia in 125 BCE. Then, it was an important town on the Via Domitia, the main passage between Italy and Spain. Later, in the Middle Ages, Apt was a principal religious center.

Little evidence of Apt’s Roman days remain but the lovely 11th/12th century Sainte Anne Cathedral--actually, it was relegated to a basilica in the early 19th century--dedicated to the mother of the Virgin Mary, is testimony to Apt’s importance as a religious center for 500 years or so. The church was built on what was left of the Roman forum, parts of which can still be seen in the church’s basement (I am told).

Now, Apt (population about 12,000) is the most important city on the D900 (formerly the N100). There, at the intersection with the D943 (otherwise known at the Route d’Apt), it retains its importance in Provence as the administrative headquarters for the Vaucluse Department.

Apt is also an important commercial center. It long ago established itself as the world's capital for fruit confit (sugar-preserved fruit). Apt is also widely known for its confiture (jam), honey, and lavender products; a thriving truffle business from December to February; ochre mining; and faience pottery.

Fruit Confit

Bustling with government and commercial activity during the week, come Saturday, the streets are alive with top-notch vendors and faithful shoppers. It is one of the most vibrant markets in the area—and one of our favorites!

There are much prettier markets in the area—Aix, Lourmarin, and Cucuron come to mind—but Apt is for serious shoppers, practical shoppers who appreciate high quality. We always find what we are looking for, in abundance, beautifully displayed, and sold with huge smiles. The produce and prepared foods are especially good at this market. Specialty items, particularly those designed with tourists in mind, are better sought in other markets (St. Remy and Gordes come to mind).

It is a large market and it is crowded, even in the winter when the mornings can be pretty chilly. Take your basket and nothing more—okay, a camera, but no back packs, big purses, baby carriages or dogs—as too much baggage takes the fun out of navigating the tiny streets so filled with people.

From Lourmarin, drive north on Route d’Apt. Signage to Apt is very clear. We usually park on the main drag into town, Ave Phillippe de Girard, and walk up to the west end of the market. (There is other parking, further north, over the bridge on the left.)

Just before entering the west end of the market, at Place de la Bouquerie, there is a wonderful bakery, Le Fournil du Luberon. If you feel the need for a boost before beginning the market, pick up one of their beautiful pastries and settle into a table at Café du Louvre for a café crème to accompany your treat. (They don’t sell pastries, so it’s okay to BYOP!) Great people-watching spot, too!

Le Fournil in Place de la Bouquerie

Café du Louvre

By 8:00, the large Place de la Bouquerie will be filled with vendors displaying their wares. One immediately sees hand-crafted furniture; brightly colored linens and fabrics as well as those in the more traditional earth tones; award-winning olive oils as well as olives galore; soaps bearing the scents of lavender, verbena, wild rose, orange-blossom; hats of myriad sizes and shapes, some to keep the southern sun off your face and others to contribute to the Provençal style you may be cultivating; jewelry; and sausages (but don’t get me started on those just yet).

A pleasant cacophony of sounds—live music, chatter, laughter, honking horns, and the occasional roar of a motorcycle—fills the air and one feels buoyed by the energy (if not actually lifted by the crowds).

We ventured into the market one Saturday in August. Not wanting to be laden with cumbersome purchases as we began our tour of the market, we made a mental note to return to the vendors in this Place for pizza oil, cushions made of Provencal fabric for our chairs (4 for 15 euros), a plasticized round tablecloth (high quality ones are hard to find), a bundle of lavande (3.50 euros for a lovely, fragrant bouquet from nearby Mont Ventoux), and a braid of garlic.

The sausages—les saucissons—always command our attention. Rows of neatly lined tubes of air-dried sausage made from beef, pork, and sanglier—or some combination thereof—and infused with rosemary, garlic, mushroom, truffle, herbes de Provence or fennel (to name just a few) are hard for us to resist. We bought six (and immediately wondered how we could get them back to New England).

Les Saucissons

A nearby stall—new to us—was our next stop. Everything is made from epeautre, a relative of spelt. In English, this grain is called einkorn wheat (which is a German word that translates into "single grain"). Some readers may be interested to know that this grain is thought to be kinder than other forms of wheat to people with gluten intolerances. A local cooperative, Syndicat du Petit Epeautre de Haute Provence, produces the epeautre.

Petit Epeautre cooperative at the market

We purchased a hulled version of the grain called Le Petit Epeautre de Haute Provence. Risotto, soup, pancakes, and hot breakfast cereal are some of the meals one can make from le petit epeautre. We have thoroughly enjoyed the hot cereal, cooked with both water and milk and a couple of dates (for sweetness). We top our cereal with a few walnuts, almonds, and a dollop of plain yogurt. For two people, a quarter of a cup goes a long way.

We also bought a package of organic pasta made from spelt’s relative, Tagliatelles de Petit Epeautre sans Oeufs. It was terrific. I am a big fan of spelt pasta but, generally, find it to be very fragile (little room for error in timing or else the pasta becomes chewy); this pasta was robust. We prepared it with a fresh tomato-basil sauce and were bowled over by its great taste and texture! Suffice to say that we will be returning to buy more from this vendor!

