Southern Fried French

Downton Abbey Jumps the Pond

I'm a Downton fan, are you? And I've always wanted to visit Highclere castle. But I found something better: an immersive Downton experience! And on this side of the "pond"!

This came about when we saw a poster for a French fete: "Spectacle 1900" at Château de Digoine. It was billed as an enactment of life at the chateau in the 1900's.  French fêtes are often delightfully hokey, so a group of us who bought tickets weren't expecting much more than a fine day of picnicking when we made the short trip to Digoine.

How wrong we were! The castle was a fine and unusual one, in its beautiful rural setting. We entered the fête through a barn, festively decorated, and  headed right for a photo-op setup, complete with fancy hats. After a lovely pique nique, (we were provided with antique rugs, to spread out on the grass), we were taken with a small group across the gardens of the castle, and into an orangerie. 

Friends Julie and Felicite and I have our Downton moment

 

A perfect site for la pique nique

 

The Orangerie

We knew right away we were in for fun when a Thomas-like butler and a couple of giggling maids escorted us across the garden. We passed couples in period fripperie, parasols in hand, taking a turn amongst the roses.

With our group seated in the orangerie, we were treated to a glass of champagne. One of the "servants" circulated among us (a trained actor, as most of the performers were), and from her we learned that the famous actress Sarah Bernhardt was arriving at the château today. She was making a clandestine visit to rehearse a play that was to debut in Paris, and she wanted it all kept a secret from the prying eyes of the media. (This is an event that actually happened here in the early 1900's, and so was the basis for our spectacle.) Our servant shared the wicked gossip: the famous French actress might or might not be having various intriguing affairs. There had been rumors, upstairs and down. 

Champagne in the Orangerie

 

A servant fills us in on the gossip

 

...as our group listens attentively

Next we passed through a square just outside of the kitchen, a hub of activity. Vegetable were unloaded from wooden carts, and ladies in bonnets arranged flowers.

Then into the kitchen, a space just as lively as Mrs. Patmore's realm. The cooks and their minions laughed and chatted, putting us more in the picture with their skit about what a character Sarah Bernhardt was said to be. In the laundry room, when the responsable stepped out for a minute, the ladies dropped their duties for an impromptu dance, which was quickly  abandoned when she returned, hands firmly on hips.

 

There was ironing to be done...

...and maybe a little dancing 

Then our group left the lively downstairs for the formal upstairs, where we met our châtelains,  who were waiting for their guest. They were a bit startled by Madame Bernhardt's luggage for her short stay, which had preceded her; it was stacked to the ceiling and took up most of the grand foyer. And of course a journalist had quietly crept into our midst, antique camera in hand, to try and get the scoop on the play.

The Head Butler deals with a mountain of valises

We meet our Châtelains

At last we heard the actress' motorcar approaching, down the long drive through the allée of plane trees. The servants lined up by the steps, Downton-style. We half expected Mr. Carson to swing the front door open. (Don't ask me about the giraffe. Never did get the story).

 

Sarah greets our châtelains

 

Sarah's a bit of a drama queen

After Madame made her dramatic entrance, we were treated to a backstage look at the actors getting into their makeup and costumes, and finally, there was the dress rehearsal of the play.

A pre-rehersal with the kids in the impressive château library

 

An actress gets the dreaded corset tightened

 

Felicite chats with the costume designers

And finally, the dress rehersal

This was  a French château, not an English castle. But the parellels to Downton Abbey were unavoidable, and as we made our way between vignettes, they slyly played that familiar theme song in the background. We learned they had over 300 volunteers for the fête, and it was obvious that many of them were professional actors.

We reluctantly departed, feeling like royalty. Hands down, best French fete we've ever been to. It was like being inside of a wonderful historic movie (apparently the current châtelain is a TV producer). This fête alone is worth a trip to Burgundy!

If you go: They will repeat the Spectacle next year, in July. If you'd like to get a feel for what the spectacle was like, you can watch the teaser on Youtube. The Château de Digoine is worth a visit on any day, though. It's located in the Charolais, not far from Charolles and close to the TGV stop at Monchanin. 

 

In the COMMENTS: Natalia, as a vegetarian, for ethical reasons, I’m right there with you on the chickens. And thanks for the kind comments. Ann Marie, I guess they steam those artichokes, but I admit I’ve never cooked one that big! Mary, bon voyage, and I've sent you a list.

Favorite READS: Check out the website Reflections of a Vagabonde, by one of our readers. See some great pix of the tour de France and Quatorze Juillet celebration right here.

 

TIP of the week: If by chance you are looking to buy a house in Burgundy, you'll find it to be pretty difficult, as the French have no Multiple Listing Service as we do in the States. In which case I recommend you contact my Dutch friend Marit, who has a thriving business helping expats find their dream house. in particular she helps ex-pats who are not in the country full-time and/or are not familiar with the complicated process of buying a house in France. She can also help you through the whole buying process, even setting up phone and internet service. And she is delightful, as well as being fluent in several languages. See you in Burgundy?

 

 

 

One City, Two Gastronomic Meccas

 

One perk of  living in Beaune: one block from our house we can hop on a train to Dijon  and be there in 20 minutes. And next to the train station in Dijon is an enormous new sleek museum and more called the La Cité Internationale de La Gastronomie et Du Vin. (which is a mouthful on its own). Everyone’s been chatting about it, so off we went. And while we were at it we visited Les Halles, another Dijon foodie destination.

 

In France, “les halles” refers to a permanent indoor food market, usually enormous and typically, the joint is jumpin'. The traditional ones  look like giant greenhouses with glass roofs. We've visited beautiful halles in Paris (the original one, I believe), Lyon, Colmar, and other cities.

Les Halles in Dijon, here and above

 

We started the day at Les Halles. As expected, it was busy and bustling and had every kind of delicacy that you can possibly imagine. And what’s really hard to imagine is: who could possibly eat all that food?

 

The contrast between the gritty and glorious Les Halles and the slick new Cité could not have been greater. After an exuberant morning, we fell into the quiet of the food and wine  museum. The Cité is aptly named: there was a Bistro,  a restaurant, and a pavilion of very chic shops, with kitchen wear, gourmet foods, and even some pristine looking vegetables and breads. There was an old chapel on the campus,  a Cave de Vin for tastings, and then the museum itself.

 

The new Cité is an ambitious project, but our impression was, it just missed the mark. There wasn’t much deliciousness to be had, no buzz, not much of a soul. To me it looked a rather extreme modern architect had gotten hold of it. There was a huge entry pavilion with nary a tree, and the bistro terrace at the entry it was so stark looking we actually missed it when we walked in: not a parasol, plant ,or a flower to be seen. I guess it’s the new generation? It was beautiful in a minimalist sort of way, but sadly, we had the place mostly to ourselves. Still, it was worth a visit--the museum part was great-- and we hope it gets livelier. 

 

Take a tour of both with me, and see what you think.

 

First up, Les Halles

 

Beautiful veggies, of course, including some very fancy mushrooms

 

 

There's a café in the center of the hall

 

 

The poultry counters are not for the faint of heart

 

 

Aile de raie is a French specialty which I've not seen in the States

 

Lots of cheeses...

 

...and  beautiful breads and pastries, bien sûr

 

 

And then, Le Cité Internationale de La Gastronomie et du Vin:

 

La Cave de Vin

 

 

Le Village des Artisans is a sort of boutique gourmet shopping mall

 

And in the Museum:

 

There were maybe a dozen of these gigantic (about 6' tall) photo murals by Denis Rouvre, depicting the different types of celebratory, and ordinary, French meals. Not glamorized, but provocative in their contemporary realism. They had titles like The Marriage, The Birthday Lunch, The Business Lunch, etc. I thought they were a bold addition.

 

There was a whole display on how to cut cheese properly at the table (you can read my post about French cheese etiquette here).

I think this display captured the essence of France's relationship to food, though I'm not sure I quite believe they don't think their food is the best.

They had plenty of cartoons about food from famous cartoonists on display. Here are a few of my favorites:

The Cog au Vin (Go ahead, jump! You're not risking a thing, it's a Margaux 2005!)

The (plastic) cake below was an art installation. The artist says, "I thought to challenge our ideas of desire, success and beauty...playing with the taboos around food, exploring the darkness of the veneer". Hmm...

"The Collapsed Cake", by Vincent Olinet

There was an interesting display about all the "rules" of French eating, like this one about the French aversion to eating with fingers. Non to french fries and pizza! (they left out asparagus though, that's permitted).

 

There was a display about pâte à choux, those famous pastry balls used in profiteroles, or stuffed with cream. They make an appearance at French weddings too--this is a typical French wedding cake.

 

Another artistic display: gâteaux fashioned from paper. 

 

And finally, a display of some famous French food quotes, illustrated with French masters:

"The Aperatif is the Evening Prayer of the French"--Paul Morand

 

"I only drink champagne on two occasions: when I am in love, and when I am not"--Coco Chanel

 

In the COMMENTS: Wow! If you don’t usually read the comments, you still might want to dip into these. Such interesting discussions about how the French view us—and vice versa. Some of you offered some of your grievances about the French. We have a few of those, but not many—and maybe I will do on post on that sometime, though I am very sensitive about complaining about a country where I’m a guest, and which I love. Still, it’s true that  cultural differences, good and bad are an endless source of fascination.

 

Monique, Francine, and Vagabonde added something important to the list of things the French don’t like or understand, which is the intertwining  of religion and politics. They fought a war to get rid of that, after all. And Tom, our lack of universal healthcare is another thing the French don’t approve  of, and neither do I.

Bonnie, I laughed at  “really, couldn’t take turns keeping the bank open?” And Bonnie, when you figure out the French, let me know.

 

Tom and Miss Bougie, the situation in France is dire when it comes to tradespeople, but as Monique points out, they are having the same problem in the States. 

When we renovated our house 15 years ago, it was not hard to get good workers. But those days are gone, I fear.

 

Marcia, it’s so true that the Europeans are drawn to places in the US which seem like strange choices to me.

 

Vicky, I agree: the French could not have been more welcoming to us, even though we are foreigners and even though we haven’t mastered their language (though we try!). And to the other Vicky: There are very few Brits in our area, so I think the Brits who do settle here are looking for more of an French experience than most. And you are right about the Dutch!

 

Aryn, you wanted to know more about the French reluctance to display their wealth. (It may come from the fact that there is a wealth tax in France, which is to be avoided if possible!). An example: We went into the garden of A french village house  recently. There were beautiful grounds, a pool, a pond, walled gardens with tall stone walls. The house was imposing from the garden, all terraces with pergolas and roses. But viewed from the street? A modest stucco building right on the road, with peeling paint. You would never give it a second glance. This is quite common. It is also rude here to ask someone what kind of work they do, until you know them well; it would be considered a marker of class. In the States, “What do you do?” is the first question strangers ask of each other.

 

Christine I hope that wasn’t US you sat next to—would that have been at the Café de la Fontaine in La Turbie, one of our all time favorite restaurants? Ha! But we do try to talk more softly here, like the French. We love the quiet of the restaurants here.

 

I was amused by the discussions of the French “Non” as a starting point, as we have learned that lesson well!

 

 

Favorite READS: In keeping with the above discussion, our reader Anne Marie has written a book you may want to check out, called Falling in Love with France.

Why the French Hate Americans…and Why They Love Us

It is a stereotype that the French hate Americans. But then, who could love us when we renamed French fries “freedom fries” and poured out their precious wine, after the war in Iraq started? But the tension and competition go back much further.

Like many clichés, there’s a soupçon of truth inside that tired trope. But the French are also fascinated by Americans, as we are by them. In other words: It’s complicated.

So, while hate is way too strong a word, here are some things which over the years I personally  have heard the French, ever proudly critical, complain about when it comes to Americans:

 

We are loud. And if you’ve ever eaten in a crowded US restaurant, then in a French one, you know this one is absolutely true. 

We are insincere. The French don’t smile a lot, or open up to strangers, or lavish others with compliments. They don’t “gush”, like we do. So they tend to view that behavior as overwrought drama.

We love guns. Only hunters have legal guns here in France, and they must have a hunting license and undergo a psychological evaluation to get one. And there is way less violent crime in France. Increasingly our French friends are saying they are reluctant to travel to America, they are afraid of mass shootings and crime (so are we).

