Southern Fried French

A Day in the Life, in the Lovely Luberon

A guest post today:  I met New Orleans designer Alix Rico (American) and her photographer husband Paul (Spanish), when I shot their house in Provence for the Country French bookazine.  They have a beautiful summer home in the Luberon in the fairy tale village of Goult. Alix periodically emails a "postcard" to friends, about their French life. Their beloved chien, Mignon, appears in most photos.  I'm always telling Alix that she really should have a blog, so a guest post seemed appropriate. I loved this "postcard" she sent, about the workers in her village:  

 

Life goes on here in the Luberon, and those who live in Goult must work! So I have compiled a little showcase of our Village commerce and it is fun! For such a small town we have several people I see every day, and more who are also here but I could not include. We are so fortunate to have a butcher, a baker, and several restaurants. We also have a doctor, a dentist,a Post Office and a library. So to work! 

First, Eric is our Real Estate tycoon who is so friendly and kind. He is holding a very confused and perhaps fearful Mignon! She is such a star here that everyone wants to get in on the act...but she is sometimes not so sure she wants to participate!! Eric has known her a long while, so she is only making a point by appearing uncomfortable!

 

Second is Jan, our English/ French/ American Antiques dealer. She has a charming shop on the main street. I lost my sunglasses the other day, and she offered me a pair from her shop, gratuit! I was so happy, I leaped out of the shop singing, "I love you"! Only to see in the light of day that I was wearing Playboy glasses with a little bunny on the lens!!

 

 

 
Next is the happy and energetic waiter at our local café. He is from Vietnam. He is always smiling and very quick to bring you a glass of Pastis or a wine.  We like to go to the cafe on Friday nights to listen to the singing. And we always enjoy seeing him deftly handle the crowds and the glasses! 

 

And the handsome guy with the crate of vegetables is Michel, one of the wonderful family of grocers who brings us beautiful, fresh produce and cheeses every day. Last week we saw the family dancing a can-can to the strains of a marching song at our village party! Trés sympa!

 

We are so lucky to have so much commerce in our village! Now we also have the market every Thursday, which you may see in the background, beyond our waiter. So we are more than cosmopolitan! We love going out and finding what we need just a half block away. And it is doubly fun to know everyone and say bonjour on market day!

 

But it our local artist's story I wish to tell. Her name is Francoise Van Heruverswyn. She is from Belgium and she is really cute and friendly. If that is not enough, she is a great artist as well! She does abstracts and fun nudes of women. But my favorites are the wonderful pastel watercolors  she does of our village of Goult [top photo]. The rendering is tiny but so detailed that you can actually pick out our house! 

 

Francoise is more than an artist though, she is a spiritual traveler. I was fascinated the first time she told me of her travels from this area to Santiago de Compostela. Although she had dreamed of this journey for many years it was some time before she made the first trip in 2008. She followed the trail for 42 days through the Pyrenees, walking through Paul's home town of Logrono on the way! She repeated the journey in 2011, walking an average of 25 km. a day with a 20+pound pack on her back. What interested me most was what she said of the Pilgrimage. That on arrival all of her body and mind was cleansed. The days of walking purged the mundane. The everyday thoughts fade away and the body and mind embrace a much higher plane, making the walk a time to reflect and embrace the spirit of Santiago. I am pretty sure I will never make this journey myself. I doubt my feet can do it! But I love the lesson! We all need to find our path! Thank you Francoise for sharing! 

And thank you, Alix, for sharing your village life with us. What a great group of merchants, and I think Goult is quite lucky to have the three of you as well! Love this photo, right, which captures Alix and Paul's exuberant spirit.  And the house is beautiful too, n'est pas?  If you want to see more of her design work, go to her Pinterest site.  You can contact me if you want more info about Francoise and her art.

 

RECIPE:  Alix's Sweet & Savory CookieCrackers

Alix served these when we visited, and everyone was fighting over the last one.  They are Savory Thyme Shortbreads, but I call them CookieCrackers because they are a little of both:  sweet and salty at the same time, with fresh herbs, and just the thing to munch on with a glass of Bandol, that fine rosé from Provence.