The stand with the stunning fresh-cut flowers and plants was next. The sheer beauty of these glorious flowers will stop you in your tracks (but not for long because the bewitching scent of roasting chicken is calling you).

You follow the scent to Place Gabriel Péri, a pretty square framed by the large town hall (la mairie) and the préfecture headquarters (administrative services including police). In this Place, you will find vendors selling picture-perfect produce—the huge heads of lettuce are amazing—and local honey produced by bees who have gathered nectar from trees and plants such as rosemary, lavender or even eucalyptus. The succulent chickens, turning on spits with wafting aromas you detect long before you lay eyes on them, are here as well as an enormous selection of cheeses, fresh pasta, and Chinese food. We left with our basket laden with tomatoes, eggplants, lettuce of several varieties, honey, and lots of pasta. (We ate the Chinese food on the spot and had a nice chat with the proprietor.)

We poked along rue des Marchands where we soon found a poissonier with a dazzling array of seafood. A long line wrapped around the stall, not surprisingly, as the fish were so fresh that their eyes were still bright and seemed to stare at us as we considered a purchase. Hard to resist; but we had just decided on a dinner of that fresh pasta along with a sauce made from those lusciously fresh tomatoes we just bought and a big green salad with baguette toasts, each topped with a thin layer of local honey, another of caviar d'aubergine, and a final coat of very fresh chevre, melted under the broiler.

Place du Septier, our next stop, is a lovely square where a wonderful vegetarian restaurant calls home. Les Gourmands Disent has simple tasty fare that is inexpensive and served in a friendly atmosphere. One of our favorite potters, Atelier Buisson-Kessler, also has a shop here. I love their brightly colored pottery! (They also have a store in Lourmarin, on rue de la Juiverie, right next to our apartment, La Bonbonnière.)

Atelier Buisson-Kessler Pottery

As we made our way back to the beginning, we walked along rue de la République where there is a small, very good Moroccan restaurant, La Fibule (120 rue de la République) and another newly opened restaurant, Chez Nous (87-93 rue de la République), which we did not visit however it looked very good.

We return to Place du Bouquerie where we pick up the items too cumbersome to carry around the market. We wonder how will we fit four chair cushions in our luggage, but all agree that they will look great on our outdoor chairs.

Our Apt market cushions look great!

As you ponder your possibilities for the rest of the day, consider a stop at the Tourist Office, across from that wonderful bakery to which we introduced you at the beginning of this piece. (Le Fournil, the bakery, offers light-fare for take-away lunch, too!)

Apt’s greatest draw is its fabulous market, but Saint Anne’s Church is worth a visit (if you didn’t already make a stop while in the market!). Apt also has two museums, one on archaeology and area history and another on the history of the industrial era in the area.

Saint Anne Cathedral
Photo: Szeder László

Apt is also home to the world’s largest sugar-preserved fruit factory, Confiserie Kerry Aptunion, on the out-skirts of town.

Le Pont Julien, a Roman bridge dating back to 3 BCE and in use until 2005 when a replacement bridge was built, is not too far away. (Americans--like those of us in Portsmouth, New Hampshire where the 88-year-old Memorial Bridge was just permanently closed and is awaiting dismantling--may wish the Romans were still around to build our bridges.)

Pont Julien
Photo: Hawobo

There much to do and see. But, with all those goodies from the market, you may just want to go home and start dinner!

LA FERME DE CHEVRE – RESERVATIONS FOR FIVE….AND A FEW GOATS

2011-07-31T16:50:00.004-04:00

Note: This is not an experience for everyone--those with an aversion to narrow winding roads, a preference for vegetarian meals, and disinclination to dining with farm animals would want to skip this excursion. Fans of David Sedaris’ most recent book, “Squirrel Seeks Chipmunk: A Modest Bestiary,” will no doubt be inspired.

Tired of white linens, sommeliers, and Michelin stars? Consider lunch at Le Castelas, a working goat farm, for another kind of Provençal dining experience.

Susan and David

From Lourmarin, where La Bonbonnière, our apartment, is located, the drive is just 22 kilometers (a little over 12 miles), but—up the hill, through the woods, into the valley, past fields of lavender, and on to the plateau—you will feel like you have been transported to another time and place. Leaving Lourmarin, you will head north on the Route d’Apt (D943), alongside the Aigue Brun, a spring-fed tributary of the Durance that contributes to the lush scenery you will enjoy. About 10 kilometers (not sure how many), turn right on the D232 and, about a half dozen (or so) kilometers farther, go right on the D114 toward Sivergues.

Click to enlarge

There are many places to visit in this area, some of which are mentioned at the end of this piece. We usually save the excursions for after lunch because we tend to linger over our grande crèmes in the morning and prefer a leisurely trip back to Lourmarin, but one could just as easily make the stops in the morning.

