Southern Fried French

A Southern Chef Makes a French Tart

Bob Waggoner is one of Charleston's most fabled and beloved chefs. Trained in Paris and married to a French woman, he cooked up French specialties at the elegant Charleston Grill for many years, until he started his own Charleston cooking school. In the Kitchen with Bob Waggoner is a night of cooking, eating, and imbibing in the French way, at his atelier in the historic district. My sweet husband treated me to a class for my birthday, while we were back in Charleston.

We donned aprons and sipped white Burgundies while we prepared our feast: scallops over a bed of vegetables in a ginger infused broth to start, and roasted beef tenderloin on veggies with a veal sauce for le plat.

Les sous-chefs. Translation of Ron's apron: I'm taking care of the wine!

One good cooking tip I picked up: he always keeps an overflowing pot of stock on the stove, which he cooks for hours, even overnight if it's veal or beef. In French, stock is called the fond de cuisine, the foundation of cooking. So you are always ready to dip in, for a rich sauce or broth.  He had stuffed his stock pot with meaty bones, plus aromatics and vegetables added in later. The important part, which I had never heard, is to keep as much fat out of your stock as possible, right from the beginning.  And don't let it boil---a low simmer is good, and his pot was so low there was barely a bubble.

But the recipe I will return to often was the pear tart we had for dessert. Because it was seasonal and delicious, but also because it took all of five minutes to make, which as you know is my favorite sort of recipe, especially for entertaining. 

My photo, above, is not lovely because it was impossible to not jump right in and sample it. So go for it--fast and French is the very best way of cooking!

 

RECIPE: Bob Waggoners's Pear Tart with Pecans and Honey

Another, more patient, attendee got a better photo (photo credit)

These can cook while you're eating dinner.

Heat oven to 375. Thaw a sheet of frozen puff pastry, roll it out lightly, and cut it into single-portion sized rectangles. Core one pear for each rectangle, and slice thinly. Shingle the pears on top of the pastry. Bake for 15-20 minutes, until golden. 

Coarsely chop some pecans, about a tablespoon per serving. Toast them lightly in the oven (Bob says always toast your nuts, until they release their aroma--it makes them more flavorful. He makes batches ahead so he always has some on hand). In a small saucepan, mix them with honey to cover, plus a bit more, along with a pat of butter. Heat just until warm. Spoon the warm topping over the warm tarts and serve with vanilla ice cream. (By the way I'm also going to try this with maple syrup instead of honey, or maybe half of each, for a more caramel-y taste).

IF YOU GO: Book well ahead--as in a few months ahead. Prepare to meet some interesting people (we were 16), as well as to be charmed by your exuberant chef. The link is here.

 

Favorite READS: Karim,  I’m so glad you enjoy the blog. Musso is quite popular but I agree that he is no literary giant. Can you recommend some  books in French for us, that might be simple to read, but interesting? Or maybe other readers have recommendations, for those of us who can read in French, but slowly!

A New Way to See the French Countryside

If you travel to France to experience the French countryside, you may be missing the best activity you don't read about in the guidebooks : The Sunday Village Randonnée.

Randonnée in French means a hike. The "Grand Randonnées" in France are marked French hiking trails, sometimes hundreds of kilometers long. For the serious hiker who owns hiking boots, a backpack, nordic walking poles, and an outback hat.

That would not be me. If you are a fellow casual walker, as I am, and you're in France with a Sunday morning free, then the Village Randonnée is just the ticket. Depending on the village, they may be set up for bikes and/or horseback riders as well.

Riders get ready for a randonnée in La Vineuse

Many villages and hobby or charity organizations hold these events annually, most often on Sunday mornings, so let me walk you through the one we had in our former village of La Vineuse each year, planned by the village social committee, of which we were a part.

The posters had gone up, fliers had been distributed for our event. The festivities started at 7 am at the pique nique shelter at our school/mayor's office. We set up a coffee station, trays of croissants and pain au chocolat. As our visitors arrived, they paid a small fee and were given maps of the three marked trails (a choice of one, two, or three hour walks) to pour over, while we poured the coffee.  

The serious hikers arrived first, booted up and bursting with energy despite the early hour. This was the 3-hour crowd. 

Throughout the morning and afternoon, the more casual flâneurs drifted in, dressed in t-shirts and les baskets (tennis shoes). They came in pairs, with packs of friends, or in multi-generational family groups. We set them off in convivial herds. Couples pushing strollers, hiking clubs, college kids in lycra, seniors out for a spin, they were all there. There was laughter and camaraderie as they headed off down the hill.

A view from the randonnée course in our village

Mid-morning we did our next set-up, for the finishers who were starting to trickle in (except for the 3-hour crowd, who did not trickle, but strode in energetically as if they might take in a couple of aerobic classes and some weight-lifting in the afternoon). There was wine of course, to celebrate; plus trays of cheese and saussison, and cookies. The visitors lingered to discuss their walks and share a glass.

