Post by cigalechanta on Nov 5, 2007 18:03:30 GMT -5
It was a warm day when we left Boston. I wore a Petit Bateau t-shirt and cropped pants and and one of those cashmere shawls that are so light that they can be slipped through a ring, yet very warm to wear, a Loro Piano.
Dinner on AirFrance was chicken paprika and couscous. Not bad considering how awful airline food is. We arrived in Paris to find it raining there. We picked up our rental car and headed to Burgundy , stopping in Auxerre at The Grand Gustier Bistro. We were the only non locals and this was going to be one of our favorites of this year's trip. Driving through Burgundy were fields of sunflowers that had turned brown but were studded with yellow heads straining towards the sun. Avallon was our destination and I was disappointed to find it very cold there because I was looking forward to dining by the stream and watermill, but the hostess of th Moulin des Ruats sat us by the huge window that offered us the lovely view. This is a place I always order truite bleu. The night was cold, the heat was turned on and we had warm blankets. The next morning after breakfast we left for Provence where we were greeted with dazzling sunlight.
Lunch time we stopped in Valence at a favorite seafood chain,
Maitre Kanter before heading to Maussane , our home for a week.
knew when we were in Maussane that summer was over. My cigales were not singing and a few favorite shops were only opened on the weekend. We settled in our place, a wing of a friend's house that we rented. Arrival was later than we expected so our hosts were not there and left the key for us. There was time for freshening up before we went to a nearby village for a welcoming dinner cooked for us by friends. They invited us back for a few days later on day we were going to the Var.
Denis would be working during the day and so we asked Meli to come along and she offered to drive.(more later about that)
The following day, Jerry had a swim in the pool after breakfast. Every morning we had Cavaillon melon as one of the treats.
I wished I had a shot of Beaune de Venise to pour over it.
(My wish was granted the next day because Jerry bought bottle.)
In Arles, we had a reservation at L'Atelier de Jean-Luc Rabenel. As much as I enjoy Rabanel's cooking, I was disappointed. When he was at the Chassagnette, following the chefs from Chez Juju, he served everything in organic inspired serving dishes and you sat at wooden tables facing the organic garden, with the
herbs growing in the foreground where butterflies danced overhead. In Arles the servings were on white pottery and inside modern-zen atmosphere, as he calls it and the tables are set on the street with passing by folk glaring at your food and neighbors going in and out of their home. I missed the bucolic setting of Chassagnette, and like the chef at El Buli, he had the trendy foam in two of the dishes.We were to encounter this at two other places.
Back in Maussane, we shopped for food for one of several nights where we would dine by the pool.
Today is the day we will go to the Var for a surprise visit to our friend Jean-Pierre who ran the Cafe Progress in Eygalieres. He and his wife have taken over the running of the Hotel Les Pins in Sillens-la-Cascade.
We drove to Meli's home in Molleges and parked our car there and off we went in Meli's car. Jerry and Meli were in front. I sat in the back and I noticed we were going in the wrong direction but Meli insisted she knew where she was going. Sillens is above Cotignac and here she was heading to La Ciotat, on the Mediterranean. I handed the map to Jerry and insited we take another route. After 50 miles out of our way, we finally arrived at Les Pins and we were received with warm welcome and was immeduiately given a pastis that eliminated my irritation. Lunch time was just
ending but my friend asked his chef if he wouldn't mind
preparing lunch for us. After lunch the chef joined us for a drink
We were happy to see how happy the staff seemed to be working for their new boss. They all stopped by our table to say hello. At one table was a couple from Eygalieres who also made to drive to see our mutual friend in their new village. Never have I seen so many smiling faces in one place.
Lunch was very good and the local wine refreshing. Jerry chatted with Marielle, John-Pierre's wife while we taken on tour of the hotel. After much departing kisses, and promises to return, we headed back with clear directions from Jean-Pierre and arrived at Meli's where her husband Denis was preparing dinner. That night we slept soundly, we were so tired.