We don’t speak their language. The beautiful French language is revered in France with a religious zeal. Europeans, especially, learn to speak French early and European ex-pats nearly always speak French. We older American ex-pats got a late start, so we really have to work at it. But working at it gives you a pass (for us, it’s means lifetime of French lessons and conversation groups, in addition to our natural immersion program). It’s the classic “Ugly American” who doesn’t even try to learn French.

There's also a sort of English creep (English words sneaking into the French language) which drives the purists bonkers.

We elected Trump. I have never met a single French person who was not completely baffled and appalled by his popularity. It's often their first question when they learn we are Americans. “What happened to the States? Why did you elect such a horrible person?”  

They think we are all rich, and that we love to flaunt it. In France, money, wealth, investments. etc.  are rarely discussed, and those with wealth often go to great lengths to hide it. Ostentatious displays of wealth are considered crass.

 

And what they love…

Love on a French postcard: "Bisous" is a kiss on the cheek

It goes without saying, they are still very very grateful for our role in World War II.  We just went to a wonderful fête here in Beaune in which the US role was grandly celebrated.

They love to visit the States. The French are enthralled with the enormous size of our country, the wide open spaces, the nature and the parks. Most are also fascinated by New York City and California; I sometimes think many French hardly know the rest of the country exists.

Our music. American music is ubiquitous here. Especially American jazz, which they adore. They watch a lot of our TV and movies, too.

Our history. The French are very knowledgeable about their history, and ours. It's covered well in their schools and it has made history buffs out of many.  I cannot count how many times I’ve met a new French person, even a blue collar worker, and they immediately want to launch into a discussion of US history. Most know way more than I do!

 

As always, it’s the cultural differences here that fascinate! One could I’m sure make a similar list in reverse—maybe France and the US are fated to have a love-hate relationship. What are your thoughts, and what’s on your list?

 

Let's mash up these two cultures with a recipe that's perfect for apéros or a starter course. It has some decidedly French flavors, but comes to us from Debbie, my Canadian/American expat friend, by way of her friend Jocelyn. I think everyone Debbie serves it to asks for the recipe! It's also very pretty, and easy to eat.

 

RECIPE: Debbie and Jocelyn's Parmesan Walnut Salad in Endive Leaves

1 small clove garlic, minced and mashed to a paste with 1/2 tsp salt
1 tablespoon mayo
2 tablespoon freshly squeezed lemon juice
2 tablespoon olive oil
1/4 lb Parmesan Reggianno sliced and diced to 1/8" peices
(about 1 cup)

1/2 cup finely chopped peeled apple

Belgian endives (small - cut ends off to easily peel leaves - sometimes you have to cut the ends more than once)
1 cup walnuts, toasted lightly and chopped fine

1/4 cup finely chopped flat leaf parsley

Whisk together garlic paste, mayo, lemon juice and oil. Stir in parmesan and apple. Salad may be prepared to this point one day ahead and chilled. Trim endives and separate leaves. Wrap in dampened paper towels and put in plastic bag, again one day in advance if you like. When you're ready to serve it, stir walnuts and parsley into salad, scoop about 1 tablespoon salad into individual endive leaves and serve.

 

In the COMMENTS: Apparently iced tea has been in France for a while, bottled and on the soft drink aisle which I never frequent, so I've missed it, but which several of you have "suffered with", as Susan says.  Jane, you are being quite British but in the South, sugar in iced tea is just a given! Candi, this tea maker you mention is new to me. Peggy, I'll never catch up with you in the tea department. Natalia, I must try the tea you mentioned because one of my close friends will drink only that! Carrie knows a site which takes cold-brewed iced tea to a new level. Frank, you've hit on a great idea for the bistros (hope y'all are over your covid, bonne santé).

Favorite READS and SHOWS: our reader-in-residence Natalia says Dictionary of Lost Words is fun and different. I'm dipping into a Graham Green book I haven't read, called Our Man in Havana, since Travels with My Aunt is one of my favorite books. And our reader Barbara also like watching Signora Volpe, discussed last time, and says she also loves Candice Renoir and Balthazar (on Acorn), which I can't wait to try.

 

 

The French Discover Iced Tea, Sort Of

Umm...this is Iced Tea?

"Three’s a Trend", right?  So after never once in 20 years seeing iced tea in France, nor anywhere in Europe for that matter, I encountered it three times this week. Il est arrivé!

But as usual, the French have put their own spin on a Southern Classic. And I have to say we southerners are a bit fussy about our iced tea, which has been called “the house wine of the South". So you French folks, while you know your wine way better than we ever will, you might need a bit of education on iced tea (just as the Brits have had to educate me about making the perfect cup of hot tea: see Tea with a Twist.).

But then, the American market has messed with our iced tea as well. I remember the first time I saw a bottle of ice tea for sale. What?! I was incredulous that anyone would pay for this. If there’s anything easier to make then iced tea, I don’t know what it is. And it’s best homemade, served up fresh as a summer daisy and icy cold.

My first encounter with French iced tea this week, which they call thé glacé, was at a PHARMACY of all places. To understand how strange this is, you should know that French pharmacies are not like CVS or Rite-Aid; they only sell health and personal care products. What was on their summer-special  display were big pouches of iced tea to wake you up, put you to sleep, cool you off, improve your health, and other such “flavors”. I assume there were tea bags inside of the pouches.

At the pharmacy, the Panda Tea sign says, "Teas for the well-being of the entire family. " No wonder Madame is scraching her head.

 

I saw some bags again in another shop. Translation of the flavors: "Caressing Coconut", "For the Love of Organic Strawberries", and "The Wellpring of Maoris". Hmm. 

 

Then the third time, on the menu of a nice restaurant where we were lunching: Special drink of the day, Thé Glacé, 4 euros!

Of course I had to order it. Quel surpris: This was NOT southern iced tea. No one asked me, “sweet or unsweet?”. And it arrived in a tiny glass. And it was almost clear! Plus it had flowers in it. It wasn’t particularly cold. I asked the waiter what sort of tea it was: “Green tea, Madame”, he said. A strange choice, in my book. See photo of my thé glacé at top.

So as an experiment, I later ordered a thé glacé at our local café. It was market day and it was an unseasonably hot 98 degrees, so I was looking forward to something large and icy.

It came in a very small bottle (peach flavored) with a small glass with exactly one tiny ice cube in it. 

One pitiful ice cube? Just no.

So, for the French, here is a primer on how to make Southern Iced Tea:

Southern Sweet Tea (or unsweetened, if you must) is made not by the glass but in a big pitcher and kept in the fridge, ice cold. It will keep for about a week.

Now THIS is Southern Sweet Tea (photo courtesy of the Kitchn)

The absolute laziest way:  

Fill a pitcher with water, drop 3 Lipton family sized tea bags in it, and leave it overnight to steep. Remove tea bags and you’re done.

Sun tea: 

As above, but put the pitcher in the sun for about three hours. It should be in a clear glass container.

The above methods are best for unsweetened tea. If you want to add sugar, you’ll want to use the method below, nearly as easy, also faster.

The Classic Way: Sweet-tea is sort of one word in Southern, and this is my method for it. Boil a large pot of water. up to a cup of sugar per gallon for sweet tea, but I put just 2 tablespoons for a large pitcher, for lightly sweet. You’ll need to experiment a bit here to see how you like it. 

Use 3 family sized black tea bags per gallon (or a dozen small ones), brand of your choice. Nothing fancy, Lipton or Tetley will do. Bring a large pot of water to a rolling boil. Remove from heat, add the tea bags and let steep for a while. Five minutes is the minimum, but I leave it 20 minutes or more then dilute it. Remove tea bags and  stir in the sugar. Cool and pour into a large glass pitcher. Add more water to taste, stir, and chill.

If you have a household with tea drinkers of various tastes, make two pitchers, one fully sweet and one not, and folks can combine them as they pour their own glass.

To serve: 

Pour into a glass over lots of ice. A slice of lemon or lime or a sprig of mint is not really optional.

What do you think? How do you make your iced tea, and have you encountered iced tea in France?

 

Favorite TV: I like to watch European shows, bien sûr, and our favorite one lately is one our kids told us about called Signora Volpe. Watch it for the beautiful Italian scenery! 

 

 

 

 

The Art of the Detail

Details details! It's what makes French architecture, from a distant era, so interesting and beautiful. And nothing speaks of beauty like the French door and the French window. Which is why I always seem to end up with a collection of them in my photo files.

In a French town or village, there are often rows of stucco or stone townhouses, close to the road. So sometimes a door or window is what gives  these rows of homes a soul, and they are often adorned with flowers or lace curtains or fancy doorknockers.

And then there are the elaborate carved window and door details from historic buildings that stop you in your tracks. So from the lowliest abode to the finest château, here are some French windows and doors to make you smile.

 

A carving over a medieval gothic window

 

Windows like these, common in France, are called oeil de boeuf, a bull's eye window. But this is the first one I've seen with a fitted shutter.

 

White roses, lace curtains--oh so French!

 

Some fabulously ornate windows in Nancy

 

Love the peephole!

 

A couple of lovingly adorned windows on street-front houses:

A flowery wall frames this arched window

 

Here I was intrigued by the wonderful peeling paint, the collapsing shutters, and the small effort of the five plastic roses stuck in abandoned window boxes

 

A very old and unique doorway in Saint-Gengoux-le-Nationale

 

This old door, in the Lanquedoc, is about 4 feet tall

 

Two very pretty entries in Châteauneuf

 

Brass bells are common doorbells for houses in la campagne

 

I love the serious overhang on this door in Mersault, like the dome on a church

 

In Beaune, a back-alley entrance to a cooking store

 

At the Château de Bagnols in the Beaujolais,a very old and impressive entry door

 

Even the backplates for a lock get special attention

 

Right on the street,  an entry with no front yard gets dressed up with a pretty doorway and a grapevine

A lovely doorway at the Château Sainte-Sabine

 

Our reader and friend, artist Tom Vieth, is obviously taken with French doorways as well

You can see more of his paintings here.

 

In the COMMENTS: Paula, sorry about your tulips, and I have no idea how the gardens keep them on schedule and perfect. Cindy, rivers of color is right, it was spectacular. Hi there Virginia, and yes, with Joan and Benito, it was fun. Bonnie, glad you enjoyed Beaune. And isn't it fascinating that the variegated tulips were caused by a virus? Hi Thea, and yes, we are carrying on, Covid-cautious but still having fun.

Favorite Reads: Our official Reader Natalia says she heard The Anomaly, by Hervé Le Tellier, was great --but she can't get into it. Have you read it? Meanwhile, I reserved a copy of the mystery The Paris Apartment, but my husband got hold of it and now he won't let it go!

 

 

Amsterdam in Bloom!

Are tulips your favorite flower? They are at the top of the list for me. So our spring trip was a river cruise to Amsterdam with our great friends from California,  to see the tulips—cancelled due to Covid, but we carried on by car.

If you love flowers, you’ve heard of the famous Keukenhof gardens, outside of Amsterdam: tulip-viewing central. We were late to the game, and they had beheaded the bright bulb-growing fields of tulips around the gardens. But no matter, the garden itself was a big surprise: huge, lushly landscaped, and still brimming with tulips in endless varietites.

 

A lot of the tulips were breathing their last gasp of beauty, exploding into a full, blowsy, frill of petals, floppy or feathery, which I loved. 

 

But others were just popping out, because they use the “lasagna method” of planting. Early blooming bulbs get planted at the top, then later bloomers go below. That way, you get months of flowering.

A bit of lasagne layering:

 

I’ve waded through my gabillion photos to tantalize you with the best. Gaze at the gardens, and test your tulip trivia.

 

The gardens were beautifully landscaped:

 

Here are some lovelies:

 

Looks like a peony, but it's a tulip.

 

Tulips weren’t the only beauties in this park.

 

 

The garden featured lots of flora, but fauna too.

 

Tulip Trivia: the word “tulip” comes from a Persian word meaning “turban”.

Little white turbans:

The elusive black tulip, not yet achieved. These are black in the shade, but the sunlight reveals their aubergine genes.