We've done other village randonnées, and they are great fun. There's a party atmosphere as you chat with other groups along the way. We've passed through hamlets, along farm paths, by beautiful country houses and gardens, by lakes and ponds, and there is usually a château or a church along the way, hidden deep in the countryside. If there is a better way to experience la France profonde, I don't know what it is!

If you can't find a randonnée fête, these signs help you go it on your own.

IF YOU GO: If you can’t catch a planned randonnée on a week-end, you can go on your own. Most villages have marked walking paths you can take anytime; look for the large maps signposted in a central location in many villages. Or you can download randonnée maps at http://www.france-randos.com (select your language at the top). If you want to participate in a week-end randonnée event, the local tourist office is your best bet, and you will always find them in the digital or print version of the local paper.

 

In the COMMENTS: Ann, I'm hoping the French breakfast is going to help with those pesky hips too! But then again, brioche with cherry jam, Jan, could tempt me in a skinny minute. Julie, at least your dog gets you moving in the morning, they are great for that. And Colleen, isn't that French bread wonderful? They've come a long way since it was only baguettes.

Favorite READS: Our favorite book critic Natalia checks in with some great new reads. I'm always looking for books in French that are not overly difficult, and my friend Debbie got me reading Guillaume Musso. By this author, Natalia recommends Skidamarink . She says: odd title, interesting story. Musso is hugely popular in France. To read one of his in English, try his thriller, Central Park. Natalia also recommends Cara Black and her Aimee LeDuc series, mostly set in Paris. And speaking of Paris, my friend Sandi is currently immersing herself in books about the city, and she says, "Your readers will LOVE A Paris All Your Own, by Eleanor Brown. She also recommends Paris Street Tales and Paris Was Ours: Thirty-two Writers Reflect on the City of Light.

 

 

Is Breakfast the Secret to the Skinny French?

There is the famous Full English Breakfast, with eggs, beans, sausages, tomatos, mushrooms, and toast (below). There is the American breakfast: bacon and eggs, maybe some Cheerios or corn flakes or pancakes. And of course there is the uniquely American tradition of brunch. Then there is: le petit déjeuner. It’s no surprise that breakfast is different in France. Does it perhaps have something to do with why the French are thin?

The English are not as thin as the French...(photo courtesy of i am a food blog)

In France, there is no grabbing a bowl of cereal while standing at the kitchen sink. I once quizzed the Lyon Ladies (Nicole’s big group of French friends from Lyon who lunch together periodically) about le petit déjeuner. “Breakfast is an essential meal, like any other,” they told me. “It’s important to sit down for half an hour, to relax, to start the day in a stress-free manner”. On this they all emphatically agreed. Eating slow and easy: good for the body, the mind, and the diet.

And what do they eat? Mostly unsweetened yogurt, and perhaps a breakfast tartine: a baguette spread with jam or butter, or topped with a slice of gruyère.  Though these days, a pain aux céréales, a whole-grain loaf, may take the place of the baguette. The offerings at le bougangerie are likely to look like the lavish spread pictured at the top.

Breakfast is taken with an espresso of course, and maybe un jus d’orange.  This sort of light breakfast has spread across Europe, hence the English term, “continental breakfast”.

le petit déjeuner

What the French do not have is a tradition of going out for a big breakfast at a restaurant. If you want breakfast while traveling, you pop into a café, where they will offer a tartine or a croissant, served with an espresso and orange juice (though for the chic and trendy French, especially the Parisians, American style brunches are popping up). 

So now when you travel to Europe, you can order breakfast like a pro. And in the French fashion, be sure it’s leisurely!

 

RECIPE: A different sort of Breakfast

I was at my sister’s house recently, and for breakfast she pulled out a big plate of some delicious looking baked pears with pecans. “I keep some of these in the fridge all the time”, she said. “They make a great breakfast.”

Nutty, caramely baked pears for breakfast? I’m in! I made a batch right away, but I used apples instead, because that’s what I had on hand, though the pears were even better. I added oats and raisins to the filling, to make them even more  breakfast-y, and I used just a small amount of maple syrup—honey would work as well— to caramelize them. They take just a few minutes to make, and then you’ve got a fabulous breakfast to look forward to, all week.

No recipe needed really. Here’s what I did, with my sister's advice: I cored the apples and cut them in half, and brushed them with maple syrup (or use honey). Then I put a handful of chopped pecans in a bowl with another handful of regular oatmeal. Raisins are a nice addition too. I added plenty of cinnamon (pumpkin pie spice, if you prefer), and just enough maple syrup to hold it all together. Add a sprinkle of cinnamond and bake them until they are as soft as you like; mine took 45 minutes, but pears might be quicker. We preferred them chilled, but zap them in the microwave if you wish.

This is a healthier version of the traditional baked apples, which are loaded with butter and sugar and are typically slathered with whipped cream or ice cream. Instead, fruit, nuts oats, minimal sugar— a breakfast fit even for the French! 

 

For other breakfast recipes, a bit more decadent, check out this post on cinnamon biscuits,  this post on baked eggs, or this post on morning buns.