2 cups all purpose flour
1/2 cup powdered sugar
2 tablespoons thinly sliced fresh sage leaves or 2 teaspoons dried sage
1 teaspoon coarse kosher salt
1 cup (2 sticks) unsalted butter, cut into 1/2-inch-thick pieces, room temperature

Blend first 4 ingredients in processor. Add butter; using on/off turns, process until dough comes together. Divide in half. Shape each dough piece into log about 1 1/2 inches in diameter. Chill until firm enough to slice, about 30 minutes.

Position 1 rack in top third and 1 rack in bottom third of oven; preheat to 350°F. Line 2 baking sheets with parchment. Cut each dough log into 1/3- to 1/2-inch-thick rounds; place on sheets. Bake 10 minutes. Reverse sheets so bottom sheet is on top rack of oven and top sheet is on bottom rack. Bake until cookies are golden, about 15 minutes longer. Cool on racks.

The recipe is from a 2007 issue of Bon Appétit.

  In the COMMENTS:  Julie, of the blog Traveling Through, you are so right about the artists being everywhere in France, around every corner. Colleen, I'm sure your home must be filled with your wonderful paintings (see them at  Colleen Taylor Fine Art).  Dee, we miss you too!

And I couldn't resist one last photo of that ever-chic media hound, MIgnon, who travels in style around Goult.

 

 

  

The Artists Among Us

Buying a charming house in the countryside is not an easy thing in France.  Not that there’s a shortage of charming abodes; they’re everywhere.  But when it comes to the best old houses, folks tend to hold on to them.  And the most charming of all are often owned by artists. 

Why? Because the beautiful countryside and lovely light here are like candy for the artistic crowd.  And a few decades ago—when there was little work, and the villagers were abandoning the countryside for the city—you could buy any house you wanted around here for a song (think “Pennies from Heaven”).   When you have the combination of beauty, a rural environment where you can work peacefully at home, and it’s a bargain to boot, that’s when the artists move in. They snagged some fine real estate before the region was discovered by the expats and French retirees, and before the days of the internet and improved transportation made it possible for many French workers to return from the city as well.

Our village social committee decided on a new event this year:  an expo of just the painters who live in our commune (a village and its surrounding hamlets). But could so few artists fill the huge barn that is the public space for our village? We only knew of three.  It turns out there were 12, and yes they did cover those grand stone walls from top to bottom with paintings as diverse as our international population.  Photos from the exhibit. Above: The Abbey at Cluny, by André Guizard. Right, admiring a work by Tony Mathews.  Below, Marion Madec's abstracts.

An art exhibit means there will be a vernissage (an opening). We knew lots of our friends would be coming to support Marion, who took up painting only a couple of years ago and does wonderful abstracts with mixed media; and Tony, a professional painter who does large oils that celebrate antique handmade French tools, works of art in themselves.

So I thought, why not a salad buffet chez nous afterwards, since many of our friends would be attending?  And 26 folks showed up (yikes, what was I thinking?). The weather was fine and It was a magical evening of art, food and wine, and good friends.  

The artists arrived in Burgundy first, and even though they nabbed the best houses, we’re glad they did.

 

RECIPE:  An Easy Summer Menu when Toute le Monde Turns up

For my big crowd, I stuck to a salad buffet with old favorites:  A shellfish rice salad, caprese salad, grilled zuchinni and red peppers, and melon slices with mint.  

My summer dessert this year is make-ahead, dead-easy, and a crowd pleaser.  I make my favorite cookies du jour, which are Renee Dobb’s Chocolate Pecan Bourbon cookies (find this recipe plus lots more at her blog, Magnolia Days). I make them in advance and throw them in the freezer.  To go with them, I found at the supermarché some cute little individual cups of Haagen-Daas ice cream.  They look pretty piled up in a basket, to pass around so everyone can choose their favorite flavor.  

A happy, easy, creative summer to all!

 

RE  artwork featured:  Please contact me if you’re interested in knowing more.  Marion has a website in progress, you can preview her work at [email protected].  You can also see more of Tony and Marion's work at this post.

Merci to Mariella for the photo of our party, above.