Saturday, one of our yearly stops, a lunch or dinner at Jean-Louis's Bistro du Paradou. We had lunch this time and shopped some marchés and shops to buy lavender essence for me and some Opinel knives, herbs de Provence, Camargue fleur de sel for our friends who are taking care of our dog, Pastis.
We went to a brocante and fete in Mouries. The locals were dressed in traditional Provençal costumes and dances were performed. The girls looked exceptionally adorable in these togs from the past. Our hosts invited us to join them nd some of their friends at Sunday dinner on their terrace. What surprise later to meet two guests who live half the year near us and half at their home in Maussane. We exchanged addresses.
The next day was lunch by the fountaine in Maussane at one of the many cafés there. The SlowTrav GTG planned by Kaydee also a fodorite who gives tours. It held in LaCoste at the Domaine de Layaude. It's a pity they wer not serving outdoors, the weather was fine and the views were spectacular. Jerry and I were the first to arrive so we at least got to have a pastis on the terrace. Everyone ws very nice and I finally got to meet Kevin Woodrow who is just as nice and helpful as he is on fodors. Before the night event was over the rains came and it was alot of rain as we dashed to our cars. Unknown to me, Jerry had left his bag behind that held passports, airline tickets.
As we were about to drive off, some woman came rushing up to the car and tapped on the window and asked if I left my bag, as I said no, we suddenly realized it was Jerry's. I don't know who it was in the dark that saved us but I extend a huge thanks to you if you are reading this, or anyone who knows you. You must have been drenched!!
Daylight, it seems like nice day as we head for Bonnieux.
We check out menus, (Fournil was closed) so we settle on Le Tinel, only because Bandade, the provençal favorite of mine is on the menu. This place has great views from the windows but lacking in ambiance. As we dined, the Mistral hit and it suddenly became very cold. Later as it calmed down w drove to St Remy to buy Joel Durand Chocolates and Petite Duc cookies for our hosts and food for dinner by the pool.
The next morning, Provence has turned cold and it's our last few hours there and the first time we could not have breakfast by the pool. We give our gifts to our hosts, they give us bottle of wine from a relatives vineyard which happens to be my favorite, Gigondas. Lots of kissing, hugs as we leave while the rain starts. Stops to buy tins of Olive oil, one at the Moulin Castelas and one at the Mas de Barre.
Along the road to Albi, we stop in Sommieres which is in Languedoc. The writer Lawrence Durrell lived here from 1957 until his death in 1990. We had lunch behind the walled central quarter. Jerry must take medication with three meals so stopping to eat is must. It was a lovely day and all the outdoor cafés were filled but lucky we found one to seat us.
It was cold when we drove into Albi and we both needed sweaters. We found a heavy blue cardigan for him at a men's boutique and at the Comptoir des Cotonniers, a hip length black one snap closing sweater. We spent the night at the Villa Mandarine. In the morning after breakfast, we went to the Toulouse-Lautrec Museum and then to the St Cecile Cathedral to hear a concert by a visiting Russion group of 6 but soundd like so many more due to the acoustics.
Lunch was special at the L'Espirit du Vin but again the atmosphere was very formal though it exists in kind of a stone cave.
We left Albi with no idea where would stay next. We came upon hotel in Grolejac (Dordogne). Simple rooms but a nice terrace.
We checked in and sat at the bar for a pastis and chatted with the chef/owner/bartender. He asked if I liked fish and when I said yes he said he would cook fritures for me that he caught across the road in the Dordogne. Soon a British couple sat at the bar and joined in our conversation. They moved from England in November and bought a house up the road in a hamlet. They asked if we'd like to share a table with them, so dinner and long night of drinking, Man, could this man Robin drink beers!!!! They gave us their address and tel. number should we return there. One amusing incident, besides Robin. This couple walked in carrying a small white poodle.
They stopped to say hello to Bruno, the owner and she asked me if i'd like to hear her dog talk. Of Course I said yes. She asked the dog to say hello and the dog said almost like hello how are you. The couple then sat down at a table. Jerry was in the toilette when this happened. When he returned to the bar, I walkd over to the table and asked the lady to have her dog say hello to Jerry. It was a very funny moment.