In the COMMENTS: Your comments on Emily were most entertaining! I think y’all are equally split on loving or hating this “candy-coated romp”, as Jan calls it.  I think my friend Nancy got it right—she alternates between watching “Emily in Paris” and “I Am A Killer”. Cuts the sweetness a bit. And Susan V., I’m with you in that the little digs at the French AND the Americans keep us amused. Meanwhile, Francine and Jan mentioned some good French Netflix alternatives, which I’ve listed below.

Favorite READS & VIEWS : A friend has given me a copy of Suite Francaise, which I'm looking forward to reading. For French or French-themed shows on Netflix, our readers recommend Lupin, Call My Agent! (Dix pour cent in French), Balthazar (violent) and Paul Hollywood's Big Continental Road Trip. One more for you: We are really enjoying the charming French crime series Candice Renoir, about a single mom of 4 who is a detective. Find it on Acorn TV, where you can find lots of British and French shows.

 

 

Much Ado about Emily

We’ve weighed in before on Emily in Paris (you can read my original season 1 letter to Emily here), but she is causing such a stir again, it must be time to take another look. Season 3 of the show that people love to hate but watch anyway has arrived. So, fellow Francophiles, what do you think?

Is it a great show or what? True, it does depict Paris as a sort of perfect fairy tale kingdom. And yes, Emily SHOULD be speaking French by now. Bien sûr, it tosses around every French stereotype and cliché that ever existed, some true and some awful. For sure it makes American expats look bad. And no, if you worked in Paris at an entry level marketing job, you could NOT afford clothes like Emily’s. Unless, like Emily, you could conquer complex French luxury branding in little puffs of instant inspiration, without even speaking the language.

Emily's candy-colored, Disney-fied, Paris

 My take is, it’s all much ado about nothing. The show is a silly, sugary bit of Franco-American fluff that, for all its faults, is great fun to watch. I do have great sympathy, however, for Parisian residents who’ve had their favorite haunts overrun by the new Emily tourist crowds, desperate to replicate some of her experiences.

But let’s talk about those clothes! Even my husband, who has zero interest in fashion, tunes in for the fashion parade alone. A zebra get-up with giant wings! A hot pink confection that seems to be raining flowers!  Plunging black cut-out dresses that seem to be held together by air and a prayer! And that’s before we get to the French scenery porn. It’s a French feast for the eyeballs.

Below: Emily as a flying zebra, frothy in feathers, wrapped in ruffles, and bow-tied. Plus Mindy and Camille, in the (very) Little Black Dress.

 

My favorite deliciously cynical take on the show comes from sassy French academic Arthur Asseraf, a Parisian who watches while doing a live twitter feed commentary—“I suffer so you don’t have to,” he quips. He settles down to watch the show with this tweet:  “I’ve poured myself two glasses: one is full of wine and the other is full of righteous judgment, and I’m double-fisting hard.”

He also proposes an Emily drinking game: every time there is a gratuitous shot of the Eiffel tower or a person wearing a béret, you take a sip. Having tried it ourselves, we can tell you that you are going to need a very large glass of wine. His favorite scene is a double hit, a shot of the Eiffel tower with a guy walking by in a béret. “Take two sips and kiss your dog!”, says Arthur exuberantly.

Drink up! Emily sports a béret.

So how about you, dear readers? Is Emily your favorite show, or is it your French nightmare? Or maybe a little of both? 

 

In the COMMENTS: Natalia, a French teacher once told me that the subjonctif tense is going away slowly because the young people don't use it. Problem solved, I'm declaring myself young! Holly, the cookie cutters came from Amazon, they have every shape you can imagine. Colleen, hope you feel better and best of luck with your new children's book, It's a Rainforest, which we featured in the last post. Chris, looking forward to trying that oatmeal bread. Anne, be sure to send photos of those cookies.

Favorite READS: Next up on my reading list is The Billionaire's Vinegar, which my husband is currently reading, about the most expensive and famous bottle of wine ever made. And while we're on a Paris theme this week: Like Natalia, I've read Ann Mah's Jaqueline in Paris, which she is loving. Chris recommends Paris by the Book, by Liam Callanan, a mystery novel about love and loss. 

 

 

A "Sable" for Every Season

Every Christmas I buy pounds of butter and make mounds of sugar cookies—as I’m sure many of you do—which in France are called sables. The American and French recipes are similar, though the sables I buy in French boulangeries are slightly drier and less sweet than our sugar cookies, and equally delicious.

I love decorating the cookies as a group project—this year with my daughter and sister. We are not pros but we like to get creative. We were pretty proud of our wreaths, below (an idea we stole from Instagram--directions for those are here).

But decorated sugar cookies are not just for Christmas. They can make any occasion festive. I have a variety of cookie cutter shapes which are now overflowing in my cabinet. You can get the letters of the alpabet to spell out a name or phrase; my daughter has a tic-tac-toe set. Any theme is possible. And last year I bought a simple decorating kit for just a few euros, which made it all SO much easier.

So shall we broaden our sable horizon? How about heart shapes for your Valentine this year? For our beloved châtelain Pierre, I made châteaux for his birthday one year (see below). I did French-themed cookies for a party for a friend who was off to France for a month (pictured above). And at a French village flea market we sometimes set up a booth to benefit my cat rescue group, and I made the cookies you will see in the recipe below, to sell at the market.