In the early days, tulips were a pricey Dutch luxury item.“Flamed”, or striped tulips, were all the rage. The coloration actually originated as a virus, carried from one bulb to the next by insects. In the 1600’s, you could buy just one of these bulbs for the price of a luxury car or a house!

 

Try this at home! This picture shows the “lasagna method” of planting, used in these gardens to extend the season.

Some bulbs on display

Not surprisingly, the Dutch Masters loved to paint tulips
.

 

We saw these traditional blue Delft-ware tulip vases all over Amsterdam.

 

And then, of course, there was ice cream.

 

 

Favorite READS: News flash: Our loyal reader Francine Chough has written a book! And a cookbook at that, our favorite sort of livre. Even better, they are her French family recipes. It has an intriguing title: Bricks in a Pebble Sauce.You can order the book here. Felicitations, Francine!

 

Partying with the Saint of Wine

There is a very special wine festival that happens every year in Burgundy. Sadly I missed it this year, but reporting from the front is our Australian friend Derek. He lives with his Canadian partner Debbie in the village where the festival took place. Debbie and our friend Julie, a Californian who lives in France part of the year, were our photographers. Mille mercis to the three of them for today’s great post.

 

Many places have their annual festival. New York has its Macey’s Thanksgiving Day parade and Boston has its marathon. Well Burgundy has its Saint Vincent Tournante. So what is a tournante? Tournante in French simply means ‘rotating’ and this is a festival that is shared among 30 villages in the wine region of Burgundy around Beaune. Each year the festival moves to another village until they’ve all had a turn. But why Saint Vincent? Being named after a saint certainly lends gravitas to the event and the day does begin with a morning march of the faithful through the vineyards accompanied by brass and percussion instruments. Each village is represented and carries a carved wooden image of the ‘saint’ bearing the village’s name. And even though the two day festival begins on a Saturday, there is full mass in the village church after the parade.

But there were many possible Saint Vincents from history and the best explanation for the use of the name for the festival seems to be that ‘Vincent’ begins with the word ‘vin’ (wine).  And the local vignerons need no better reason to celebrate the saint than that.

This was Puligny-Montrachet’s third turn at hosting the festival, the previous time being in 1991. So it was a much anticipated event in the village and preparations began at least three years before. The four elements, earth, air, fire and water were to be the theme and the whole village was decorated in the colors and symbols of these themes.

Umbrellas for the "water" theme...

...and hot air balloons for the "air" theme

 

Our part of town was to be ‘water’ and so we decorated our courtyard gate with blue paper and prehistoric sea animals. Not immediately apparent why perhaps, but I’m told this region was under water in the Jurassic, and this is what created the calcareous soils so favourable to wine making. All the locals got into the spirt of things and the decorations were everywhere. Even the tree lined streets leading into the village were decorated, with every tree festooned with hand made paper flowers. There must have been tens of thousands of them.

A "montgolfière" done up in paper flowers, with a basket made of corks

 

Future wine drinker

 

Normally the Tournante is held in January in the depths of Winter but this year it was delayed by 14 months due to covid and so it was held in March 2022. As luck (or divine intervention) would have it, the weather on both days was perfect; sunny and warm (for March). There were bands and stilt-walkers and large crowds turned up in buses. Everyone clearly had a wonderful time tasting the many excellent local wines on offer and dining on some pretty decent takeaway food. I say ‘clearly’ because, as the day wore on, more and more people felt the urge to break into spontaneous song. These mini-chorales usually involved 4 to 6 people and could start up at any time.  The most common songs were about being proud to be from Burgundy (fair enough) or that peculiar little clapping song that people here sing with no real words but somehow sounding very French -- La-la la-la la-la-lee-la-laira (the Ban Bourguignon) and sometimes of course, La Marseilles. 

A musical parade through the vines

 

So two days of fun and frivolity and then suddenly it was all over. The crowds slowly dissipated but the decorations remained up for another week. Now the village is back to normal and the serious business of making the wine is back in full swing. If you missed the event this year you can catch it next year in Fleys. But it won’t be as good as Puligny-Montrachet – how could it be?

 

 

Happily, this is not a real horse

 

Not surprisingly, some of the decorations feautred used corks

Derek, our writer today, and Debbie, our photographer

And our photographer Julie, amongst the paper flowers

 

In the COMMENTS: Thank you Sue, it is paradise to us. As you know, Patty, and we hope to see you soon. Natalia, Suzanne H, and Melinda are making soup! Love the idea of the jalapeños. Suzanne, it's a challenge to chop the squash, I see this as a husband task, or any strong person passing through the kitchen. Suzanne D., loved your bistro story. Been there!

Favorite TV :I think it's been around a while, but have you seen Murder in Provence, on Britobx? Witty dialogue and lots of French scenery porn. Inexplicably, they used British actors, pretending to be French. But if you can get over that, it's great fun.

 

A Medieval Stroll, And Then Lunch

April in Beaune has been quite chilly. In fact, the vines are in danger again, after the hardest April freeze since 1947! it’s warmer now, but not quite spring weather, so it's time for une promenade, followed by soup to warm things up. 

I’ve been working on perfecting my butternut squash soup for years, and recently I found a tip from Thomas Keller of the French Laundry that gave it that je ne sais quoi that took it to the next level. He swirls a bit of browned butter into his version at the last minute. Oh la la!

But first, on va flâner, we’re going to amble, wander, and loiter a bit. We love being at the heart of a medieval city, and I never venture out without my phone tucked in my back pocket, to capture the details. On y va--we're off!

 

Just around the corner, a little park forms a shortcut between two rues.

 

In a park along the Boulevard, which is the circular road around the walled city, an imposing statue

 

A grand round tower forms part of the ramparts.

 

Hot air balloons are a common sight in Beaune, skimming over the rooftoops and the vines.

 

Carved details on a very old building. This guy reminds me of a Charleston alligator.

 

A charming little tower beckons you to mount the ramparts

 

Just a small fun detail, set into the side of a house

 

Two mansions and a 16th century courtyard were blended to form The Hotel Cep

 

Children dance on the market square

 

An in-town wine château, with one of the colorful tile roofs common in the area

 

Msr. Etienne Jules Marey, a famous physiologist and chronophotographer, forever in repose by la bibliothèque

 

A charming cottage, high up on the ramparts

 

A boot scraper, by an old door, is a thing of beauty

 

The moody river La Bouzaize, across from the Wine School near our house

And now for lunch...

 

RECIPE: Roasted Butternut Squash Soup Extraordinaire

After I cook this, I taste it and add more spices if needed. Add a bit of cardamon and/or fresh grated ginger, too,  if you like. I sometimes throw a few carrots on the roasting pan, if my squash is small.

 

1 large butternut squash, cut into large chunks, seeds removed (but not peeled)

1 large onion, peeled and quartered

1 pear or apple, cored and quartered

2 tablespoons olive oil

1/2 teaspoon cinnamon

1/4 teaspoon nutmeg

1/2 teaspoon cumin

1 teaspoon curry powder

dash of cayenne pepper

1 tablespoon brown sugar or maple syrup, more to taste

1/2 cup orange juice

1/2 cup wine (optional)

1 14 oz can coconut milk, more to taste

a generous splash of brandy

1/2 stick of butter

chives and sour cream to garnish

Pre-heat oven to 425. Place squash on a sheet pan and toss with olive oil (I put a silpat on the sheet pan).  Spread pieces out so they do not touch. Add onions and fruit.

Roast until squash is soft and edges begin to brown, 40 minutes to an hour. Cool.

Using a large spoon, scoop squash out and discard peels. Add to a soup pot with the roasted onion and fruit. Add the orange juice and wine, if using. Add water just to cover. Stir in spices and the brown sugar or syrup. Bring to boil, then reduce to simmer and cover. Cook 45 minutes or so, until everything is really soft.

Add coconut milk and blend with immersion blender until smooth. Taste to correct seasoning. If soup is too thick, add more coconut milk, or regular milk. 

Just before serving, reheat and stir in brandy. Ladle into bowls and top with a swirl of brown butter, a dollop of sour cream, and chives.

For the brown butter: melt butter in a small, wide saucepan over medium to medium low heat. Swirl it around, it will begin to bubble. When it begins to smell nutty and turns a light golden brown, remove from heat. Watch it closely, it can burn easily—let your nose be your guide. It only takes two or three minutes, total, so man your post.

 

In the COMMENTS: Aryn we look forward to seeing you this summer (Aryn Has an amazing story to tell, which she will share in an upcoming post). Anne, an Ambush Adoption  is a new term for me, and I love it! And speaking of cats, our loyal reader Suzanne has her own French cream puff who is an Internet sensation. Check out her blog, Living with Loulou, written by her famous Cat. Bonnie, please post those pictures on your blog! You can find Bonnie’s blog at Chez Bon- My Provence Life. She also sells beautiful French vintage items on her Etsy site. And if you haven't checked out Susan Vieth's blog, A Small Village in France lately, you are in for a French treat, as her last few posts have been especially charming. And speaking of cats and dogs, visit with Kristi at French Word A day if you haven't lately, and learn about her pup with an excellent "nose",  just like her husband.

Favorite READS: Lots of books to recommend this week. Anne is reading a WWII novel called The Rose Code, by Kate Quinn. And on the subject of war, my walking buddies Suzanne and Rita rave about the thriller Dead Wake: The Last Crossing of the Lusitania; and our reader Suzanne recommends Villa Air-Bel: World War II, Escape, and a House in Marseille .  By the way, Suzanne has her own book out, a cookbook called No Need to Knead: Handmade Artisan Breads in 90 minutes. And if you're looking for a French read, Natalia loves author Cara Black, and has just finished her latest, Murder at the Port de Versailles.

 

Les Petits Chouchous: The Beloved Pets of France

From time to time we do a photo gallery of les animaux of France.  Mostly cats and dogs, but this year we have one interloper in our fauna.

Let's start with les chiens. In the photo above: On a street near us in Beaune, there are big heavy wooden doors which occasionally swing open to reveal the most wonderful of courtyards, guarded by this cutie, although he doesn't look very ferocious.

 

And If you've been to Beaune, you may recognize this fluffy bit of canine, below. He's a regular fixture at the Saturday market, the darling of the flower vendor.

 

This elegant chien was for sale at a French flea market.

 

Next up: the park near our house has a lake with many varieties of ducks. This mama, I believe she is a type of Coot, built her nest out in the water, where she would not be disturbed. 

 

When we were staying near Nice this year, this cat lived in our neighborhood and entertained us every time we passed his perch.  No, he's not snarling; he's a lazy bum, and those bared teeth are from a yawn.

 

A pair of cozy felines, spotted at a flea market

 

 

This particular cat, which happens to be our very own Vino Bambino, is upsidedownwards in Ron's lap, for reasons only he understands. Maybe trying to catch that sunbeam.

Here is mon petit chouchou, (my little cream puff, a term of endearment), right side up:

 

Two cats spotted on a walk in Beaune:

 

From my favorite Beaune vintage store, here is a carousel cat on an elegant silk Hermes scarf:

 

The beauties below are not French, but are rescue cats taken in by my Francophile friend Belinda, who lived in France for a while, and I've included this photo because they are simply irresistible. She fosters kittens, as I have done--and I highly recommend it if you want to be entertained or just need perking up. Just beware of Foster Failures, as there's a chance you may be unwittingly adopted by a cat (Belinda has two Foster Failures; Vino Bambino is one also).

 

And one last heart-warming foster story: My friend Agnes delivered this frightened,  abandoned kitten to me a couple of years ago, to foster. The widowed owner of a château in the area soon showed up to adopt her; he had never had a cat and knew nothing about them, but he had a Labrador that he felt was lonely and needed a companion. We were a bit worried how one little handful of fur would adjust to a big dog and a big château. Update: She is now the châtelaine, the queen of the castle; he says she runs the place. She is the boss of both him AND the dog. This will not be a surprise to anyone owned by a cat.

 

In the COMMENTS: I was amazed by the number of great ouvrier lunch stories y'all had. Ron and I both enjoyed reading the tales from Page, Susan, Rhonda, Martin, Ali and Monty. Page has a really special story, but Martin we got the biggest laugh from yours--that's so French! Rhonda, you've stumped us, we don't know where that place is in Beaune. Paula, your post brought back memories of our visit to Cognac, such a beautiful place. Chris, hoping you can reschedule your trip when (if?) things calm down. In the recipe department,  Suzanne has a yummy tart idea and Francine was kind enough to share her recipe for a true French quiche, made from les restes--leftovers.