We had no reservation this last day in France and thought we would stay near Giverny. What a surprise to see the village overrun with tourists in the pouring rain. We had to honk to make the leave the road as we headed to the Hotel Baudy for a Suze.
Everywhere was booked but we found a room at Les Damiers in La Roche-Guyon, lunch in Gasny was wonderful at the Auberge du Prieuré Normond. At night dinner was at the Bord de Seine and a big disappointment. Nearby sat a woman who looked so much like Daisy in Keeping Up Appearences.
The next morning I awoke with laryngitis and sounded like Tululah Bankhead. I had a running nose and rear. We arrived at CDG turned in the car. After going through customs where a woman frisked me back and front. I told her that was not padding in my rear, she laughed and translated what I said to the security guy with her. Strangely, they asked Jerry to put his glasses in the bin that goes through the detector but not me? Nor did they ask us to remove shoes this time.
By this time i'm really feeling not so great. My nose has been running like crazy and I'm in the toilettes alot and a couigh has started. At CDG, Jerry asked me for 10€ as he had none left to buy a can on beer and a plastic glass of rosé at a stand. It turned out not to be enough cash and he asked for another 5, I walked around from where I ws sitting and gave him the 5. Tht's the last I remember seeing my wallet. The new terminal is confusing for me. I couldn't find the Galleries Lafayette and the Hermés shop where I liked to Browse.
Boarding time. It's only the second time I remember sitting on a second level on an airplane. The first time many years ago.
the top level was half filled so as I watched French films and mad runs to the toilet, Jerry moved to th back to sleep across seats where the chair arms could be lifted. Several others did the same. Across from me was seated an extremely handsome young man. He wore his hair slicked back with no path, a look I usually don't like but it suited him.
He wore a thin black knit cashmere sweater that skimmed his body and wore beautiful black side
buckelled shoes. Yes, I checked him out! I was amused at all the flight attendants who stopped to chat with him and all the young woman who walked to the toilette again and again who did not have my emergency. When we landed I saw him take his LV weekend bag down from the bin and don a matching jacket to his pants. A flight attendant looked disappointed he paid no attention to her. He was too busy exchanging cards with his French male seat mate.
It was raining (again!!) when we landed near midnight. The cab driver said it was the first rain in weeks. The next day I could see all the wilting in my small garden. We slept late and the nxt day Jerry went to our friends to bring home our darling Pastis. My cough grew worse and the nose ran for days, so much I felt my nose would drop off but the toilette visits became less and less,
Tululah stayed few days. Now I felt well enough to tackle the wash and ironing, and the hundreds of emails, mostly spam and friends and posters who send jokes or something
and forum updates where I post. And now here I am.
After thoughts: The many restaurants who follow the trend of foam including the Moulin de Lourmarin who served it with my dorade. Loubet's name is still there on everything but he's let the main terrace get seedy. Four adorable kittens belonging to a neighbor frolicked around us but the server asked us to ignore them because they would try to use the huge Provençal pots for sandboxes. I t was amusing to see the host and other help trying to capture them or shoo them out.
The trend of salads with tomatoes combined with other fruits like melon and apples.
Strawberries, though white in the center, the main part is so sweet. Here, it is usually a bitter strawberry.
Fashion observation: sea of jeans all over France,
and yes, Virginia, the French do wear whité sneakers or trainers, but the white are a trim style like the Bensimon that has shops in Paris and St. Remy. These things are worn at casual cafés, brocantes, shopping, hanging around but almost never for dinner in a restaurant.
Grey was the main color in al the fall/winter collections.
Lots of heavy sweaters
Why are some restaurants closed on Tuesday and Wednesdays? Baffled Jerry. Have sinse learned children don't have school on Wednesday.
A note from the lady who returned our bag, a very chaarming woman pathologist that sat across me at dinner in LaCoste.