My secret for making them delicious is to use lemon juice instead of milk for the icing. My daughter likes to add almond extract instead. Sugar cookies can be chocolate too, or other flavors, like the caramel-y castles above.  And while you have to be a bit of an artiste to make the fancy ones like you see on Pinterest, don’t be deterred. My daughter and I didn't get the  painterly gene, but we managed to turn out something respectable. If we can do it, anyone can. It’s like getting in touch with your inner child, no skill required.

My Thanksgiving dessert platter, with turkeys, leaves and pumpkins

I decorated this batch for Christmas in a hurry: no food coloring necessary.

 

RECIPE: Chocolate Sugar Cookies

For regular sugar cookies, I use this recipe from Ina Garten or this one from Sally's Baking Addiction. Or try a French sable recipe like this one.  Most of the recipes are very similar, but this chocolate variation (from Melissa Clark) is different and quite good. I've included three icing recipes as well.

• 2 cups/255 grams all-purpose flour
• ½ cup/40 grams unsweetened Dutch-processed cocoa powder
• ⅛ teaspoon fine sea salt
• 1 cup/225 grams salted butter, preferably European-style butter (2 sticks), softened
• ⅔ cup/135 grams granulated sugar
• 1 large egg yolk

In a medium bowl, whisk together flour, cocoa powder and salt.

In the bowl of an electric mixer, beat together butter and sugar until smooth. Beat in yolk, scraping the sides of the bowl as necessary. Mix in flour mixture until just combined. Form dough into a disk, wrap in plastic wrap and refrigerate for at least 1 hour and up to 3 days.

Once chilled, remove plastic wrap and sandwich dough between two sheets of parchment paper. Roll it out into a 1/3-inch-thick slab. Leaving dough between the parchment, place it on a  plate and refrigerate for 30 minutes (or up to 24 hours).

Heat oven to 325 degrees, and line two cookie sheets with parchment paper, or a Silpat.

Pull dough from refrigerator, and remove parchment from dough. Cut out as many cookies as possible.  Transfer them to the prepared cookie sheets. Reroll the dough scraps and repeat (my tip: if they stick, instead of flouring your hands, the board, or the cutters, use dry cocoa).

Bake cookies for 15 to 22 minutes, until puffed and set, rotating the cookie sheets halfway through. Transfer pans to wire racks to cool completely.

 

For the icing: Use the lemon for regular sugar cookies, and either of the others for the chocolate ones.

Lemon: Mix 3 cups confectioners sugar with 1 tablespoon meringue powder (the powder is optional, but helps the icing set up better). Stir in fresh squeezed lemon juice (it will take several tablespoons) and beat until icing is very smooth. Stir in food coloring. Icing shouldn’t be so thick that it’s hard to stir , and a bit slow to drip, sort of like honey. Almond: As above, but use milk instead of lemon juice and add 1 teaspoon almond extract.

Chocolate: Melt 6 oz  dark or white chocolate. Frost cookies and top with sprinkles or colored sugar.

My Francophile cookie set

Next project: Charleston coastal cookies!

 

Favorite READS: Félicitations to our loyal reader, the artist Colleen Taylor, who has a new book out! It's a Rainforest is a children's book with illustrations by Colleen. Check it out, it's gorgeous!

 

 

Bits of French Wisdom for a Happy New Year

My friend Sandi in Charleston  is a book collector. Her house is full of books, old and new, from floor to ceiling. She's started selling old Charleston and southern themed books on her Etsy site, Charleston Ink and Art, so she is always on the prowl.

So as a gift, she gave me a real find: a little antique tome called "French Wit and Wisdom", stuffed with quotes from famous French authors of another era. The original price is printed on the leaf inside: $1.00 (which speaks to how old it is: 72 years to be exact).

This is perfect since we are in Charleston for Christmas this year, and I won't be able to share the  French quotes from the wrappers of the chocolate papillotes as I usually do (like this former post, and this one).  This little book is actually in English, but as usual I've got some French homework for you--I've posted  the quotes in French,  too, so you can practice. (Exception: no translation for a couple of quotes because I could not locate the original citation in French).

I've picked a sampler for you. Some of the quotes are appropriate and cautionary for our scary world at the moment, and some are just good advice. Inspiration for your new year's resolutions maybe? Joyeux Noel et Bonne anneé to all!

Here are some some wise quotes that seem right on target for our difficult and polarized times: 

Politeness acts as a guard over the rough edges on our character, preventing them from harming others. We should never lay it aside, even in contact with coarse people.—Joubert

La politesse est une sorte d'émoussoir qui enveloppe les aspérités de notre caractère et empêche que les autres n'en soient blessés.

 

In those countries where the morals are the most dissolute, the language is the most severe; as if they would replace on the lips what has deserted the heart—Voltaire

 

A sovereign is called a tyrant who knows no law but his caprice.—Voltaire

On appelle tyrant le souverain qui ne connaît de lois que son caprice.