Favorite READS: Looking for inspiration and comfort in these troubled times? I'm reading, and loving, The Beauty of Dusk, by New York Times opinion writier Frank Bruni. After a health trauma, he explores the hidden disabilities so many of us have. And my friend Nancy recommends Just Show Up: The Dance of Walking Through Suffering Together.   

 

 

A Laborer's Lunch, French Style

Ouvrier, n. m/f, -ière

1. worker 2. laborer 3. workman

I will tell you a secret about French life, which may be useful if you visit, and if you're hungry.

In French restaurants dans la campagne, there’s déjeuner, then there’s the Ouvrier Dejeuner. Lunch, and the working man’s lunch (I say "man", because there aren't a lot of female ouvriers). Ron figured this out when he noticed that all the little white camionettes (those cute white workers' trucks that are everywhere in France) tend to park at a single restaurant on particular days, and he’s been searching out ouvrier lunches ever since. And since he got his own camionette, he can play the game for real. 

Here is how it works:  the proper ouvrier restaurant is usually the one by the side of the road, in a small village or on a departmental road. And if you are looking for a bargain-priced, hearty lunch, just look for the camionettes. If one goes in dressed normally (that is, with clean clothes), as a couple or a family, one will be seated and given a menu in the cheerful, more polished room. But when an ouvrier  walks in, in dirty jeans or the ubiquitous dark blue jumpsuit, he might be shown to a different table, perhaps in a back room,  and he will eat a different  meal—heartier and cheaper-- than the “clean” guests will.

Ron and our châtelin Pierre, covered in dust and dirt from demolishing a ceiling in one of the barns, decided to try this out one day. Since Pierre rarely lunches out, this was new to him too. They were led past the white tablecloths  where diners politely regarded their menus, to a back room with a communal table that had a large pitcher of red wine in the center. There were no choices, no menu handed out; lunch simply began arriving, in large portions, as the French flew as fast as the forks. First up, paté on a bed of lettuce with cornichons. Next came a steaming plate of chicken with potatoes and a vegetable. Wine and water were passed around the table from the communal carafes. Next, a huge plank with six or so cheeses was plunked down, with the hungry workers cutting off large slabs to go with their baguette. Time for dessert: crème caramel. Expresso followed. All this for the price of a pizza or a salad at a brasserie. 

Another day our friend Ali, all cleaned up in her best jeans, joined Ron and the the boys for lunch after they completed a project at their house. They went to Buxy, where there is the side room for the ouvriers and the sunny room with the pastel tablecloths for the proper customers.  Madame didn't want to let them in for the ouvrier lunch (no women allowed perhaps, or Ali was too clean?). "There is no choice on the menu," Madame said, "it’s for the workers."  Ron, streaked with mud and sawdust, finally raised his arms and twirled around, to show off his dusty self, and they were admitted. 

Ron and his friends who make up our handyman team will work for lunch, so I often fix them something chez nous, after a big project.   A working man needs hearty fare, so here is an idea for a quick and filling déjeuner. Just add wine and cheese.

 

RECIPE: An (elegant!) Ouvrier's Lunch

I spotted these tarts at a French traiteur (the fancy gourmet take-out shops you see all around France), and I thought they were a great idea. They had simply heaped vegetables and/or meats onto puff pastry and topped them with fresh herbs or greens. I always seems to have some leftover veggies and bits of meat in the fridge, so I can make them with minimal effort, using ready-made puff pastry (in France, it's pâte feuilletée). Or you could sauté some mushrooms and onions for a filling, or roast some carrots and red peppers to top the pre-cooked pastry...endless possibilities! If you heat them up, dust them with some cheese first, or simply shower them with fresh herbs  or arugula before serving.

 

In the COMMENTS: Francine, since that mosaic is in Menton, it may very well be Cocteau's work. It certainly looks like it. Colleen, we can't wait to see that children's book, keep us posted.

 

Off-the-wall art, on the Wall

In Beaune there is a wine school, and this mural is featured on one of their buildings.

Lots of big cities are big into colorful murals on the walls of their buildings: Lyon, Melbourne, Philadelphia, Berlin and so on. 

In the small towns of Burgundy and around France, one often sees smaller, more intimate versions of the huge urban mural. Often they are painted where a window was closed up, or to spruce up a public space. 

I like to collect photos of these artistic moments when I'm traveling around. So take a peek at my little musée du jour, of French wall art.

 

In Beaune, this trompe l'oeil painting is on an antique store.

 

Madame watches over the town, in Meursault

 

This is the window of a winery, on our street in Beaune.

 

In Meursault, this mural showcases a sculptor

 

In a Burgundy wine village, this one hangs on a gate

A wall mural at our local poisonnerie (fish shop) in Beaune

 

A different kind of wall art: a video light show in Beaune, one of 7, more pix here.

 

A wall in the South of France: reality meets faux

 

Just follow the fish to exit a parking garage at Villefranche-sur-Mer

In

 

In Cap Ferrat, a wall of ivy that doesn't need trimming.

 

In Menton, a large wall of mosaic stones

In the COMMENTS: Jane, we must try those English sandwiches. Martin has a recipe for eggs with cress. Emily, I just love the Paris mayo story! Carrie, a deconstructed egg salad is the perfect term for it. Now I must try eggs mimosa, recommended by Bonnie and Patricia. Ali, eggs meurette is a different thing altogether, and delicious.

Favorite READS: Natalia likes the historical novel, The Paris Secret, and Anne Marie recommends the historical family chronicle, The Art of Losing by Alice Zenter. And a big shout out to my great friend Rita, who introduced me to Henri, Le Chat Noir!

A special note, for anyone who's thinking of moving to France: our reader Beverly, an American living in Charleston, is selling her charming little townhouse in Brantôme, in the southwest of France, for a modest price. If you haven't been there--Brantôme, the "Venice of France", is one of the most beautiful towns in the country and a favorite of ours. You can get the details here. The house is across the street from the river but includes a small terrace on the river.

 

 

The Most Popular French Dish You've Never Had

 

This lovely French watercolor is by Tom Veith, who lives in the Dordogne. His work is available at http://www.thomasvieth.com

 I read an article in the Local (French news in English) that named the number one French take-out dish during the pandemic (as measured by the biggest food delivery service in France). Can you guess? I would have guessed pizza. Or coq au vin maybe. 

Can you guess the answer? I never would have in a million years. There's a clue in the painting above.

Drum roll: l’Oeuf Mayonnaise.

Now I’ve lived in France almost 19 years, and I’ve never made or been served eggs with mayonnaise. I don’t even remember seeing it on menus. I was vaguely aware of it as French comfort food, something that didn’t look particularly enticing. But apparently it’s a classic that’s made a big comeback. Or maybe it's just a Parisian thing.

For the uninitiated, this dish consists of a boiled egg, something between soft and hard boiled, with a jammy yolk. The  egg is covered with mayo (traditionally it is totally covered, sort of glazed), then topped with chives. Or, if you want to get creative, top it with bacon bits, caviar, etc.

So, I did a deep dive into French recipes for this king of take-outs. Lots of opinions on this one! Even people who don’t like either eggs or mayonnaise are said to be captivated by this simple dish. Since mayo is mostly made of eggs, it’s basically eggs on eggs. Or as my husband describes it: egg salad, without stirring it.

Some chefs wax poetic about how perfectly the egg must be cooked, exactly how you must make the mayo, etc. The very famous chef Joel Robuchon, however, suggests you just plop down a scoop of store-bought mayo on a boiled egg. I think even we can improve on that.

Homemade mayo seems compulsory here, and of course it’s easy to make. I bought pasteurized eggs for mine, to avoid the salmonella problem. If you've never made homemade mayo, you are in for a treat! I don't actually like regular mayo, not my choice for a sandwich. But homemade? I could eat it with a spoon. It's great on everything.

As to boiling an egg so it will peel easily, that is one of the great dilemmas of cooking. In the past I’ve tried a dozen methods, and only one has worked, and it works well most of the time. Boil water over medium heat, put the eggs in a steamer basket over the water and cover, and steam them for 12 minutes, for hard boiled. For this recipe, I did 8 minutes, which was about right.

And the result? The mayo was great. The combo was...well, uninspiring, to both the testers in my household. Let us know what you think. But I am going to roast some asparagus tonight, to dip into that yummy mayo!

 

RECIPE: L’oeuf Mayonnaise

Boil eggs so that the yolk stays jammy, by steaming them over gently boiling water for about 8 minutes. Plunge in ice water briefly, then peel. Leave them whole or cut in half.

Put eggs on a plate and glaze with homemade mayonnaise (I just plopped it on, as my mayo turned out very thick). Top with snipped chives, or other toppings as desired.

For the mayonnaise:

• 1 pasteurized egg, plus 1 yolk
• 1.5  tablespoons of lemon juice
• 1 teaspoon dijon mustard
• 1/2 teaspoon salt
• 1/4 teaspoon sugar
• a dash of black pepper and cayenne
• 1 cup oil (I used half canola and half olive oil)
• Optional: add fresh herbs if you like, or stir in minced shallots at the end.

Add all ingredients except oil to a blender, mix until well blended. Then add the oil in a slow steady stream. It's delicious as a salad dressing, a dip for vegetables, or to top sliced tomatoes. Or eggs!

 

Favorite READS: Does everyone know Henri, le Chat Noir? If not, you really must meet him. He is quite the French (and Anglo) celebrity, and although I've read his little book over and over (it lives in my powder room), it never fails to crack me up. Henri is a cat with existential angst, in the French manner. He is also a youtube star,  and you can get started on his videos here.

And our reader Anne Marie recommends Perestroika In Paris for animal lovers. That would be me! Here is a review of Jane Smiley's book at NPR.

 

 

What Emily in Paris Got Right

Dear Emily,

We absolutely loved watching your Paris adventures on Netflix, season 1 and now season 2. Especially those of us who live in France, or visit often. My husband and I found ourselves repeatedly saying, "Yes!! You got it right! That’s so FRENCH!"

We hear that some Parisians are upset that you blatantly perpetuated so many French stereotypes, especially Parisian ones. Maybe because some of them are true? Certainly, Emily, you showed that you have a love affair with Paris, and you spoiled us with SO much beautiful Paris scenery. The trip on the Bateaux-Mouches, the Eiffel tower lit up like a starry beacon, the cute streets, the beautiful restaurants, the newly fluffed Samaritane department store. And the clothes, Emily, the clothes!  We were dazzled.

 

So here are some of the times we think you nailed the quirks of French life.

—We had a good laugh when the Peloton people wanted to break into the French market. We could see what was coming. The staff at Savoir were baffled. Why would you ride a bike indoors, that goes nowhere, when you can ride in the fresh air on the lovely streets of Paris? Bravo. The French are not gym rats. They walk with family, they cycle, they walk to do their errands. They are not exercise fanatics, but they are on the move.

 

—The French love l’amour. and there’s a lot of it going on in your show, including nudity, which the French are not shy about. I'm not sure the French's reputation of being more forgiving about affairs is true, but it isn't true that everyone here is having a secret, or not so secret, tryst. Affairs are a universal phenomenon, bien sûr!  

A French babe, spotted at a flea market

—We shook our heads knowingly when there was a heat wave in Paris, and fans were sold out everywhere. This is a French thing. Any other country worth their capitalism would be frantically shipping them in from somewhere, but not the French. When they’re gone, they’re gone, even if the heat wave is just starting. Tant pis!

—The French reserve. Your boss Sylvie is the perfect example. You work with her, but that doesn’t mean she’s your friend. You have to prove yourself first.

—You don’t speak French. Bad. But you are taking French lessons. Good. The French have no patience with foreigners who live there but don’t at least try to learn to speak their language. Neither do expats, actually.  Alfie, you are disrespecting the French! We are glad you went back to London. 

Our Northern Irish friend Joan practices her French with our dearly departed châtelin, Pierre.

 

--Madeline as the Ugly American--well we hope all Americans aren't that ugly, but for sure her clueless faux pas are typical of some. 