Pass through the tiny village of Sivergues (but plan to stop on the way back) until you reach the sign that says “Fin de la Route.” The paved road turns to gravel and gets even narrower, but travel a little further until you see the Ferme-Auberge le Castelas, a farm, restaurant, and hostel rolled into one.

The setting is so magnificent and inspiring; you might feel like breaking into a chorus of “On a clear day, you can see forever….” I am told that, on such a day, one can see the Alps, but we happily settled for a gorgeous view of sweeping fields with neighboring villages and awesome rock formations in the distance.

Sweeping fields at Le Castelas

Nearby rock formations

The stone farm house is rambling and rustic. As you approach the terrace where the long tables beckon you for lunch, you pass by clusters of goats, pigs, and sheep, kind of a tip-off of what’s in store for your meal.

Once seated at the long tables, our party of five was served a chilled bottle of Rosé—most welcome on the hot August day we were last there—and a pitcher of water, followed by a platter of cured meats, an exceptionally fresh green salad, crusty bread, and a platter of chèvres with a tiny jar of honey and bouquets of lavender and thyme on the side. The cheeses ranged from very fresh to very aged, offering an interesting array of comparisons along the theme of aging.

The (only) lunch menu!

Several generations of Chèvre

Company soon arrived at our table, as well as the neighboring tables: the goats. They made it clear that they intended to share our meal and, if we weren’t forthcoming with a little food as they stood near us, they rested their front feet on our bench and attempted to beguile us with up close and very personal eye contact. Failing that clear demand that we share a little, the very impertinent ones got right up on the table. (The proprietors definitely keep an eye on the action at the tables and seem to be able to anticipate when the goats’ charm is wearing thin, changing the guests’ delight to annoyance at which time they shoo the four-footed diners away.)

The courses come and go, the wine flows, the conversation flows, and the cheeses age at le Castelas, but time seems to stand still. It is very relaxing and, like so many experiences in Provence, magical.

When it is finally time to leave—perhaps after warm chocolate cake and coffee—we would suggest a stop at the very tiny (population less than 50 people) medieval village of Sivergues. It is the highest village in the Luberon. It is very quiet and, with no place to buy anything, it is, refreshingly, the antithesis of tourism.

Stroll with Mark in Sivergues
Photo by David Scott Allen

Chapel in Sivergues

Take a detour to the perched medieval village of Saignon, a longer stop where you may stroll around the village, enjoy an espresso at the café in the center of town, or climb atop the ruins of the château. The views are spectacular.

Church in Saignon

Afternoon game of Boules in Saignon

Street in Saignon

On the way back to Lourmarin, Buoux (pronounced “Bewx”) is another tiny village with ruins of a large fort nearby. To see the Fort de Buoux requires a short hike, but is well worth the effort. This area has been an important stop since before the Romans arrived. The Ligurians perhaps performed pagan ceremonies here; the Romans stood sentinel guarding the passage between settlements, and the Waldesians sought protection from persecution here. Today, it is a great place for a walk or a picnic (on another day).

Fort de Buoux

So much to do in the Luberon, I know you will be drawn back.

Note: Le Castelas serves lunch (noon to 2:00) and dinner (7:30 - closing). Lunch is Є25 and dinner is Є30. They are now open all year, weather permitting. Reservations are really a must: +33 (0)4 90 74 60 89.

14th OF JULY -- LE QUARTORZE JUILLET -- LET'S CELEBRATE WITH A BASTILLE DAY DINNER PARTY

2011-07-09T20:03:00.023-04:00

We are grateful to David Scott Allen of Cocoa & Lavender for developing an original menu and to Win Rhoades (proprietor of South Street and Vine) for his knowledgeable recommendations on wine and cheese. We are indebted to Mark Sammons for his erudite synopsis of the history of Bastille Day.

I was lucky enough to be in Paris on Bastille Day in 1974. I saw tanks and military troops parade down the Avenue des Champs-Elysées, hundreds of French flags flying everywhere, and huge numbers of proud citizens lining the famous avenue from the Place de La Concorde to the Arc de Triomphe de l’Étoile, all waiting to view the festivities that take place on the 14^th of July every year. A little later, planes took to the sky, creating tri-color contrails above the jubilant crowds, and much later, fireworks lit up the Tour Eiffel. Talk about pomp and circumstance! C’était magnifique!

Bastille Day in Paris in 1974

It was my first Quatorze Juillet. I knew relatively little about the celebration that marks the July 14^th, 1789 storming of the Bastille, the event that symbolizes the beginning of the rebellion that gave birth to the modern French nation; but, I could see that it is a very meaningful day for a patriotic nation of people who are deeply proud of being French.

Un Petit Cours sur La Fête Nationale

Bastille Day commemorates a hugely symbolic if somewhat minor incident in French history. Eighteenth-century France was the epicenter of the Enlightenment, its ideas and ideals were debated in aristocratic salons and common cafés alike. Yet in political terms France remained impervious to Enlightenment ideas of reasoned social and political reform.