 

Anyone who can make you believe absurdities can make you commit atrocities.—Voltaire

Ceux qui peuvent vous faire croire à des absurdités peuvent vous faire commettre des atrocités.

 

Religious zeal is a a pure and enlightened attachment to worship of the Divinity and its maintenance and progress; but when it grows blind and false and takes to persecution, it becomes the greatest scourge of humanity.—Voltaire 

 

Prejudice is the reason of fools.—Voltaire

Le préjugé est une opinion sans jugement.

 

Narcissists, like dwarfs, have the stature of a child with the face of a man.—Joubert

Les orgueilleux me semblent avoir, comme les nains, la taille d'un enfant et la contenance d'un homme. 

 

And some life lessons:

 

Jest with Life; that's all it's good for.—Voltaire

Je joue avec la vie, madame; elle n'est bonne qu'à cela. 

 

The more one judges, the less one loves.—Balzac

Plus on juge, moins on aime. 

 

We should wear our velvet next to the skin--that is we should be the most amiable and agreeable to those of our own family.—Joubert

Il faut porter son velours en dedans, c'est-à-dire, montrer son amabilité de préférence à ceux avec qui l'on vit chez soi. 

 

Had we ourselves no faults we should find less pleasure in discovering them in others.—Rochefoucauld

Si nous n'avions pas tant de défauts, nous ne prendrions pas tant de plaisir à en remarquer chez les autres.

 

We never live; we are always in expectation of living.--Voltaire

Nous ne vivons jamais, nous attendons la vie.

 

The most completely lost of all days is the one on which we have not laughed.—Chamfort

La plus perdue de toutes les journées est celle où l'on n'a pas ri. 

 

Merry Christmas and the happiest new year to all!

A Christmas scene, spotted on a village house in Burgundy

P.S. No new recipe today, but I did stumble across a recipe for my Lucky New Year's Pie, which made an appearance in a guest post for Kristin Espinasse's French-Word-A-Day way back in 2010. Some years back we decided to forget the Hoppin' John and make something with Gran Marnier every New Year's day, for some sweet good luck. And so far it's working! Lately I've been making a Gran Marnier soufflé, but this year I'll go back to this Lucky Gran Marnier pie recipe, loved and lost.

 

Favorite READS: I have one more quote from the book for you, from Joubert: "The one drawback of new books is that they prevent our reading old ones."  Le grand inconvénient des livres nouveaux est de nous empêcher de lire les anciens. In that case, why not revisit the ultimate French classic, Le Petit Prince, as I did recently--I hadn't read it since my high school French class. Better yet, read it to your kids or grandkids. or even more fun, you can find Le Petit Prince on youtube, narrated by Kenneth Branaugh, with the simple illustrations in the book brought to life with animation.

 

 

 

An Overnight Pilgrimage

“The sun was coming up. There was a thick mist hanging over the valley, and I could see the treetops piercing through it here and there. Up above, the village stood, like a pyramid reflecting the light. It was a magnificent sight, and it was full of admiration that I made for the Church of St. Madeleine.”—Prosper Mérimée, 1836

 

If you are a any sort of francophile (or of a religious persuasion), you have no doubt heard of the pilgrimage town of Vézelay, in the northwest corner of Burgundy.

As I’ve said before, one of my favorite things about living in France, and in La Bourgogne in particular, is the ability to go to an exciting new area, or even another country, for a week-end trip. We hadn’t been to Vézelay in a couple of decades, so when our dear friends Carol and Bill came to see us, off we went for a brief séjour, pilgrims for a day.

So what’s so special about Vézelay? A lot.

First of all, it’s not every church that (reportedly) has relics of such a famous saint, or that has been around since the 9th century. Pilgrims have been visiting La Basilique Sainte-Marie-Madeleine for 1000 years. It’s now a Unesco World Heritage site. It’s still a common starting point for the pilgrimage to Santiago de Compostela in Spain (if you’re up for a VERY long walk). The town has a long and rich history, as the originating point of crusades, a medieval mecca, and more.

The Basilica, a 12th century Romanesque masterpiece of a monastic cathedral, sits on top of the “Eternal Hill” that is the town. Most of the small village, which is packed with charm, is set along the one main road that leads from the base of the town, steeply, up to the church.

A visit to the inside of the church will surely fill you with awe, then you can descend to the small chapel below ground where the relics are kept. Behind the church is a jaw-dropping view of the lush rolling hills of the Morvan.

Semur-en-Auxois is on the way, so we did a quick pass through and gazed at the town from its perfect viewpoint. We also wandered through nearby Flavigny-sur-Ozerain, which is where the famous movie Chocolat was filmed (Johnny Depp, Juliette Binoche, Judi Dench. We watched it again, to put us in the mood for our trip).

IF YOU GO: In Vézelay we stayed at the very pleasant Hotel de la Poste et du Lion d'or. It was right at the base of the hill so you will have to walk up to the church. It’s mostly a pedestrian road but when we went to dinner we managed to drive up and park behind the church. In the past we’ve stayed a few miles away at a marvelous château, called Chateau d'Island.