Emily, we love you, and we look forward to your return. And are you ever going to get together with that hunky French chef? The one who just can’t make up his mind? Don’t let him get away!

Amicalement,

Lynn

 

Now for a very French recipe that Chef Gabriel would be proud of.  Our loyal readers Lee and Maureen, who kindly invited us for aperos when they were visiting Charleston, make a mean tapenade, and they agreed to share the recipe.

 

RECIPE: Maureen's Tapenade

You can used canned olives, as Maureen did, or kick it up a notch with some good gourmet Niçoise or Greek black olives, if you can get your hands on them. I didn't have any Meyer Lemon olive oil (though it sounds fabulous), so I just used regular, and added a splash of lemon juice.

1-6 oz (170 grams) can of kalamata olives, pitted & drained
1/4 cup of capers
1/2 cup whole unsalted almonds
1/2 cup Meyer lemon olive oil
salt and pepper to taste

Pulse all ingredients in food processor to fine texture, and serve with crackers.

 

In the COMMENTS:Betina recommends a train documentary called Taken for a Ride. Patricia sees security as an issue in the States (witness the terrible subway incident just this week). Susan points out how lovely it is to travel on trains in the snow, no driving worries. Natalia and Paula are nostalgic for the US trains,  as many of you are, but like Patricia is sorry the stations are in unsafe neighborhoods. Pete says, train travel is headed south in the UK too. And Martin, ah yes, those French strikes! (still can’t get over running into y’all in a small French village, Martin). Suzanne has great local service like we do, and Tom, sometimes it’s good to be a senior!

Favorite READS: Our friend Terry has discovered a new cookbook called The Wicked Healthy Cookbook. He has gone to a plant based diet, and was struggling with it until he discovered this book--the recipes and flavors wowed him. Even if you just do Meatless Mondays, this one is worth checking out.

Our Dutch friend Marit has a business that anyone dreaming of living in Burgundy will be interested in! Marit is very sharp, personable, and speaks several languages. The poster below explains.

 

 

 

Boxcar Blues, but Not in France

Eighteen years in France, and I'll never get used to it: the amazing, efficient, fun, relaxing, and climate-friendly train travel that is so pervasive in France (and in Europe), yet so utterly rare in the United States.

Living in Beaune, the ease of train travel is nothing short of astonishing. Take a ride with me and see.

Dijon is a 45 minute car trip from Beaune. It's a good sized city (150,000), and parking is not easy or cheap. At an hour and a half round trip, we wouldn't go often.

So a friend and I decided to go by train, for a shopping day in Dijon. We left my house at 9, and walked down the tree-lined street to the train station. By exactly 9:19, we had bought tickets and we were comfortably situated in the cushy seats of a new modern train car. We marveled at the views, checked email and barely had time to peruse the morning headlines; 17 minutes later we were walking the two blocks to the central shopping district of Dijon. No parking, no traffic, no fuss, just a pleasant journey.

The main Place in architecturally rich Dijon. Photo courtesy of European Waterways.

 Paris is a four and a half hour drive from Beaune (though no reasonable person would drive in Paris). But we can stroll to our train station and be there in time to do some shopping before we déjeuner.

From our area, Paris is 4.5 hours by car--or a 1.5 hour voyage by TGV

We can zip down to Lyon, or up to Strasbourg. Or we can just hop a train and go to lunch in nearby Nuits St. George or Gevry-Chambertin--it's a 10 or 15 minute trip. And did I mention it's all cheaper than driving and parking?

Why oh why has the states lagged behind on this? With the trains (and the rapid round-abouts instead of traffic lights), France has traffic under control. I think if all Americans could experience the delight of abandoning their cars for train trips like this, they'd be fussing with the powers that be to get the ball train rolling!

An added benefit of train travel: the beautiful scenery of rural Burgundy

 

By train there are lots of fun destinations within an hour of Beaune

Have you enjoyed the European rail system? Do share. And a very happy new year to all. Bonne santé et bonne année!!

 

In the COMMENTS:Monique, great story about the papillotes, and Sandy how lucky you are to have an annual supply arriving at your door. Natalia, my neighbor said she also printed out the quotes—like Debbie, my favorite one is “I decided to be happy, it’s better for my health”. Peggy, I love the idea of southern sayings for your delicious handmade chocolates. Hmm, we may have to get suggestions from our southern readers. Suzanne (of Living with Loulou), I had forgotten you were in Collioure —what a beautiful place.

Favorite READS: No books to recommmend today, but a new TV show for fellow travelers: A remake of Around the World in 80 Days, on Masterpiece Theater, now showing Sunday evenings, and streaming.

 

 

A Christmas Tale of l'Amour, and Chocolate

Sorry for the delay, I'm having server issues.

 

It seems to have become a Southern Fried French tradition: the sharing of les papillotes. You may remember from past posts that les papillotes are the traditional chocolates bonbons in France (Révillon being the most popular brand), which  reveal, when you unwrap the shiny exterior, a chocolate wrapped in a little inspirational quote. They are sold only at Christmas. We buy them by the bagful, ostensibly to practice our French.

But I did not know the legend of how les papillotes came to be until Nicole, our favorite châtelaine, filled me in. And what a romantic French story of l'amour it is!

"In the 1800's", said Nicole, "there was a confiseur (confectioner) on one of the squares in Lyon. His name was Monsieur Papilott. Above the shop was an apartment rented by a beautiful young girl. A young man who worked in the shop was completely smitten by her beauty. Too shy to proclaim his love, he sent her chocolates from the shop below, but wrapped in little love notes, or mots doux, as the French call those sweet nothings one whispers to a loved one.

Was he sucessful in his pursuit? We can't be sure. But what woman could resist the combo of gourmet chocolate and love notes? Certainly not me.

Nicole continues, "The confiseur got wind of this, and he liked the idea so much that he began to wrap all of his chocolates in bits of inspiration. And the rest is la histoire. The chocolates came to be known as les papillotes. 

So, for your French practice (maybe that's your New Year's resolution?), here are a sampling of this year's quotes, carefully selected from les papillottes we consumed this year, just for you. Cheat sheet at the bottom. And by the way, the plate below was not a single serving for this blogger, though I am surely capable of it. All in the name of love.

 

Ferme les yeux et tu verras.

Joseph Joubert

Un des bonheurs de l'amitié c'est d'avoir à qui confier un secret.

Alessandro Mansoni

Nul n'est plus chanceux que celui qui croit a sa chance.

Proverbe allemand

La joie est en tout, il suffit de savoir l'extraire.

Confucius

Il n'est pas de joie que égale celle de se créer de nouvelles amitiés.

Proverbe japonais

La variété est la véritable épice de la vie quii lui donne toute sa saveur.

William Cowper

Le courage croit en osant et la peur en hésitant.

Proverbe romain

Entre amis, il est si beau que le silence soit d'or, mais le rire bon et frais l'est beaucoup plus encore.

Nietzsche 

Il faut agir en homme de pensée et penser en homme d'action.

Henri Bergson

J'ai décidé d'être heureux, c'est meilleur pour la santé.

Voltaire

Si on ne peut pas rire au paradis,  je ne tiens pas à y aller.

Martin Luther

 

Cheat Sheet:

Close your eyes, and you will see.

One of the joys of friendship is to have someone we can trust with a secret.

No one is luckier than he who believes in his luck.

Joy is everywhere, you just need to know how to extract it.

There is no joy equal to creating a new friendship.

Variety is the true spice of life which gives it its flavor.

Courage increases in daring, and fear in hesitating.

Between friends, it's so beautiful that silence is golden, but good laughter is even more so.

It's necessary to act as a man of thought, and think as a man of action.

I decided to be happy, it's better for my health.

If one can't laugh in heaven, I don't want to go there.

 

So that's the end of our French story. And the French do love l'amour!

How did you do? And now, to all our dear readers, here's hoping you have a very merry Christmas, and a bonne année as well!

 

Favorite READS: Our favorite reader in Residence, Natalia, recommends two books for us: The Postmistress of Paris and Go Tell the Bees That I Am Gone. Going on my list! Also, I hear that Emily in Paris, season two, is back on Netflix.

I always love to meet my readers, which happens occasionally, and it was a great pleasure to have tea with Lee and Maureen recently. Bonjour and merci to you both for a lovely afternoon!

 

 

 

 

Beaune Throws a Delicious Party

On the world stage, Beaune plays a starring role in the wine universe, as the center of the storied Burgundy wine region.

So being French, they of course have a fête to celebrate it. Several actually, but the biggest one of the year took place this month: the Fêtes des Grand Vins de Bourgogne, with the most important wine auction in the world as its centerpiece. And the French really know how to throw a party.

The last few years we’ve been in Charleston for the month of November, so somehow I’ve never made it to the festival, much to my chagrin (we were in Beaune November last year, but it was basically cancelled). So we’ve had to rely on reports from friends this year, when it was back in full swing.

In our early days of living in France, Ron went to the festival once, with his buddies. They made a bee-line for the giant Burgundy wine-tasting in the conference center here that is a part of the festivities. There were 1500 wines on offer—all from Burgundy! It was early on in our French séjour, and these débutant (beginner) wine aficionados couldn’t resist finishing their delicious tasting pours, instead of spitting, as is proper—and ended up quitting after the first three booths, too tipsy to tipple. And this year, over a decade later, there were 3000 Burgundy wines.

Better spit, if you want to make a dent in this wine collection

The festival is a busy one: a folklore parade, street shows, themed wine tastings all over Beaune and throughout the region, music, and gala dinners. There is a half marathon that snakes through the vineyards, a light-hearted race with many  runners in costume. Wine is offered along the route, bien sûr, so only fearless runners need apply. 

Rouge or blanc? Santa hands out wine to runners along the marathon route

The main attraction is the wine auction, the 161st  annual Vente des Vins des Hospices de Beaune, said to be the oldest charity in the world. The bidders and wine insiders are fêted at the Clos de Vougeot and the Château de Meursault, at a week-end long feast called Les Trois Glorieuses, or The Three Days of Glory (you and I, as mere mortals, are not invited). Visitors can watch the bidders spend the big bucks, though.

You can see why we hated to miss it. See you there next year?

 

Some happy moments from the parade routes:

 

At the Auction:

 

Costumed up for the half Marathon:

Photo credits: Le Bien Public,  Club Oenologique, Confédération des Appellations et des Vignerons de Bourgogne, The Guardian

 

Hope everyone had a happy Thanksgiving! 

In the COMMENTS:  I see I am not alone in my distress over the noise level in restaurants! As Michaela says, I hope they will get the message. I make it a habit of telling the manager each time. And as Christine and others note, loud music in piped into the grocery store, even onto city streets sometimes. Jay, I can't speak to the noise level in Paris, I haven't been there in a while. But Paris has a population of 2 million and has about 30 million visitors a year, so I'm guessing the noise there is not caused completely by the French. In Burgundy where we live, I can't ever remember encountering a truly noisy restaurant, other than perhaps at a huge brasserie in Lyon. 

Read the comments further to see the music most of you voted on. And don't miss Natalia's recommendations for some great French magazines. Plus Martin has a funny story to share about restaurant music.

 

Dining Out, Conversation Discouraged

First of all, my apologies—my server sent out duplicate emails last week. Trying to fix the problem.

French dining en plein air (in our slightly younger days)

I recently read an article in the New York times, in which the writer was recommending a certain piece of music as being the perfect background music for restaurants. The short article generated a gazillion impassioned reader comments about their preferred restaurant music. The commenters were in clear agreement about what the best restaurant background music was. Classical? Oldies? Current pop? Rock? See if you can guess. 

 

We will reveal that in a minute, but first let me tell you about a recent visit to a gourmet restaurant in Charleston (we are in Charleston at the moment). This was a newish French restaurant called Maison. The food was delicious, the service was good. We sat outside on the terrace. But what was not at all "French" about it: they played impossibly loud, pop/rock music with a throbbing beat you could feel in your bones. Our table of 6 struggled to have a conversation. The waiter declined to turn it down for us: “We need the buzz”, he said. 