"In France everything speaks of long familiar intercourse
between the earth and its inhabitants; every field has name, a history, a distinct place of its own in the village polity;
every blade of grass is there by an old feudal right which has long since dispossed the worthless aboriginal weed."
Edith Wharton
Dinner on AirFrance was chicken paprika and couscous. Not bad considering how awful airline food is. We arrived in Paris to find it raining there. We picked up our rental car and headed to Burgundy , stopping in Auxerre at The Grand Gustier Bistro. We were the only non locals and this was going to be one of our favorites of this year's trip. Driving through Burgundy were fields of sunflowers that had turned brown but were studded with yellow heads straining towards the sun. Avallon was our destination and I was disappointed to find it very cold there because I was looking forward to dining by the stream and watermill, but the hostess of th Moulin des Ruats sat us by the huge window that offered us the lovely view. This is a place I always order truite bleu. The night was cold, the heat was turned on and we had warm blankets. The next morning after breakfast we left for Provence where we were greeted with dazzling sunlight.
Lunch time we stopped in Valence at a favorite seafood chain,
Maitre Kanter before heading to Maussane , our home for a week.
knew when we were in Maussane that summer was over. My cigales were not singing and a few favorite shops were only opened on the weekend. We settled in our place, a wing of a friend's house that we rented. Arrival was later than we expected so our hosts were not there and left the key for us. There was time for freshening up before we went to a nearby village for a welcoming dinner cooked for us by friends. They invited us back for a few days later on day we were going to the Var.
Denis would be working during the day and so we asked Meli to come along and she offered to drive.(more later about that)
The following day, Jerry had a swim in the pool after breakfast. Every morning we had Cavaillon melon as one of the treats.
I wished I had a shot of Beaune de Venise to pour over it.
(My wish was granted the next day because Jerry bought bottle.)
In Arles, we had a reservation at L'Atelier de Jean-Luc Rabenel. As much as I enjoy Rabanel's cooking, I was disappointed. When he was at the Chassagnette, following the chefs from Chez Juju, he served everything in organic inspired serving dishes and you sat at wooden tables facing the organic garden, with the
herbs growing in the foreground where butterflies danced overhead. In Arles the servings were on white pottery and inside modern-zen atmosphere, as he calls it and the tables are set on the street with passing by folk glaring at your food and neighbors going in and out of their home. I missed the bucolic setting of Chassagnette, and like the chef at El Buli, he had the trendy foam in two of the dishes.We were to encounter this at two other places.
Back in Maussane, we shopped for food for one of several nights where we would dine by the pool.
Today is the day we will go to the Var for a surprise visit to our friend Jean-Pierre who ran the Cafe Progress in Eygalieres. He and his wife have taken over the running of the Hotel Les Pins in Sillens-la-Cascade.
We drove to Meli's home in Molleges and parked our car there and off we went in Meli's car. Jerry and Meli were in front. I sat in the back and I noticed we were going in the wrong direction but Meli insisted she knew where she was going. Sillens is above Cotignac and here she was heading to La Ciotat, on the Mediterranean. I handed the map to Jerry and insited we take another route. After 50 miles out of our way, we finally arrived at Les Pins and we were received with warm welcome and was immeduiately given a pastis that eliminated my irritation. Lunch time was just
ending but my friend asked his chef if he wouldn't mind
preparing lunch for us. After lunch the chef joined us for a drink
We were happy to see how happy the staff seemed to be working for their new boss. They all stopped by our table to say hello. At one table was a couple from Eygalieres who also made to drive to see our mutual friend in their new village. Never have I seen so many smiling faces in one place.
Lunch was very good and the local wine refreshing. Jerry chatted with Marielle, John-Pierre's wife while we taken on tour of the hotel. After much departing kisses, and promises to return, we headed back with clear directions from Jean-Pierre and arrived at Meli's where her husband Denis was preparing dinner. That night we slept soundly, we were so tired.
Saturday, one of our yearly stops, a lunch or dinner at Jean-Louis's Bistro du Paradou. We had lunch this time and shopped some marchés and shops to buy lavender essence for me and some Opinel knives, herbs de Provence, Camargue fleur de sel for our friends who are taking care of our dog, Pastis.