(NOT) Favorite Reads:  Two sad articles on the state of French food, unfortunately all too true: Mark Bittman's French Food Goes Down, and  Elaine Sciolino's Made in House? Prove It. The government is trying to fix it, but the French beauracracy is getting in the way.  What we can do here:  ASK in every restaurant, which are the freshest, homemade items?  Let them know we care!

 

The Annual Burgundy Flower Show

One of the adjustments when we moved here was having to completely re-educate myself as a gardener.  Charleston is semi-tropical and who knew there was such thing as a growing season? That would be year-round.  Here, the main season is short and intense, and there's nearly no overlap in plants with Charleston, though I have mangaged to coax a confederate jasmine to hang on and even to bloom, by tucking it in a sunny southern corner.

So I can't resist bringing you along, as I have in the past, for a peek at high season.  Photo above: one of our  "napping chairs" in the garden.

 

Wisteria does well here, but usually it's purple. Here is a rare white one in Cluny.

 

 

The dahlias are just coming out.  Surely this variety is called 'Sunrise'?

 

A pot by a freshly painted gate.  Alstroemeria I think.

 

An exuberant back-yard garden in Cluny.

 

In Burgundy, even the cars are blooming!

 

In the Comments:  I loved hearing about the nostalia that the clothing truck evoked.  Jenny, thanks so much for the movie recommendation, perfect for last week's post! (see below).  Debbie, I had forgotten about the Fuller Brush man.  That dates us, I fear. Caterina, I now have got to make a butterscotch sundae toute de suite. Julie, I'm with you, I love to support the small bricolage places, so full of character and so French.

Favorite Reads/Movies:  Two articles on French language learning came my way this week.  You must read them immediately, they are both just too funny.  French language learners, you are going to relate! Go to  Brush Up on Your French with This Bastille Day Flow Chart (a spoof on vous-ing and tu-ing), from the LA Times, and The Benefits of Failing at French, in the New York Times, both by William Alexander.  I see that he has a new book coming out too, Flirting with French: How a Language Charmed Me, Seduced Me, and Nearly Broke My Heart. You can pre-order a copy, can't wait to get mine.

Reader Jenny recommends a good French movie, Le Fils de l'épicier, about a young man who is forced to return to Provence and take over the family business.  It's been released with English subtitiles, under the name The Grocer's Son .

 

Comme Autrefois: Frozen in Time in Burgundy

Here is a sweet memory from my childhood.  We lived in suburban Atlanta, and in those days we still had the milk man and the ice cream truck.  But we also had Mr. White, the Flower Man.  Mr. White was a farmer (ancient, and toothless) who drove a battered and abused green pickup truck with plywood sides on the back. The back was brimming with buckets of cut flowers: blue bachelor buttons, bright daffodils, snow-white snap dragons and neon marigolds.  No need for him to sound his horn, you could hear the truck sputtering and coughing as it came down the street. The wives and mothers all hurried out to gather bouquets for their tables, with the kids crowded around to help pick the prettiest ones.

Those days are long gone, but not in La Bourgogne,  which in some ways seems frozen in a simpler time.

We were surprised early on to see, in the small town of Cluny that is ten minutes from us, a tiny appliance store. They seemed to have one, and only one, of everything: a stove, a fridge, an iron.  We were puzzled—-after all, the big box stores with a multitude of chocies are 20 minutes away in Macon.  Now we understand that certain French in the countryside, some of the farmers and older folks, ils ne bougent pas: they just don’t venture that far. The town of Cluny aims to serve their every need.

And so we have a bread truck that arrives twice a week in our little village; we hear the familiar honk, and the older residents line up for their baguettes and croissants. Our Chatêline, Nicole, says there used to be a boucherie truck as well, and Ali says there was once an épicerie truck that came to her village, sort of a 7-Eleven on wheels.  But we were surprised to see a van in the village this week when we were out for une promenade that said “Magasin Bleu: S’habille comme TU veux” (The Blue Store: Dress the way YOU want). The back was open and packed with clothes, underwear, t-shirts. There was even a make-shift dressing room in the truck. Two ladies were there, busy organizing. 