 

Do we really? I am using Maison as an example. They are by no means the only upscale Charleston restaurant to play loud music of the sort loved mostly by pre-teens; It’s pretty much the norm. (By the way, I love music, but I hate to listen to music I don't like. You?). Of course we are spoiled: we live in France, where restaurants typically avoid background music altogether, or at most play something soft and peaceful you are barely aware of. Why? Because in France, conversation and relaxation are the goal. No need to be hip or buzzy or whatever American restaurants are striving for. The French keep their voices way lower, too. Of course  one doesn't get in the habit of shouting, if the music is not blaring. 

 

No noise problem here! A late lunch in the city of Reims.

 

Ruth Reichl, former editor of Gourmet and famous food writer, was recently asked in an interview what she disliked the most about US restaurant trends at the moment. Her answer: the incessant loud noise, which includes background music and the lack of softening acoustical material (like curtains, rugs, and other sound absorbers). The noise in many restaurants, by the way, is damaging the hearing of some servers, permanently. Everyone I know complains about it—so it baffles me why they do it. Restauranteurs, have you considered that we might want to actually converse with our friends?

 

Now, back to those New York Times readers, what was the majority vote? Their choice for the best background restaurant music was: no music at all.

 

 

Thanks for allowing me to rant, it's obviously a pet peeve of mine in the States. Now what are your thoughts? Let’s take a vote on your favorite restaurant music.

 

In the COMMENTS: So many chicken suggestions! Cynthia reminds us that chicken stock is easy and essential to make with the bones, skin, and fat. I think it's one of the best reasons to roast a chicken. Ann makes a recipe that has her turkey wearing falsies--don't miss that one. Natalia, I agree: never ever a factory-raised chicken. Not good for you OR the bird. Rollin kindly gave us a link to a simple but tasty recipe by the great Marcella Hazen. Paula has an easy brining technique and a link to her favorite chicken with olives. Peggy cooks a chicken inside a Dutch oven (actually a common French technique). Julie, your daughter has come a long way, and southern fried chicken may be the best of all.

Speaking of southern, reader Page Robertson sends us her favorite Brunswick Stew recipe. When I was eating meat, this was my favorite food (Page says you can make it vegetarian by substituting jackfruit! Hmm).

Brunswick Stew

Makes 8-10 Qt.—easy to half

• 5-6 lb. whole roaster chicken or equivalent boneless parts
• 1-2 lb. pulled pork, chopped
• 2 sticks butter
• 2 large onions, chopped 1 inch
• 3 stalks celery, chopped 1 inch
• 1 C. thick BBQ sauce
• 1 C. brown sugar
• 1 -  28 oz. can chopped tomatoes
• 1 lb. frozen sliced okra
• 2 lb. frozen mixed vegetables
• 2 Tbsp. salt
• 1 tsp. black pepper
• 2 tsp. Worchestershire
• ½ tsp. hot sauce
• ½ tsp. cayenne
• ½ tsp smoky paprika or chili powder
• 3 cloves garlic, chopped
• 2 Tbsp each fresh thyme, rosemary, oregano—pulled from stems
• 4 bay leaves

Cook chicken until just done and chop in bite size pieces. RESERVE BROTH

Saute onions, celery, garlic in butter until tender. Add remaining spices, herbs.

Put all ingredients into soup pot or crockpot and stir. Add chicken broth to cover, 

reserve remaining to add if necessary.

Bring to a boil and cook on low/simmer 4 hr. or longer. Correct seasonings, esp. 

salt and peppers. We like it spicy. Freeze in serving portions as desired.

Favorite READS: I've been reading The Thursday Murder Club, by Richard Osman. Hilarious and original. And speaking of our reader Page Robertson (above), it happens that her daughter is digital editor of Flower Magazine, which a friend happened to give me a copy of this week. It's a beautiful magazine and you will love their site, which you can find here. My friend Sandi is reading something Parisian that I can't wait to read: My Place at the Table: A Recipe for a Delicious Life in Paris, a memoir by Alexander Lobrano. And my friend Rita found a nifty little cookbook called French Cooking in 10 Minutes. Is that possible?!

 

 

The Chicken That Flew Around the World

Lordy me, Mama’s in the kitchen, cookin’ chicken!  Now in the south that would mean the southern fried kind, but we’ll save that for another day.  No, today we’re going to talk about simplest of meals, a roasted chicken. If you need dinner in a hurry, for family or guests, this is your fall-off-a-log, fallback plan. (My mother, who was in the I-hate-to-cook club, once burst out laughing when she learned I was roasting a chicken for a big family dinner. "Even I can make that!" she said).

Which got me to thinking, how do French cooks roast a chicken?  Surely they’re full of closed guarded family secrets, recettes from mère or grand-mère.  I decided to ask my resident experts, the Lyon Ladies.

If you read this blog you know the Lyon Ladies are a group of French femmes that our châtelaine Nicole has been teaching English to weekly for years. And these ladies sure can cook. So, recently, I asked Nicole to post the question to them.

Their reply: French shrug.

They all agreed on the same basic recipe, which is pretty much the same thing I do: you put the poulet in the oven on high heat to brown, lower the heat after 20 minutes or so, and cook until done. Maybe you throw some cut up potatoes and carrots in the bottom of the pan. And baste often. Nothing exotic about that! Sometimes when you think there might be a cultural gap, you discover that some things, tried and true, really do fly around the world.

They did have a few small astuces (tips) to add, however.  “If you cook a really good, farm-raised, grain-fed chicken,” said Lyon Lady Eliane, “you don’t NEED to do anything special to it. Let the taste of the chicken be the star." And especially, I might add, if it’s a Poulet de Bresse, which everyone knows is the best chicken in France (i.e., the world), and which have, for reasons unknown, blue feet. “For a lower quality chicken”, added Giselle, “you might add some herbes de provence.” 

Ah, but Nicole has some French tricks up her sleeve.  “I use a recipe that’s been in our family for a long time. Rub the outside of the chicken with some thyme. Then cut up some good bread, mostly the crusts,  into large chunks and you rub them all over with cut garlic gloves and stuff them in the chicken. It makes a very simple tasty stuffing.”  

This reminded me, too, that in Paris on the Place de Mexico they make the best rotisserie chickens ever, with a deep golden skin, very spicy.  I asked Monsieur  about the spices he uses.  “Just herbes de Provence,” he shrugged.  “But LOTS of herbes de Provence, that’s the secret.” I now rub my chickens with oil and lemon juice and rub in a couple of tablespoons of the dried herbs.

These days I'm mostly a vegetarian (I'm a die-hard animal lover) and only cook chicken for my husband. But I NEVER buy a factory farmed chicken--they live a life of torture. Only a reputable organic, free-range chicken farm for me. And as Eliane says, they taste better too.

A close friend here who is Dutch has a son, Rudy, who lives in Asia.  He’s a great cook in his own right and his good friend and cooking buddy who lived next door is a Michelin starred chef in Beijing.  So I put my question to him, and got this recipe in return. 

So, there IS more than one way to skin a chicken. His  is a really sassy, show-off recipe when you’ve got guests coming. I tried it--divine!  And it has a French connection: it’s stuffed with Boursin cheese (created by a Frenchman named François Boursin, in 1963, in case you were wondering). Thanks, Rudy, for this lovely recipe. 

 

RECIPE: Roast Chicken, Rudy Style

"A 5 pound chicken or however big you like your birds!!!

For the brine:

• 1 gallon cold water
• 1 cup plus 2 teaspoons kosher salt
• 1/4 cup plus 2 tablespoons honey
• 12 bay leaves
• 1 head of garlic, smashed but not peeled
• 2 tablespoons black peppercorns
• 3 large rosemary sprigs
• 1 small bunch of thyme
• 1 small bunch of parsley
• 2 lemons roughly chopped

For the stuffing :

• 1 packet of boursin ( herb flavour – although other flavours are great too)
• 1 lemon
• 2 sprigs of thyme
• 2 sprigs rosemary
• 2 sprigs parsley
• 3 cloves garlic roughly chopped
• salt and pepper

Method

In a very large pot, combine 1 quart of the water with 1 cup of the salt and the honey, bay leaves, garlic, peppercorns, rosemary, thyme and parsley. Add the lemon zest and juice and the lemon halves and bring to a simmer over moderate heat, stirring until the salt is dissolved. Let cool completely, then stir in the remaining 3 quarts of cold water. Add the chickens, being sure they're completely submerged, and refrigerate overnight.

Drain the chicken and pat dry. Scrape off any herbs or peppercorns stuck to the skin.

Place sprigs of thyme, rosemary and parsley and a lemon chopped into four into the inside of the cavity of the chicken and season generously with salt and pepper.

Gently ease the skin off the breast, taking care not to tear the skin. Take the boursin and stuff it underneath the skin making sure to push the boursin as far as it will go (towards the back of the chicken).

Season the top of the skin as well and rub the skin with a small amount of butter.

Place in a 450 degree oven (220C) . After 20 minutes if the skin is browning too quickly. Place a sheet of aluminium foil over the top of the breast meat to protect it. After 40 minutes, check the temperature of the bird by inserting an instant read thermometer between the leg and the thigh : the temperature should read 155 F (68C). The chicken will continue to cook as it sits, reaching a temperature of 165F (74C) .

Serve with whatever you want! Roast vegetables, a crisp green salad

or whatever takes your fancy.

Happy eating!" 

Rudy

Here are some more ideas for roasting chicken from Southern Fried French.

 

In the COMMENTS: Paula, the Hotel California is right. It lives on in memory. Julie I hope you do get back soon to check out that ebb and flow. Suzanne, Savanna is great but you really must get to Charleston! Bonnie, only the French would have such a road sign. Yours sounds like a proper transhumance. Monty and Ali, we miss you!

 

Favorite READS: You really must check out My Paris market Cookbook. Our reader and honorary book critic Natalia recommends it. It looks divine! 

 

FRANCOPHILE ALERT: Did you know that our loyal reader Bonnie has an Etsy site, with great  french finds from her home in Provence? It’s called ChateauNo5 and you can visit it here.

 

Also, many of you follow the Small Village in France Blog. Here you can buy beautiful silk scarves and watercolors by artist Tom Vieth. I’m the proud owner of several of their torchons, or  dish towels

 

 

Memories of a French Country Road

I recently read The Only Street in Paris, which is a memoir of life on one street. A whole book about one street!

Which got me thinking about the street in our former village of La Vineuse, where we lived for 13 years. (we moved to Beaune 2 years ago).

Such memories of that village road! Maybe not book-worthy, but for a tiny rural rue in "centre village" (our village had 20-ish houses, a church and a one-room schoolhouse), I certainly have some wonderful souvenirs, that lovely word for memories or remembrance in French. The road was a carrrefour, or crossroad, where 2 rural roads came together, and it was a delicious little slice of French life.

Let me set the stage for you: The village was high on the crest of a hill, with houses and gardens falling off to either side. In the center, across from our house and barn (above), was a sort of island with a phone booth and a cherry tree; and beyond that, the romanesque church. Two roads crossed there, And a third was a tiny impasse (a dead end lane) that split off in front of house and barn. Lunching on our galerie, we could see up to hill to the road and the heart of the village.

Looking up to the road, from our galerie

The last remaining phone booth in France?

 

Here were some common sights on our road, all photos taken within a hundred yards of our house:

--Traffic. At 7 am and 7 pm, coinciding with the church bells, the two farmers in town passed by with their big tractors, one new and a bright green, the other a  vintage red one. Other than that, mostly the cars of the locals occasionally passed by.

 

--Horseback riders, in groups of 4 or 5, out for a saunter.

Riders pass by our gate

--Pompiers, on national veterans holidays, proudly parading to honor the war dead.

 

--Cows. When they moved the cows from one field to another, they often drove them through town. I was once startled by a couple of them who nearly ran me down as I was coming out of my gate.

--Car rallies passed often. Beautiful vintage cars, one after the other, passing through town on a group Sunday drive.  

 

Packs of neighbors, who pass each other on the crest of the hill on their walks, and cluster together like birds, for a good gossip.

--The floats that the villagers made annually for the charity drive.

 

--Hikers, hearty and sportive, and always swinging their Nordic walking poles.

--At least once a day, a UPS or Amazon truck, at a dead stop on the crest, the driver desperately seeking directions. There were no street names or numbers in the village, or in the surrounding hamlets.