Even in the late 18^th century, France still maintained a seigneurial system in which the king was synonymous with country, society stratified into ranks descending from church (First Estate), nobility (Second Estate), and all others (Third Estate, prosperous bourgeois, wage-earning laborers, and impoverished rural peasantry). Special privileges served the first two estates, select corporations, provinces and towns. This system of estates and privileges distributed most wealth to the first and second estates. These two were effectively exempt from tax payment, shifting that burden to the general population. The economy was distorted in ways that exacerbated recurrent problems such as food shortages arising from drought and other natural conditions. Overall, the system left the third estate suffering from shortages and high prices while bearing a heavy tax burden. The latter was aggravated by debt incurred by a recent shadow war against the English fought in the form of support of the American Revolution.

King Louis XVI

In 1789, yielding to popular pressure for tax reform, King Louis XVI convened for the first time in 175 years the Estates General, a convention of representatives of all three estates. The Third Estate – the commoners – promptly declared itself the National Assembly, invited the other estates to participate if they wished. Ample support came from the outlying provinces. The King responded by militarizing Paris, and dissolving his privy council to restructure it. These moves were interpreted by the Third Estate as preparatory to a strike against its interests.

Their response was to demand weapons from the Bastille. This was a medieval fortress that had been used as a state prison for the previous 150 years – not incidentally giving it a secretive and sinister reputation, though holding virtually no prisoners at the time. While the goal of the eight thousand rioters was securing powder, shot and more weapons to supplement the large quantities of weapons they had seized earlier in the day from L'Hôtel des Invalides on the Left Bank, the taking of the Bastille became symbolic of all that was intolerable in the current system. They negotiated surrender from the governor of the garrison of 120 invalides (semi-retired soldiers) then massacred them, seized the cache of weapons, and in a minor but symbolic gesture freed the seven prisoners held there.

Storming of La Bastille

The ensuing year saw immense change. The social estates were abolished. Monastic orders abolished, parochial clergy were made state employees, and church property confiscated to pay the national debt. Residual features of feudalism and seigniorial rights and privileges were abolished along with all titles. The old provinces were abolished, and replaced with new departments of equal size and population, under uniform administration.

In the coming months, the storming of the Bastille acquired considerable symbolic significance. In March of 1790, Lafayette presented the key to the Bastille to George Washington; it still hangs in the center hall of Mount Vernon. The first Bastille Day celebration, in the form of a multi-day Fête de la Fédération was observed starting on July 14, 1790, with the King and royal family participating, in a display of national unity under an anticipated constitutional monarchy. The latter never came to pass, and in the ensuing 170 years the French government lurched through a directorate, a consulate, two empires, two monarchies, three more revolutions, and five republics.

In 1878, a century after the storming of the Bastille, Bastille Day was revived, and two years later was consecrated as a permanent annual holiday. It symbolizes as an end of the Ancien Regime, and like La Marseillaise written a few years later, serves as a warning to tyrants, and a promise of a new and better life for all people.

Bastille Day 2011: Our Dinner Party

I have since celebrated Bastille Day many more times—although never with the circumstance that I saw that day in Paris when I was all of 19 years old. I have reveled in the pomp of the celebration in Provence in tiny village celebrations, in Boston at the Alliance Française street-side fête, in New York City at Lincoln Center where there is music and dancing, and in our own home. One of my favorite celebrations was one summer when we had the pleasure of hosting two young French men; we asked our our Francophile friends to bring either a French or an American dish We had everything from wedge salads to salade niçoise and apple pies to clafouti—it was a wonderful evening!

This year we have decided to have a small dinner party to mark the occasion. Our menu was createdby David Scott Allen who is the publisher of Cocoa & Lavender and our cheese and wine selections were made by Win Rhoades who is the proprietor of South Street and Vine in Portsmouth, New Hampshire.

“What? No head of veal for Bastille Day? Our French teacher, Janine Kolb, inquired when I told her of our plans.

In contrast to the food I imagine was served at the first Bastille Day celebration back in 1790—heavy and garlicky—David created a very summery meal—light and cold—and has now posted all recipes on his blog, Cocoa & Lavender. *


Bastille Day Menu (click to enlarge)

We--The Modern Trobadors--were tasked with selecting the cheeses for the second-to-the-last course, the requisite cheese course, and selecting the wines that would pair nicely with each of the courses. For knowledgeable input on those subjects we consulted our neighborhood wine-and-cheese man, Win Rhoades who, with his partner, Claire Fleming, owns South Street and Vine in Portsmouth, New Hampshire.

South Street and Vine on 359 Marcy St., Portsmouth, NH

Win and Lee at South Street and Vine

As we all know, the French take their food very seriously. The selection of a wine—or wines—to accompany their meal is approached with the same seriousness. In fact, even for the simplest café fare, they would shudder at the thought of selecting the wine without some knowledge of the meal. For an haute-cuisine meal, that “marriage” of food and wine is elevated to a level that can generate anxiety--which is why we have sommeliers and knowledgeable proprietors of wine stores.