If you pass through Semur, don’t miss lunch at Cuisine de la Fontaignotte, farm-fresh food with  a terrace that has a sweeping view of this exceptionally beautiful town.

In Flavigny, we got a very casual lunch on the Place near the church—picnic tables outside, and self-service—at La Grange, billed as a farm-to-table place, and it was quite a fun  pique-nique in the sunshine.

 

Vézelay:

Here is La Basilique de Sainte-Marie-Madeleine

 

Flavigny-sur-Ozerain:

This is the entry gate to the village

 

Lovely architectural details were everywhere

 

Our friend Bill peeps inside the window that was the chocolate shop in the movie Chocolat

 

This was a photo-op in a little square, and the first and last time you will see my husband in drag

 

Semur-en-Auxois:

One of the most beautiful towns in France, with dramatic views all round. You can read my previous post with more photos of Semur here.

 

 

Favorite READS: Speaking of French travels, who doesn't love Provence? Our book expert extraordinaire Natalia recommends An American in Provence by Jamie Beck. On a road trip recently, Ron and I listened to two Peter Mayle audiobooks, French Lessons and Twenty-five Years in Provence. I recommend the audiobooks because the readers, with their posh English accents, deliver the dry British humor with aplomb.

 

Santé et Salut!, with Gratitude

Happy Thanksgiving , y'all! “Thanksgiving is a joyous invitation to shower the world with love and gratitude.” says Amy Leigh Mercree. So let’s take a look at some appropriate toasts and inspirations for the day, from Americans, the French, and beyond, to guide you not just through Thanksgiving, but maybe through life. As Robert Lintner said, "Thanksgiving was never meant to be shut up in a single day.”

“What if today, we were just grateful for everything?”--Charlie Brown

Let’s start off with some toasts/quotes which are very appropriate for these polarized times, when a holiday meal in many families has become a fraught war zone:

 

“May the roof above you never fall in, and those gathered beneath it never fall out. Here's to health, peace, and prosperity.”—Irish blessing

 

Author Nora Ephron offers us a bit of hope:

“The turkey. the sweet potatoes. The stuffing. the pumpkin pie. Is there anything else we all can agree so vehemently about? I don’t think so.”

 

And a few more:

“If there’s one thing I’ve learned over the eons, it’s that you can’t give up on your family, no matter how tempting they make it.”—Rick Riordan

 

"Thanksgiving day is in the same month as election day so that we can drown our sorrows in gravy."--anonymous

 

"After a good dinner, one can forgive anybody, even one's own relations.” --Oscar Wilde

 

Now let’s move along to something a bit more inspirational, to express gratitude and love to friends and family:

 

Here is a lovely thought from Marcel Proust

“Soyons reconnaissants aux personnes qui nous donnent du bonheur; elles sont les charmants jardiniers par qui nos âmes sont fleuries.”  

(”Let us be grateful to people who make us happy; they are the charming gardeners who make our souls blossom.” Gotta love his use of the feminine pronoun here).

 

And while we’re going international, here is a bit of inspiration from a German poet:

“To speak gratitude is courteous and pleasant, to enact gratitude is generous and noble, but to live gratitude is to touch Heaven.” --Johannes Gaertner

 

Simple but beautiful:

“When we give cheerfully and accept gratefully, everyone is blessed.”--Maya Angelou

 

And finally, here are inspirational words from Voltaire that we absolutely do NOT want to follow on Thanksgiving Day:

“La modération est le trésor du sage”.

(Moderation is the pleasure of the wise).

Pas aujourd'hui, Monsieur Proust

 

On my part, I'm particularly grateful, today and everyday, to the loyal readers who keep this little blog going. Have a wonderful  and Happy Thanksgiving !

 

 

RECIPE: What to do with that Leftover Turkey

This year, we're making sandwiches from fresh biscuits, for tucking those delicious leftovers inside. Just make some biscuits, (recipe here), maybe with an oversized cutter, and pop some turkey and cranberry sauce inside. They would be even better with last week's sweet potato biscuits.

We did a trial run earlier this week with some leftover roasted chicken in a biscuit, spread with dijonnaise (for Ron), and for vegetarian me, I stuffed mine with a fried green tomato and some pimento cheese. Actually, the possibilities for a biscuit sandwich are endless! Or just go with the classic: biscuits smothered in leftover gravy.

 

In the COMMENTS: Tom, who knew Thomas Jefferson made sweet potato biscuits! I’m a little slow to catch up. Amy, buttermilk is absolutely an option, I use it for biscuits when I have it around. Susan, I confess I’ve never known the difference between sweet potatoes and yams, but I’m guessing either will work. And Natalia, an ooey gooey sweet potato casserole will for sure be on my thanksgiving table.

For your Thanksgiving viewing: We have been loving Magpie Murders, a PBS Masterpiece series based on the Anthony Horowitz book, which should be fun holiday viewing for the whole family. It inspired me to sample aHorowitz mystery in print; I chose A Line to Kill, which was as clever and creative a romp as the show.