--A mini transhumance: herds of sheep being moved on their annual journey up the hill.

 

--Weddings. Bridal parties would walk together from the mayor's office, where they signed the official papers, to the church for the ceremonly. Oh the fancy hats and frocks we saw!

A wedding limo, all gussied up

 

I have lovely memories of the cherry tree  just outside our gate,and my visiting grandchildren heading out several times a day to gorge themselves on fresh cherries.Then there was the goodbye party for the phone booth, when they hauled it away. With our neighbors, we set up a "café" on its former site on the island in the middle of the intersection, and drank wine until the moon rose. I will always remember fondly the worn path between our house and our beloved nextdoor neighbors' house, which I  usually walked at least a couple of times a day.

Overhanging our litte impasse, the laden cherry tree

 

The new La Vineuse "café", where the phone booth used to be

 Unlike the street in the Paris book, it wasn't a busy road packed with shopkeepers and apartments and lots of action. But it was a road of souvenirs just the same, and that road will travel with me always.

 

Au revoir to our beloved La Vineuse

 

In the COMMENTS: Susan, those are some spoiled chickens! Ian, that lasagne idea, which I want to try, is worthy of starting from scratch. Anne, I would be happy to be in the company of any good Cajun cook. Lee, I love the pickle juice idea. Colleen, wishing you bonne santé. Julie, we are all crossing our fingers that you can get back to France, it's been too long. Natalia, do look for that cookbook--I think the Germans make wonderful salads. And do check out Martin's Austrian recipe. By the way, we were in a very off-the-beaten path rural French bistro last week, and ran right into our loyal reader  and frequent commenter  Martin, and his wife Helen, from England. Comme le monde est petit! It was a great pleasure to see you both.

Favorite READS: I have an interesting read for you this week!! Gervais Hagerty, who grew up in Charleston, has written a novel about the city, In Polite Company. It's an inside look at the blueblooded society that hangs out at the yacht club and dances at the Cotillion balls--and she is both loving and critical at the same time, of this privileged group. It's a great and fun read, if you have any connection to this beautiful historic city, or would like to. Or if you're just looking for a good book!

 

 

 

 

The French Adaptive Re-use Cook-off

One of the many things I've learned from the French is that recycling is next to godliness. The French are absolutely recycle-crazy; they never throw anything away, especially when they can press it into service elsewhere. My Dutch neighbor and I decided to do them one better.

My neighbor Marion has the famous Dutch thrifty gene, and she will renovate/repurpose anything that doesn’t move. AND she’s married to a Frenchman.  So when she was helping me clear up after a large summer party for which I had over-enthusiastically made a mountain of potato salad, she said, “I’ll take some of that leftover salad home and make dinner for you tomorrow night.  I’m going to experiment with it.”

I was puzzled. “What can you make out of cold potato salad?” I asked, warily.

“We’ll see,” was all she said.

So she made off with the salad and a couple of sausages left over from our barbeque.  And what did she do with that potato salad?

She baked it in a pie!

When we arrived for dinner, there was her impressive creation, warm from the oven.  She  had added a couple of beaten eggs, and chopped up the sausage, and she threw in some  shredded gruyère.  With a salad, it made a nice dinner, we called it a tarte aux pommes de terre,  and it  somewhat resembled a classic Spanish omelette.

In the course of dinner, Ron awarded her the Creative Adaptive Re-use Award.  But try as we might, we could only finish half of it.  

Then Marion issued the challenge: it was time for a cook-off.  “You take half, and I’ll take half,” she announced, “and we’ll see what we can do with leftover baked potato salad pie.” We wisely decided to make side dishes,  as a main course seemed unattainable at this point.

And so the battle was on. I went for a soup. I took my half home and  added  some sriracha sauce, and thinned it with light cream and some nice Chardonnay. I threw in some fresh tarragon. Then I hit it with the immersion blender.

To my surprise, it was quite tasty, even better than the tarte, if you could sort of forget about all of  its former lives. 

But once again, Marion got the creativity prize. She pureed the tarte and made it into a (savory) sorbet!  

Now I will have to say that  potato salad pie sorbet is an acquired taste.  Still, I like to think that the frugal French would be proud of us. And our recyling game is the ultimate tribute to avoiding food waste.

So here is the favorite potato salad recipe that started it all, one that has endured chez nous for a good 30 years. Use it as a starting point, and the rest is up to you.

 

RECIPE: The Queen of Potato Salads

I clipped this recipe from the dearly departed Gourmet Magazine a few decades ago. Tossing the warm potatos in vinegar is the key.  I have tweaked it over the years (most importantly adding a soupçon of good, grainy, moutarde de Dijon), and it is the only potato salad I ever make. 

• 2 lb. (1 kilo) boiling potatoes
• several tablespoons cider vinegar
• 1 teaspoon salt
• 3/4 cup chopped celery
• 3 boiled eggs, chopped
• 1/2 cup chopped white onion, red onion, or chopped scallions (bulbs and tops)
• 3/4 mayonnaise, mixed with salt and pepper and a generous teaspoon of grainy Dijon mustard (or more to taste)

Cover potatoes with salted cold water by 2 inches in a 3-quart saucepan and simmer uncovered until just tender. They should be  just done through to the   middle when pierced with a fork. Start checking them individually at 10 minutes and remove to a colander as they get done. Cool slightly.

 

When potatoes are just cool enough to handle, put a splash of vinegar—about a tablespoon-- and a pinch of salt into a small bowl and stir to dissolve salt. Peel and cut a couple of potatoes into 1-inch pieces and add them to the vinegar mixture, tossing gently with a rubber spatula (they will absorb all the vinegar) then remove to a larger bowl. Add more vinegar and salt and repeat process until all are peeled. Let cool to room temperature, then add remaining ingredients plus additional ground black pepper and stir gently to combine. Taste to correct seasoning and serve chilled.

 

In the COMMENTS: Looks like I have some company in my new-found mocktail habit. "A gin and tonic, hold the gin"--I'm going to steal your line, John!

Colleen, wishing you good health and a full recovery. And many thanks to all who send your good wishes about my long Covid, that was so kind. I'm doing well now, thank you (with only the occasional relapse), but for 8 months or so it was up and down and could get quite bad. And I was in great health, pre-covid--yet another reason to GET THE VACCINE! 

Favorite READS: For those of you who love Martin Walker's French "Bruno  Chief of Police" series as we do, he has a new book out, called The Coldest Case. And a friend recommends a new cookbook, French Comfort Food.

 

Sober in Wine World? Oh la la!

In Beaune, life is all about wine. Activities, conversation, the seasons, fétes, they all seem to revolve around wine growing, tasting, drinking. 

We moved here for reasons other than wine--we are not amateurs de vin, (wine hobbyists), though we love a good glass, and learning all about the art and science of wine production is great fun. But I've had a bout of long Covid, and though it's mostly better, I've had to give up drinking indefinitely (it's as bad as being a French vegetarian). So until I can tolerate alcohol again, I've entered into the world of Mocktails. 

Which has made my unintended sobriety quite a bit more interesting. At happy hour, Ron has his glass of wine, and I get something special too. Mocktails are definitely trending! And if you're lucky enough to be sipping your wine in the evening, then try these mocktails for breakfast or lunch. They are any-time summer drinks, and you can have a second one and still drive home safely. 

My main go-to mocktail is easy: good tonic (Fever Tree is a nice gourmet brand), over ice with lime. Here are a few more I've tried, plus a couple from my sister Peggy, stateside. And we would be negligent not to include a French one, so we offer a take on the classic French 75.

By the way, for Mocktails, keep some simple syrup handy. It IS simple. Just mix equal parts sugar and boiling water, and stir until the sugar is well dissolved. Store in the fridge. You can steep your favorite things in it: vanilla bean, cinnamon sticks, jalapeño slices, ginger, etc., to flavor it. I just bought some zero proof rum flavored syrup after having it in a delicious mocktail at one of the famed chef George Blanc's bistros (see recipe below).

(An American aside: my sister  told me about the wonderful zero proof spirits called Ritual Alternatives, made from herbs, aromatics, spices and fruits, with zero calories, that taste almost good enough to sip. Can't get them here, but can't wait to try them in the states. With these you can make an approximation of most any cocktail. I'm thinking whiskey sours with our Sunday brunch).

So get yourself some pretty straws, some fresh fruit for garnishing, and get out your best glasses to make your mocktails into a true happy hour treat. Santé to all, whatever your preferred spirits!

 

RECIPE: Watermelon Nojitos

Pictured above. Makes 4 drinks.

• 3/4 lb. of chopped watermelon
• 1 lime, sliced, plus slices for garnish if desired.
• 1/4 cup lime juice
• a handful of mint leaves
• 1 cup chilled club soda or Perrier
• simple syrup

Add the watermelon and lime juice to a blender and blend until smooth. Blend in some simple syrup to taste.

Put the lime slices and mint leaves (save a few out for garnish) in a bowl  and muddle them well. Stir in blended mixture. Stir in the  fizzy water, stir, and taste again, adding more sugar syrup if needed. Serve over ice, garnished with mint leaves and lime slices.

Recipe: George Blanc Nojitos

Squeeze half a lime in a glass , and muddle whole mint leaves in a glass with the the lime (put lots of mint). Fill with crushed ice and pour club soda or sparkling water to fill the glass. Add rum-flavored syrup (this will sweeten it) to taste, stirring well. 

 

RECIPE: Frosty Tropical  Fruit "Margueritas"

This one hardly needs a recipe. Chop up some fresh pineapple and throw it in a blender; I cut up a whole pineapple. Add some cream of coconut (I put a small can) and a cup or so of crushed ice, plus a dash of simple syrup, to taste, if you like (or rum syrup). I like to add a half of a banana to give it a creamier texture. Thin it down with the juice of a lime or 2, give it another whirl, and you're done. Makes about 4 drinks.

 

RECIPE: French 75 Mocktail

The classic and potent French 75 cocktail  has gin, champagne, lemon juice, and sugar. This mocktail version is by Alejandra Ramos. Makes 2 drinks.

• 2 cups ice
• 3 ounces fresh lemon juice
• 4 dashes lemon or orange bitters (some bitters have a negligible amount of alcohol, like vanilla extract)
• 2 (6-8oz) bottles premium tonic water 
• one tablesoon of sugar syrup, or to taste
• lemon zest to garnish

Add fresh lemon juice and bitters to cocktail shaker filled with ice. Shake until frosty then divide into two champagne flutes.

Top off with chilled tonic water. Garnish with a wedge of lemon, a strawberry, or a couple of raspberries.

 

RECIPE: Peggy's Pomm Ginger Fizz

Photo from The Spruce Eats

 Makes 2 drinks

• one clementine, or small orange
• splash of pomegranate juice
• splash of homemade ginger juice (see note below) or ginger simple syrup (see above note)
• splash of fresh lime juice
• Pellegrino

In  a shaker, muddle the clementine, add the pomegranate juice, ginger juice, and lime juice,  with ice cubes. Pour into martini glass and add Pellegrino.

About that ginger juice: my sister Peggy says, "It has become a staple in my fridge! Chop up to a large mince size (skin and all) a ginger root the size of your hand. Add a pot full of water and boil for an hour. Let cool and sit a few hours and strain. You can add honey after straining when warm if the spicy flavor is too much [making it into a simple syrup]. I put it in everything—our nightly herbal tea, smoothies, drinks, marinates, salad dressing. Keeps in fridge for a couple of  weeks."

 

RECIPE: Bush Basil Cooler

Photo by Ateriet

Icey cold and great when you're hot and thirsty! Bush basil is the dwarf, milder variety of basil with small leaves. This makes two drinks.

• 6 sprigs of bush basil, plus a bit more for garnish
• 6 slices of cucumber, and 2 more for garnish
• 2 slices of lime, plus 2 slices for garnish
• 1 shot fresh lime juice
• 4 shots water
• 6 shots fizzy water (or tonic)

Put the basil, 2 lime slices, and 6 cucumber slices in a cocktail shaker. Muddle until well crushed. Add the lime juice and spring water and some ice cubes . Shake vigorously. Pour into collins glasses, over ice. Add fizzy water and garnish with lime and cucumber slices and basil.