“Ron,” I said, “I think that’s a traveling clothes truck!”  And so it was, as we learned from chatting up the ladies.  “We are here,” they told us, because some of the French women in the countryside don’t drive.  We have everything in all sizes:  clothes, bras, underwear, clothes for men and for kids.”

“Do you simply knock on doors?” I asked, curious.  

“Yes, but we have a list of interested women in each village. The truck has been coming since 1943.”

I saw them later making their rounds, but they didn’t seem to be having much luck. It is, I fear, a dying business model.  But in these days of Amazon and Wal-Mart, one can only cheer them on.  It’s one last gasp for personal, door-to-door service.

 

In the COMMENTS:  Wow, interesting comments on French toast!  First of all, though the French friends I questioned here don't make it a skillet, apparently they do in other regions--like in northern Burgundy, where Nadedge comes from  (it's still true, though, that French toast did not originate in France!).  Mary James, (of Mary James en Provence) I tried it your way, by sprinkling sugar in the skillet to caramelize it---delicious (had it for lunch today, pourquoi  pas?).  Also loved your idea of a main dish pain perdu with rye bread, prunes, and bacon. Natalia's belle mère served French toast as a savory side dish with meats, for dinner, good idea. Carol in NY serves it with maple syrup, like pancakes. And Ido, everything DOES seem sexier when you add "French" to it--think of French vanilla ice cream.

Favorite Reads: I just discovered that one of our readers, Jo Maeder, has a fun novel out called Opposites Attack: A Novel with Recipes Provencal "As frothy and sweet as a lucious chocolate mousse", says one review.  Sounds like the perfect summer read!

 

A French Dish That Isn't Really French

It’s one of life’s little mysteries:  The French didn’t invent, and typically don’t make, French toast.  With their leftover bread they might bake up some pain perdu (bread pudding, which is baked, not fried), and serve it for dessert.  But “French toast “ in a skillet? Non.  And for breakfast, never.

Nor, for that matter, did French fries originate in France (they’re from Belgium).  And don’t get Nicole, our châtelaine, started on “French fried onion rings”.  An American visitor once brought her some from the states, in a can (the kind that go on green bean casserole).  She was completely baffled  “Why would they call them French?” she sniffed.  “We don’t batter-fry onions, and if we did we would never put them in a can!”

Go figure.  Anyway, I love French toast, so why not make it really French and decadent, from a loaf of brioche? Which is exactly what I did, and I served it for dinner, to shake things up a bit. If you can’t get your hands on brioche, challah will do nicely.

Another advantage:  It’s quick. The night I was making it, it was 7pm, and Ron was getting a bit antsy.  “You haven’t started dinner yet”, he said (knowing that after a nice glass of white Burgundy for apperos, I’ve been known to forget that there’s cooking to be done).  But by 7:20, the French toast was on the table.

I made two quick toppings:  a fresh raspberry peach compote, and caramelized bananas with Gran Marnier.  For meat eaters, a couple of slices of bacon would round out the meal, but we were just fine with our not-quite-French French toast.

 

RECIPE:  Brioche French toast with Two Toppings

For the toast, I used Sam Sifton’s  recipe for French toast Amandine, which turned out perfect.  Then I made these toppings: 

Topping #1:  Stir together fresh peaches and raspberries, sprinkle lightly with sugar to make them juicy, and stir.

Topping #2:  Melt a bit of butter in a skillet over medium heat and add a couple of sliced bananas.  Toss well to coat and stir in a couple of tablespoons of brown sugar.  Cook, stirring, until sugar melts and mixture bubbles, just a minute or two.  Add a splash of Gran Marnier and boil for a minute, until mixture thickens to a thin syrup.  

Sprinkle French toast with confectioner’s sugar and serve with toppings.

 

In the Comments:  Want more photos and info on L'isle sur la Sorgue?   Go to the post on that fun town at Kim Defforge's blog,  24/7 in France.

Those of you who love Tom Vieth's French paintings of the Dordogne (see the Small Village in France blog) will be happy to know he has made some of them into tea towels and silk scarves.  See them at Lily O's.