 

 

"Les Patates Douces" Go South

When we first moved to France, you couldn’t buy a sweet potato for nothing. The French call them patates douces. But a couple of decades have passed since then, and now most grocery stores will have a few tucked away somewhere.

I figured the French grocery stores carry them for the Brits, as my French friends have never served them to us, but when I googled some French recettes lately, I found that adventurous French cooks are doing all sorts of interesting things with them: stuffing them with jambon cru and mozzarella, roasting them with honey and hazlenuts and feta, slicing them into a gratin with ginger, garlic, and cream, with a dusting of grated gruyère. They have, it seems, embraced the patate douce. 

 

Then, while back in Charleston, I saw a recipe that grabbed me. Sweet Potato Biscuits! Now how had I missed out on that deliciousness? And just in time for Thanksgiving.

 

I’ve made them twice now,  and they are pretty wonderful. They are even better the second day, if you split them and butter them and slide them under the broiler.

 

Got to run, I’m off to make these and introduce them to our French friends!

 

RECIPE: Southern Biscuits with Les Patates Douces

 

Be sure to throw a sweet potato in the microwave in advance, for the mash.

•  2 cups  flour (I used part whole wheat)
• 1 tablespoon baking powder
• 1 teaspoon salt
• 2 tablespoons sugar
• 1 1/2 teaspoon pumpkin pie spice, or cinnamon
• 6 tablespoons unsalted butter, cut into small pieces
• ½ cup cooked, mashed sweet potato, (1 medium sweet potato), chilled if you have time
• 3/4 cups whole milk
• Heavy cream or egg wash for topping

Preheat the oven to 425°F (210C)

In a food processor, add dry ingredients and pulse about 8 times. Add the butter and distribute dollops of the sweet potatoes around the top. Pulse until you have a coarse meal, 8 to 10 one second pulses. Small lumps of butter are okay.

Turn out into a bowl, make a well in the center of the mixture, and add the milk all at once. Mix together with a fork just until the dough comes together. Do not overmix or knead—you are not looking for a cohesive, smooth dough.

Dump the dough out onto a well floured work surface and use your  (floured) hands to pat it roughly into a rectangle  about an inch thick (it's a bit stickier than regular biscuit dough). Dip a knife in flour and cut into squares. Use a floury spatula to lift biscuits onto a baking sheet. Put them close together, not quite touching. 

Brush the tops with heavy cream or an egg wash (an egg beaten with a splash of water).  Sprinkle the tops with coarse sugar and a bit of cinnamon or pie spice. Plain white or brown cane sugar will work too). Bake for 20-25 minutes, or until the tops are golden brown. Serve with butter, or with honey butter or maple butter if you want to get fancy. 

If this recipe gets you on a biscuit binge, try these peach pie biscuits.

 

In the COMMENTS: Thanks for checking out Aryn's moulin project, so many of you were interested, and we are quite fascinated by it as well! We look forward to seeing her progress, and sharing it with you. It was fun to hear from those of you who have made the leap to France, as well as those who long to. And Paula, we know all about the pull of those grandkids (but ,sigh, we also know kids can move away unexpectedly, so following them can be tricky!).

Favorite READS:  If you haven't done so already, please take a detour and congratulate Kristi Espinasse on 20 years of blogging at French-Word-A-Day. She has been a great inspiration to me, and I'm sure to many of you too. And since many of you are avid readers, I think you will love reading Book Lovers, a very funny novel by Emily Henry, which has me staying up late these days since I can't put it down.

 

You Think You Went Crazy During Lockdown? Read this...

One day toward the end of the pandemic lockdown I got this amazing phone call from a reader, Aryn, in California. "My husband and I just bought an old moulin (a mill) near Beaune and I saw your blog. We've never seen the house--in fact, we've never been to Burgundy! Could you go take a look?" Well now that's adventurous, n'est pas!  Here is Aryn's story, in her own words, and you too can visit the "before" of the moulin, in photos.

Bonjour!
I’m Lynn’s crazy friend, Aryn.  My husband and I bought a 10,000 sq ft French mill which we had never seen in person, in a region of France we had never visited… from California… during a pandemic.  Oh, and it was built before the United States of America was even a thing.  Like I said…crazy.

I have always been a Francophile.  We’ve visited France several times and I love the style, history, architecture, gardens, & food.  My husband loves wine and cheese and investing in real estate, so buying a property in France seemed like something we would eventually do. We had been looking, though not very seriously, for years.  Then came 2020.

We were on lockdown, fires were raging in California where we live, the sky was literally orange, and America was one election from our beloved republic becoming an autocracy.

(Our house in the Bay Area 2020 in the middle of the day.  The smoke was so bad the automatic porch lights turned on)

Meanwhile, I was homeschooling two boys, and trying to determine which wine paired well with 4th grade math.  My escape was property hunting in France.   My husband and I had developed a long wish list of what we wanted in a property.  Regionally we narrowed it down to Burgundy, though we had never been there (temperate weather, wine, food, proximity to Paris & Geneva, etc.).   