In the COMMENTS: I read every comment with great interest, on Macron and the vaccine. Thank you all for your input. Most of us are of a like mind. I am becoming increasingly angry with those who refuse to get vaccinated, which punishes and endangers the rest of us. Laura, exceptions must certainly be made for those with medical reasons for not getting the vaccine. Otherwise I am a believer in absolute coercion. Why should others, who are reading false news, denying science, or have decided they are too healthy to get Covid, have the right to put the rest of our lives in danger, when the vaccine has been clearly proven to be so safe and effective? We could have conquered this vaccine ages ago, if everyone did their civic and humanitarian duty. Okay, that’s my rant for the day, but I think I’m not alone in my frustration.

Favorite European GIFTS: our friends over at European Market (European gifts, curated for Americans) have some new city maps I'm coveting, for major European cities. They are combination compact tour guide and laminated map, because it's just too hard to cruise around just looking at a map on a tiny phone screen, and tour books are too heavy to carry. Perfect solution!

 

The Magical Mr. Macron

The way to win a French person over--through their stomach?

Are you familiar with the French president? Probably so, but if not, let me introduce you, because he is quite a character, with an interesting backstory. And he did something last week which I consider to be amazingly courageous.

Not everyone is a fan of course, but we are big admirers. He is handsome, elegant, articulate, the youngest President in French history, and sly as a fox. His English is excellent. One journalist who spent a week with him for an article, said, “He could charm a chair.” After all, he did seduce his high school teacher when he was 15 years old, who was 24 years his senior, and who eventually left her husband to marry him. He and Brigitte have been married 14 years, and by all reports he is a good step-father to her three children (who are sort of his age). He founded his own centrist political party En Marche (roughly, “on the move”, or “let’s get working”).

The happy first couple

So about that courageous act. The Delta variant is hitting us all hard again, but no western world leader has, as far as I know, definitively required the population to get the vaccine. In France, there plenty of anti-vaxxers, mostly not duped by conspiracies like in the States, but instead they are more often  holistic types who worry about the health effects of Covid vaccines (but not Covid, the disease! Go figure).  

So the Prez took a different tact.You don’t have to get the vaccine, he said, but he decreed that  if you want to go to a bar or a restaurant or a concert or a movie, it’s required. Or to get on a bus, plane, or train, or to visit any cultural attraction. And the French, as you might imagine, are quite attached to their restos and cafés, not to mention their trains and leisure activities.

Here’s the joke circulating in France on Twitter. Two Frenchmen talking:

 

—You getting the vaccine?

—No way.

 

—You could die.

—I don’t give a $*#*!

 

—You can’t go to a restaurant.

—Right arm or left?

 

Macron revealed his new program in a televised speech. There is one central site in France to book vaccines, and appointments had been waning; But before his speech was over they were booking 20,000 appointments a MINUTE, briefly overwhelming the site. The next day, they set a record: a million appointments in one day.

The French often surprise me with their cleverness. This is one of those times. World leaders, take note! Maybe you can't require the vaccine, but you can sure make it uncomfortable not to get it.

 

In the COMMENTS:Debbie, there could be no more beautiful place for a passeggiata than St Jean. Unless it’s the romantic Verona, Michaela, where we’ve done a bit of strolling too. Natalia, hope you can keep up your flaneur-ing. Marilyn needs a Dijon hotel recommendation and activities, does anyone have some to share?

Favorite READS: My friend Athlyn loaned me her copy of The Only Street in Paris, Life on the Rue des Martyrs, by Elaine Sciolino, about one woman's life in the heart. Warning: Do not read unless you're planning a trip to Paris, or you may have to jump on a plane.

 

 

 

Meander the French (or Italian) Way

I’ve never really had to watch my weight, but during le confinement I put on a couple or five pounds--maybe one or two of you have joined me--and have had to resort to The Diet. I’m following the recommendations of Harvard researcher Dr. David Ludwig, in his book called Always Hungry? (because that’s me). 

I share this only because I learned a lovely new Italian word from his book. As part of the diet, he suggests following the Italian custom of the passeggiata, after a big meal.

I am very familiear with this Italian custom, though I didn’t know there was a word for it. After dinner the Italians get out  their finery, slip on their elegant Italian leather loafers or pumps, and take a twilight stroll through the piazzetta del villaggio, the village square. They stop to chat with neighbors, maybe take an espresso or a digestif. In addition to strutting your stuff, the passeggiata is good for the digestion, and the figure.

The passeggiata corresponds somewhat to one of my favorite French words,  flâner. Flâner is to stroll along the boulevards, dapper and chic, wandering aimlessly, observing, and savoring the day. 

A stylish flâneur in the making

The Europeans in general are big walkers. Not power walkers, but flâneurs. Take a drive through the French countryside on any Sunday afternoon especially and you will see multi-generational groups, strolling along together on village or country roads.

Ron and I have been doing our evening post-dinner passeggiatas, which have been full of  unexpected  pleasures. One evening this week we heard beautiful live jazz music wafting out into the twilight, along an otherwise quiet residential street—but where was it coming from ? We followed it through a large courtyard (trespassing, most likely), around the corner to a narrow alley  with an open second floor window, where obviously a practice session was going on. A couple of fellow flâneurs  had done the same. When the music stopped we all applauded, and monsieur leaned out the window, saxaphone in hand, his face full of surprise. "Prenez une chaise!" he said. Pull up a chair!

A stroll in Annecy

 So especially since the beautiful summer weather is emerging, and maybe especially to address those pandemic pounds, take a little meander after dinner and see what you might discover.

 

In the COMMENTS: Debby, I really hope you get back to the Côte d’Azur soon. Thanks to gardeners Bonnie, Aryn, and Marcia for identifying that gorgeous vine as thunbergia grandiflora. (There were other guesses, but we shall let the majority rule).  Natalia, your comments are kind as always, and merci to Kristi for introducing us, as well as so many other of my readers. I agree about her book, The Lost Gardens.  Ellen, that fisherman made the jump! Bev, we hope to see you stateside too. Francine, malheureusement on vas partir mi-septembre. Une autre fois! Et bien sûr, Eze est formidable. Kathie, I’m dying to go to St. Lucia, please send a report if (when!) you get there. Sandy (who “roams in retirement , full time, which is also the title of her blog), have fun in Montpellier, and in all your travels. Virginia, sure hope to see you in Provence, if we can get down there. Bon voyage soon. Tom, that’s quite a roadtrip, and I love the idea of the lavendar with the cherry jam. Frank, hope to meet you in Beaune, bon voyage.

Favorite VIEWS: Want to drool over some beautiful artwork today? First up, my friend Julie Messerschmidt is an exceptionally talented artist, an American who lives here in Burgundy. She does classic still lifes with an old world feel but often with contemporary themes. See, for example, her still life of "Oysters and Bud", or of southern biscuits in the making, which you can check out at her website, here. And who could resist the French cheeses below?

 

And a Francophile Alert: our loyal reader the artist Gail Wendorf  has a whole collection of gorgeous French landscapes, village, and market scenes, like the one below, that will make you long for France.  You can visit her on-line gallery here.

 

Things are Looking Up, Down South

There is sunlight at the end of this tunnel

 Free at last! We are out of confinement (except for an 11 pm curfew--no problem for us!). In France,  virus numbers are way down, vaccines are way up. In the US, even masks have gone away. So what are you doing to celebrate the new normal?

It’s been a long year and a half. For us, it's meant dealing with Covid and Long Covid. For many, it has been much worse. We feel fortunate to be getting back to normal. Tragically that’s not true for  people in many other countries, and it may come back to bite all of us. But for now, carpe diem is the order of the day.

We are celebrating with the a trip to the Mediterranean, a trip we've canceled four times now, due to lockdown, illness etc. So here we are in paradise, counting our blessings.

How wonderful to see families with little kids playing joyously on the beach, unfettered by masks and pandemic worries. But the thing that has touched my soul the most here has been the flowers. Madly colorful and exuberant, there are walls and arbors  and gates covered with them, in lush abundance. To me they are reminders that in life there is renewal, and beauty, that the dangerous air we've been trying not to breath can also be filled with perfume.

Do you cringe when people bring out a stack of their vacation photos? In that case, you should move on quickly. But, fellow francophiles, if you’d like a little French travel porn to perk you up, stick around for the show below. And please share what you are doing to emerge, like those slumbering cicadas, from your pandemic cocoon!

 

We are in the village of St. Jean on Cap Ferrat, near Nice:

 

An arch of jasmine, with an overwhelming fragrance

 

A wall of bougainvillea

 

A bird of Paradise flies  high at our rental house

 

In St Jean, many of the houses are decorated with flowers, painted under the eaves

 

A view of Beaulieu, from the Promenade between St. Jean and Beaulieu.

 

 

 

 

My favorite mansion, in St Jean

 

 

 

A view from the coastal walk around the Cap

 

A family enjoys their new freedom

 

Fabulous fleurs. I don't know what this mystery vine is. A type of potato vine?

 

An entry gate, smothered in blooms

 

A park by the sea in St Jean

 

Even the fishing boats are colorful

 

Here and below, the nearby town of Villefranche-sur-Mer

 

In nearby La Turbie, the ruins of a Roman "trophy", and a view of Monaco from the park

 

The giant "Tromette des Anges", Trumpet of the Angels (Datura)

 

The gardens of the Villa Ephrussi de Rothschild, on Cap Ferrat

In the COMMENTS: Frank, I absolutely loved your gardening story. Aryn, that's a good list to start, and perennials do well here, but camelias don't usually. The cold gets them. Virginia, hope you can get here soon, it's been too long. Peggy, you're the one with the beautiful garden these days. Francine, I know those flowers in Annecy, they are over the top!

Favorite Reads: Has everyone read Kristin Espinasse's latest book, The Lost Gardens? It's a memoir, written by Krisi and her husband Jean-Marc. Even if you've been reading her blog, French Word-A -Day, for years, the memoir is new and fresh and done in her inimitable style--and who knew Jean Marc was a beautiful writer too? Natalia recommends The Paris Apartment,  by Kelly Bowen, about an apartment that holds its own secrets.

 

A Sneak Peek at Peak Season

From time to time I post a French "flower show". I can't resist the way the French plant flowers with abandon, in a mélange of happy colors. Here are some photos I've collected, some bouquets to cheer you and all in settings that can only be French. I hope they lift your spirits. 

 

Flower boxes hang from our friends' balcony in the Alps.

 

A sort of window box gone wild, in Arnay-le-Duc.

 

A villa on the Mediterranean coast that lives up to its name.

 

The French often smother their charming old bridges with flowers. This one is in  Alsace.

 

This is the parterre garden at the Château de Cormatin, near Cluny.

 

My friend Ellen is an artist and designer, and the arrangements from her garden are artful as well.

 

In a park near our house in Beaune.

 

Hydrangeas do beautifully in our area.

 

A public planting in Beaune.

And another exuberant public planting, in Alsace.

 

Provence doesn't have the corner on lavender. It grows well in Burgundy, too. This photo is from our own former garden  near Cluny.

I love that the French can make a garden out of the smallest of spaces.

 

Old wine barrels in Burgundy are often pressed into service as pots.

 

Forget-me-nots peek from a stone wall with careless gaiety...

... but the French can do formal, as well

A happy blooming summer to all!

 

In the COMMENTS: Paula has cooking tips about garlic for us, and so does Jane but she uses a different technique. Jane, I wonder if the salt might take the “sting” out of the garlic for those who can’t normally eat it. Page adds sun-dried tomatoes to her spinach or broccoli soufflé, a brilliant idea, for a little tang and another layer of flavor. 

Favorite READS: Natalia, our book critic in residence, is hard to keep up with. You must be a fast reader, Natalia! Happily she has two new ones for us: The Blue Star and Lost Girls of Paris, both by Pam Jenoff. And in my French class, we are re-reading and analyzing Le Petit Prince, that blockbuster French classic that is both children’s book and a metaphorical tale, referencing the evils of Nazi Germany, for adults. A book you probably read in high school, as I did. If you’d like to read it in English, try this lovely  version on youtube, read by the actors Kenneth Branagh and Owen Evans, with animated illustrations of Antoine Saint-Exupery’s charming drawings.