Win has been in the wine business for over fifteen years. His store is located on an inlet of the Piscataqua River in the historic South End of trendy Portsmouth, New Hampshire. He enjoys a thriving business of loyal customers who live within what is generally known as the “Seacoast Area,” a cluster of communities along the coast of New Hampshire and into Maine.

Win Rhoades

Win is a wealth of information on both wine and cheese. We were fortunate to be able to consult with him about the wines that he thought would best accompany our meal.

Click on the video link to hear Win’s wine recommendations:

In France, the cheese course is an integral part of the menu. It always follows the main course (or the salad course, if there is one) and precedes the dessert. In other countries, such as the United Kingdom and the United States, cheeses are more likely to be part of the hors d’œuvres course or are simply there to be nibbled on before the meal begins. Perhaps its late entrance into the French line up of courses is now dictated by custom, but I wonder if there is some practical basis to its position among the courses because there is now research that suggests that cheese contains enzymes that may help digest the meal.

We asked Win to recommend cheeses and an accompanying wine. Click on the video to find out which cheeses he recommended and why he suggested Champagne to accompany our cheese course!

With the wine and cheese selected and purchased, baguettes reserved, and groceries for the soup, terrine, salmon, and mousse in hand, we were ready to roll!

I asked one of our guests, Zoi Diamond, to make her haricots verts and she rose to the occasion with great aplomb, as you will see in the video below.

Zoi Diamond

A cold dinner is a hostess’s dream dinner. If I were highly organized (or not writing a blog), I could have prepared almost everything the night before. As it was, I finished all the preparations by noon, leaving ample time to set the table, arrange the flowers, find the right music (e.g., a nice rendition of La Marseillaise and a little Edith Piaf), press the French linens for les toilettes, and practice my French.

Chez Manfull may be on the other side of the Atlantic, but we marked Le Quatorze Juillet with a little pomp and a lot of good food and fun.

Chilled Plum Soup

Curried Vegetable Terrine

Poached Salmon with Citrus Cream Sauce

Haricots Verts Amandine

Triple Cream Cheeses - d'Affinois, Délice de Bourgogne,
and Pierre Robert (clockwise from top)

Mousse au Chocolat

We raised our glasses of rosé and saluted a country that’s been a friend to our own for well over two centuries, one that played a significant role in our own independence!

À votre santé, nos amis en France!

____________________________

* We veered from David’s menu only for our haricot verts because that dish happened to be one of the signature dishes of one of our guests, Zoi Diamond, and she graciously made them as well as provided the recipe.

HARICOTS VERTS AMANDINE

3-4 T. butter
2 T finely chopped shallots
1/3 cup slivered raw almonds
1 lb. haricots verts (or thin, fresh string beans if haricots not available)
1/4 cup chopped parsley

Blanch haricots verts in large pot boiling butter about 1 and a half minutes. Immediately drain and plunge into large bowl of ice and water to chill. Pat dry on towels, and set aside.

Melt butter in large skillet. Add shallots, stir for a minute, then add almonds and stir constantly over medium heat until almonds are almost brown. Watch constantly or the almonds will burn. Remove skillet from heat before they are brown, as they will continue to cook. Set aside until just before it's time to serve.

Place skillet back on medium high heat until butter melts or sizzles, then add beans and toss until coated and warm. Add parsley, toss again, then serve.

Makes 4 servings.

10 MARKETS IN PROVENCE: PLAN TO SPEND THE DAY AT L’ISLE-SUR-LA-SORGUE

2011-07-03T23:41:00.008-04:00

This post is the third in a series that will feature each of the ten markets that The Modern Trobadors always visit when in Provence. The markets were selected primarily on the basis of the quality of the offerings of the vendors and the ambiance of the venue although practicality was also considered to some extent (e.g., distance from our home in Lourmarin, market options on that day of the week, convenience of parking, etc.). Bottom line is that these are the markets we visit when we are in Provence. Again and again…and again.

The Sunday Market at L’Isle-sur-la-Sorgue is a cornucopia of the usual fruits, vegetables, meats, cheeses, specialty foods, flowers, linens, ceramics, clothing, jewelry, gadgets galore and, ahhh, so much more.

Photo: David Scott Allen

As George McQuilken, a regular traveler for over twenty years to L’Isle-sur-la-Sorgue, puts it: “Everything in the world is sold there!”

Photo: David Scott Allen

In addition to the typical Provençal market, there is a well-established outdoor flea market (brocante) on Market Day (and Saturdays) and a world-renown antiques market permanently housed in neighboring buildings. There are engaging musicians—some so captivating that you will find yourself setting down your laden basket to listen—scattered throughout the huge market during the summer months. And the setting—an island in the Sorgue River…need I say more?—is lovely.