One day in June 2020, a realtor based in Beaune sent me the link to an old flour mill built in 1767.  A quarter of it was livable, and the rest was a shell with several out-buildings. It was a mess and like twice our budget, so of course I fell in love with it.  However, we couldn’t even get to France to see it in person

While we waited impatiently for the borders to open, we did virtual tours via WhatsApp which I recorded, replayed, and analyzed with the attention to detail of a prosecutor investigating crime scene footage in a murder case.  I basically cyberstalked Beaune and the surrounding area via YouTube and social media (and when I found Lynn and this wonderful blog).  The more research I did, the more sure I felt that this was the place for us.  We just couldn’t get there. 

Thankfully, indecisiveness has never really been a problem for us.  My husband told me he loved me on our 3rd date, and I got married in the first wedding dress I tried on.  That’s just how we roll.  So we submitted a very low-ball offer and to our surprise, it was accepted on the condition we could close in May of 2021.  This worked out really well because it would give us the time to come up with the funds.  In the end, the process of buying a home in France was easier than in America.  Notaires are awesome!

The first time we went to Burgundy and saw Moulin des Fleurs was July 2021.  We were so happy! It is a massive project, but we adore it. We rented e-bikes and went riding through the vineyards.  My husband, who collects wine, has found his happy place.

I can already see the final renovated project my mind and it will be stunning (just give me like 5 years).  The neighbors are friendly and have horses that we can see from both sides of the house.  

The river running through the property is idyllic. It’s like living in a Carot painting.  We are so excited to start this adventure and a new chapter of our lives.  Feel free to follow our progress on Instagram at @lemoulindesfleurs

Thank you, Aryn, for this wonderful post. Welcome to Beaune and we look forward to seeing the progress. Stay tuned for the "after" post! 

 

In the COMMENTS: Debra, you are right, it’s not just France but a lot of Europe, who are leaders in energy conservation. Like the washers, we time our dishwasher for off-hours. Leslie, your long and interesting comment about energy conservation at home could be a perfect primer for being a responsible consumer in the age of climate change. Imagine if everyone did that! As Ali notes, Americans are not always the best at that (and how great that you added solar!). Colleen, your comment brought back memories of hanging sheets on our clothesline when I was young. We need to get back to that. And Natalia, I love the “dance of the shutters”, I am now twirling and leaping as I open and close my shutters every day!

 

Saving the Planet, French Style

In SO many ways, the French have taught us to change our habits. And in this day of high energy bills and climate change, the frugal practices they’ve used for years are looking pretty smart. We have gotten on board.

Let’s start with dryers. All that spinning and heating eat up a lot of energy. Most French folks don’t even have them, and if they do they use them sparingly. They hang their clothes outside, and not just for energy savings. They like the fresh air smell, and the sun helps to “blanchir” (whiten, brighten) things like sheets and towels (it’s better for your clothes, too).

If clothes lines are banned in your neighborhood (an unthinkable thing in France), try an expanding wall rack. I manage to dry almost all of our clothes this way.

The drying rack in my "bouanderie". Some of them fold back against the wall when not in use.

...but clothes can be hung out most anywhere.

 Then their is heating and cooling. The French use a passive solar approach. You may have noticed that almost all French houses have (fully operational) shutters. Houses have fewer windows here, and they rarely face north. When it’s hot, shutters are closed as the sun moves around the house, and opened back up as it moves along. It’s a bit of work, but it’s second nature for us now. Because it makes a HUGE difference. If your walls and floors never really heat up, the house stays cool. Everyone has standing floor fans, and the breeze they create is wonderful—much better than ceiling fans, I find. Despite a prolonged heat wave this year with temperatures often hitting 100 degrees, we very rarely turned on our  AC system. The French in general are not fond of AC—it’s fresh air all the way for them. Je suis d'accord!

Shutters in France serve a decorative function, but also a practical one

In cold weather, these same shutters are closed at night, to block out a bit of the cold.

American houses tend to have vast expanses of glass, and if they have shutters, they typically aren't functional or aren't used.  Partly due to the fact that screens are usually necessary to keep out bugs, but we don’t need screens here. However, we did have screens on our bedrooms windows in our former French house (to keep the bats out at night!), but they were retractable, so we could still use the shutters. I don’t know why all screens in the States aren’t retractable, it’s such a clever thing. There is something wonderful about a window that swings wide open to the sky.

No bugs--but bats! A couple of our bedroom windows, under the eaves of the galerie, were on their evening flight path.

One more thing: the French will never turns several lamps on for ambient lighting (guilty as charged!). Only the ones they need, which are always switched off when not in use. 

 

The French are by nature super frugal, and it’s serving them well in these troubled times. We could all be a little more French these days! Now what about y'all? Any energy saving tips for us?

 

Favorite READS: My friend Suzanne in Charleston, an avid reader, suggests a new French themed book for us: In Love with Paris, Recipes and Stories from the Most Romantic City in the World. Oh la la! Our voracious reader-in-residence Natalia recommends Lost in Translation by Ella Sanders for language lovers, and The House of Fortune by Jesse Burton, which she says is a "page-turner". And happy anniversary, Natalia!

 

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.