L’Isle-sur-la-Sorgue is located mid-way between Cavaillon and Carpentras on D938 and west of Fontaine-de-Vaucluse, a popular tourist destination (er, trap, in my mind) where the River Sorgue begins—from a spring that mysteriously spews forth from a hole in the side of a cliff—the source of which not even Jacques Cousteau could establish and still remains unknown.

Photo: David Scott Allen

From Lourmarin, where our apartment La Bonbonnière is located, we usually drive to L’Isle-sur-la-Sorgue on Route d’Apt (N100). (It’s about a 40-km or 50-minute drive.) Once in the town, we veer to the right at the traffic circle onto Cours Fernande Peyre, a plane-tree lined avenue, where we park.*

The Sunday brocante and antiques market are hugely popular and draw serious buyers from around the world. It is a regular—probably requisite—destination for designers and dealers from...
Paris and London who come down for the weekend, armed with long lists of items to buy for their clients and stores. Major container and shipping companies all have offices and a thriving business in L’Isle-sur-la-Sorgue.

In other words, it gets crowded, especially in the summer months: Don’t drop anything because you may not be able to bend down to retrieve it and hang on to the kids! Actually, my best advice is to go to Market with tall people who wear hats: We never lost sight of David Scott Allen who, with his partner Mark Sammons, visited us in 2008, probably because he donned a hat atop his 6’2” frame and, come to think of it, years earlier, we never lost sight of our family friend Dustin Blaylock, 19-years-old, 6’1’’ who had just—inadvertently—dyed his dark hair blonde!

Get there early to find parking and plan to cap off the long morning at the market with a leisurely lunch and stroll around the town after the crowds have dissipated.

While the flea market and antique businesses grab the attention of magazines, newspapers, and tour books, I would be remiss if I didn’t emphasize the wonderful appeal of the more traditional side of L’Isle-sur-la-Sorgue Market. Because we always park near the entrance to that side of the market (at the Porte de Bouigas), our typical routine is to begin our visit to the Market there.

Salmon and ham, bakery goods, scarves, espadrilles, linens, and pottery—in that order—are what I focus on at L’Isle-sur-la-Sorgue Market. Unless I take along a cooler and plan to go straight back to Lourmarin, I stay away from the perishable fruits and vegetables. (I purchase those at the Friday Lourmarin Market, the Monday Cadenet Market, or the Tuesday Cucuron Market.)

If I could only make one stop in the Market, it would be to buy the most heavenly salmon I’ve ever seen—expertly handled and artfully sliced as if the proprietor were Michelangelo sculpting his block of Carrara marble—and as tasty as I have ever had. (So flavorful, it needs minimal adornment: on our 2008 vacation, I recall that David roasted our salmon with just piment espelette, salt, and pepper and served it with lightly fried zucchini blossoms, and one of Mark’s favorite salads of fennel, carrot, and prosciutto.)

The same vendor also has wonderful ham—“incredibly succulent and not-at-all salty” as David said—which we also buy. The jovial vendor will gladly pack your purchases in ice, too, if you are traveling far. His operation is located on place Ferdinand Buisson (where you will also find a wonderful patisserie called Montéro André, a stop we often make for dessert).

Scarves. I always fall in love with at least one scarf at this market and they are rarely very expensive. One of the scarf vendors I like best is on the Quai Jean Jaures, on the right, about ten stalls in from the entrance at the Porte de Bouigas. The best espadrilles—at the best price—are also found at this market. Linens—table cloths, place mats, napkins, runners, bed spreads, pillow covers—are all available in abundance in this city, where the giant water wheels powered a thriving textile industry in the middle ages. (Make sure and stop to see these wheels—nice photo op.) Finally, pottery may be found in many stalls through out the market—I usually can’t resist the purchase of some tiny piece!

By the time we have made our way through the market’s winding streets to find the aforementioned items (and before we head over to the flea market and antique shops), we usually find ourselves in the midst the colorful flower vendors in the bustling Place de la Liberté. Our favorite Café de France beckons us on one side and the extraordinary Collégiale of Nôtre-Dame-des-Anges stands sentinel on the other.

Photo: David Scott Allen

Until summer of 2008, we had never ventured into this rather plain looking church with the ornately decorated Baroque interior. Mark, our dear friend and a true Renaissance man, said it was a “must see” and he has a way of turning even the most ordinary site into something fascinating. So, after many years of walking past this seemingly unremarkable church, we went inside. Quel experience!

It is a very small church teeming with so many statues, wood carvings, frescoes, and paintings—all gilded, glorious, and undoubtedly virtuous—that feelings of claustrophobia might emerge in those susceptible to such anxieties.

Mark, being much more knowledgeable about churches and the like than I, describes his experience quite differently and far more eloquently:

[The church was] architecturally fascinating enough that my attention was (gasp!) drawn away from the extensive farmers’ market.

[T]he back of [the church] caught my eye for its apparently Gothic apse and earlier Romanesque tower, and perhaps Romanesque nave.

When I went inside, I was not merely fascinated by the Baroque ornament laid over the underlying structure, a common enough feature in European churches everywhere (perhaps most especially in Rome); I was stunned by the unexpected richness of it, especially in so small a town. And then further surprised upon exiting the front door and turning around to see the austerely elegant facade (perhaps a generation later than the interior decor?).

Did 17th and 18th century textile dying pay for this lavish redecoration? Was there noble patronage? Perhaps a powerful cardinal associated with the church? What was going on there between, say 1650 and 1780 to make this possible? It makes me wish I knew more about French architectural history.

Now that we’ve piqued your curiosity, do take a break from the Market to step inside this very interesting church. It will provide fodder for conversation over at Café de France, opposite the church.

Whether it is time for a café crème, an espresso, or a glass of rosé, grab a table (if you can) at this turn-of-the-century cafe. Inside, the art nouveau setting of large mirrors and wood paneling looks a place van Gogh and Gaugin, who lived in nearby

Arles

, would have frequented. Outside, the people-watching is superb. The food—simple fare—is excellent. I recommend their salade chêvre—the chef added a little caviar de aubergine and miel to the baguette toasts before melting the chêvre (a combination we have reproduced many times at home!).

Photo: David Scott Allen

Le Caveau de la Tour d L’isle is another good stop. It is a wine bar and wine shop.

Alternatively, grab a slice of pizza from one of the pizza trucks with wood-fired grills and head over to the other part of the market.

The flea market is located on Avenue des Quatre Otages. There you will find collectibles and other interesting bric-a-brac not quite old enough to be antique. Our favorite purchases are our brass candlesticks, wrought iron wine bottle carriers, and a set of six 2000 World Cup Soccer glasses.

If your wallet is still full, cross the street to the row of antique stores or to Le Village des Antiquaires, a veritable shopping mall of antiques. Most items are not priced and all are negotiable.

We have never found just the right item (that our wallets would accommodate), but such constraints never stop us from looking. I am still yearning for a set of silverware.

Peter and Maureen Bristol, from South Africa, found an interesting piece for their Luberon home: an open dresser with a marble top. The two drawers at the top are “heavily carved and [have] handles [that] are ‘carved angry pussycats with big ears.’” “Donc!” they go on to explain, “for ever more, it is the angry pussycat!”

A nice way to cap off the afternoon is to enjoy a leisurely lunch. We have thoroughly enjoyed Mas De Cure Bourse, on the outskirts of town, where one may dine on their oak-shaded terrace in the summer or, in the chilly months, in the dining room near the fireplace. Outstanding food, professionally served in a very relaxing atmosphere.

Lis Steeden, reports that she and husband Graham really enjoy Le Petit Jardin for a simple lunch after the market.

Lee-Ann McQuilken and husband George have several recommendations for meals. They have joined family and friends for vacation in this town for many years, enjoying not only the Market, but the restaurants, kayaking and canoeing, and the simple commarderie of friends and family in such a relaxing environment. They stay in Domaine de la Fontaine, which is owned by a German husband and French wife who moved from Germany to raise their children in Provence. German friends of George, knew the couple from Munich, suggested that they meet in their Inn about 20 years ago, and they’ve all been going ever since.

Photo: David Scott Allen

Their top recommendations for exquisite (not inexpensive) dining are: La Prévoté, where a branch of the Sorgue can be seen flowing beneath the restaurant; Le Vivier de la Sorgue, where there is a lovely view of the river from the terrace; and L’Ousteau de L’Isle, where there is a beautiful view of their garden from the terrace.

L’Isle-sur-la-Sorgue Market is a wonderful place to while away a Sunday in Provence. I suspect you may find yourself coming back again and again for the Market or another meal! I hope to be back soon for the silver!

* Lis Steeden, Danish friend from England who often visits Provence with husband Graham to stay in their Mallemort home, recently told me that many of the old plane trees in L’Isle-sur-la-Sorgue had been cut down due to disease. I am not certain if this sad news pertains to this avenue of plane-trees.

10 MARKETS IN PROVENCE: LITTLE CUCURON IS ONE OF OUR VERY FAVORITES!

2011-06-26T20:09:00.002-04:00

This post is the second in a series that will feature each of the ten markets that The Modern Trobadors always visit when in Provence. The markets were selected primarily on the basis of the quality of the offerings of the vendors and the ambiance of the venue although practicality was also considered to some extent (e.g., distance from our home in Lourmarin, market options on that day of the week, convenience of parking, etc.). Bottom line is that these are the markets we visit when we are in Provence. Again and again…and again.

Cucuron, population hovering around 2,000, swells to capacity every Tuesday morning during the summer months. It is Market Day and despite competing markets in several nearby villages and cities people flock to this tiny village every Tuesday morning. We are among those who love this market.

Cucuron is just 7 km (about 4 miles) from Lourmarin, where La Bonbonnière, our apartment is located. We have ridden our bicycles there and our long-time friend and frequent visitor, Patti, prefers to walk there. (Although, without a car, there is a limit on how much one can purchase and carry back….definitely something to think about!)

The market is known for its particularly beautiful venue. Vendors set up around three sides of a lovely stone pool, Bassin de l’Etang, which is spring-fed and dates back to the Middle Ages. Dotting the rim of the Olympic-size pool are gigantic plane trees, providing a shady canapé that offers welcome relief from the warm summer sun to those visiting the market and to those sipping their favorite beverage at the cafés that line the fourth side.

It is a relatively small market, especially in months other than summer, but the vendors are some of the best in the Luberon.

Like the Lourmarin Market, one of our first stops is at our favorite rotisserie where we ask them to please save one of their succulent...
chickens and lots of potatoes for us. We’ll pick it up on the way out!

One of our favorite cheese purveyors is nearby; you’ll easily spot him because of the long line of people waiting to select their cheeses from his wonderful assortment, but also because he is very handsome! “Your hunky cheese man,” is how my husband refers to him.

Our Favorite Cheese Man
Photo by David Scott Allen

Nearby is our favorite honey producer, La Miellerie du Grand Luberon, a local producer—in Cucuron—of some of the tastiest and creamiest honey you will ever enjoy. It is biologique, too! I always buy enough to take back to the States.

The wonderful honey of Cucuron
Photo by David Scott Allen

Just a little further along, there is a small stall that sells perfectly cut—paper-thin—slices of fabulous cured ham. You will recognize it by the large Spanish flag with a black bull right smack in the center of it. Ask for a taste and one of the family members will gladly comply...because you will buy a few slices! The older gentleman seems to be the designated meat slicer: watch him! He does it with such finesse that it is immediately clear he has had a lot of practice. Either of the hams is very good alone—the pata negra is the higher quality of the two--or grab a Cavaillon melon from a produce vendor for a heavenly pairing.

Our favorite cookie man sets up a couple of long tables, displaying an impressive array of cookies as well as fruits confits (candied fruits). We usually pick up a few biscuits to go with a cup of tea a little later.

Fruits Confits and Cookies

There are several good produce vendors. My go-to man for many years was Emerique. As I explained in our first in this series on Markets in Provence, he has sold his business and will hope the new owners will maintain his high standards. This stand is located at the far end of the étang (as you look at it, with the cafes on your left and the market stalls on your right). Another good produce vendor, operated by a husband-and-wife team, is located directly across from the hunky cheese man.

You have many other choices of items with which you may fill your basket: kitchen gadgets, pottery, fabric, place mats and table cloths, clothes, flowering plants, and wine. And if you forget your basket, there’s a good vendor in Cucuron for another one. The basket vendor, who also sets up shop at the Lourmarin Market, is a tall Black man from Northern Africa (where most of the baskets in Provence are made). He’s usually willing to strike a deal on his baskets and may even demonstrate how a good dunk in the étang can tighten the basket weave.

Do take the time to have a café crème—or citron pressé—at one of the cafés. The view of the market is great and the people-watching is pretty good, too.

Before you leave Cucuron, head over to the 16th century olive oil mill, Moulin à Huile Dauphin, where you can still see the original ox-driven mill and pick up some of their renown—and our favorite—olive oil.

The wine cooperative is producing better and better wines each year, under the Côte du Luberon AOC (or vin de pays d’Aigues). In the harvest season, you may see a parade of trackers pulling wagons weighed low with grapes, on their way to be turned into wine at the cooperative.

Most tourist books devote no more than a couple of lines to this sweet village. In spite of its lack of tourist appeal—or, perhaps, because of it—we find it a very pleasant village to poke around in.

Cucuron is pretty enough to have been one of the locations featured in Director Ridley Scott’s 2005 movie entitled “A Good Year” (based on the Peter Mayle novel by the same name and starring Russell Crowe, Albert Finney, and French actress Marion Cotillard). Ten years earlier, it was used as the set for the French movie, “ Le Hussard sur le Toit” (“The Horseman on the Roof”), directed by Jean-Paul Rappeneau, based on the 1951 novel by Jean Giono, and starring Juliette Binoche and Olivier Martinez.

The medieval ramparts, the fortified gate, the bell tower on place de l’Horloge, the Eglise Notre-Dame-de Beaulieu with a Romanesque nave and Gothic apse, the remains of the 13th century Chapelle Notre-Dame-de-Beauvoir, and the Musée Marc Deydier with lots of local history, including a collection of daguerreotypes, are all worthwhile stops as you stroll along the uncharacteristically wide streets of this charming village. The tourist office is also quite good (rue Leonce Brieugne).

Consider lunch or dinner at La Petite Maison de Cucuron, where the highly respected chef, Eric Sapet, will regale you with his culinary talents while you feel like you are dining in an dear old friend’s home. (It is easy to understand how Chef Sapet quickly garnered a Michelin star.) He offers cooking classes, too. Simpler fare may be found at Restaurant de l’Horloge.

The Cucuronnais will welcome you to their village whenever you choose to go, but do go. Especially on a Tuesday morning.