We went to a brocante and fete in Mouries. The locals were dressed in traditional Provençal costumes and dances were performed. The girls looked exceptionally adorable in these togs from the past. Our hosts invited us to join them nd some of their friends at Sunday dinner on their terrace. What surprise later to meet two guests who live half the year near us and half at their home in Maussane. We exchanged addresses.
The next day was lunch by the fountaine in Maussane at one of the many cafés there. The SlowTrav GTG planned by Kaydee also a fodorite who gives tours. It held in LaCoste at the Domaine de Layaude. It's a pity they wer not serving outdoors, the weather was fine and the views were spectacular. Jerry and I were the first to arrive so we at least got to have a pastis on the terrace. Everyone ws very nice and I finally got to meet Kevin Woodrow who is just as nice and helpful as he is on fodors. Before the night event was over the rains came and it was alot of rain as we dashed to our cars. Unknown to me, Jerry had left his bag behind that held passports, airline tickets.
As we were about to drive off, some woman came rushing up to the car and tapped on the window and asked if I left my bag, as I said no, we suddenly realized it was Jerry's. I don't know who it was in the dark that saved us but I extend a huge thanks to you if you are reading this, or anyone who knows you. You must have been drenched!!
Daylight, it seems like nice day as we head for Bonnieux.
We check out menus, (Fournil was closed) so we settle on Le Tinel, only because Bandade, the provençal favorite of mine is on the menu. This place has great views from the windows but lacking in ambiance. As we dined, the Mistral hit and it suddenly became very cold. Later as it calmed down w drove to St Remy to buy Joel Durand Chocolates and Petite Duc cookies for our hosts and food for dinner by the pool.
The next morning, Provence has turned cold and it's our last few hours there and the first time we could not have breakfast by the pool. We give our gifts to our hosts, they give us bottle of wine from a relatives vineyard which happens to be my favorite, Gigondas. Lots of kissing, hugs as we leave while the rain starts. Stops to buy tins of Olive oil, one at the Moulin Castelas and one at the Mas de Barre.
Along the road to Albi, we stop in Sommieres which is in Languedoc. The writer Lawrence Durrell lived here from 1957 until his death in 1990. We had lunch behind the walled central quarter. Jerry must take medication with three meals so stopping to eat is must. It was a lovely day and all the outdoor cafés were filled but lucky we found one to seat us.
It was cold when we drove into Albi and we both needed sweaters. We found a heavy blue cardigan for him at a men's boutique and at the Comptoir des Cotonniers, a hip length black one snap closing sweater. We spent the night at the Villa Mandarine. In the morning after breakfast, we went to the Toulouse-Lautrec Museum and then to the St Cecile Cathedral to hear a concert by a visiting Russion group of 6 but soundd like so many more due to the acoustics.
Lunch was special at the L'Espirit du Vin but again the atmosphere was very formal though it exists in kind of a stone cave.
We left Albi with no idea where would stay next. We came upon hotel in Grolejac (Dordogne). Simple rooms but a nice terrace.
We checked in and sat at the bar for a pastis and chatted with the chef/owner/bartender. He asked if I liked fish and when I said yes he said he would cook fritures for me that he caught across the road in the Dordogne. Soon a British couple sat at the bar and joined in our conversation. They moved from England in November and bought a house up the road in a hamlet. They asked if we'd like to share a table with them, so dinner and long night of drinking, Man, could this man Robin drink beers!!!! They gave us their address and tel. number should we return there. One amusing incident, besides Robin. This couple walked in carrying a small white poodle.
They stopped to say hello to Bruno, the owner and she asked me if i'd like to hear her dog talk. Of Course I said yes. She asked the dog to say hello and the dog said almost like hello how are you. The couple then sat down at a table. Jerry was in the toilette when this happened. When he returned to the bar, I walkd over to the table and asked the lady to have her dog say hello to Jerry. It was a very funny moment.
We had no reservation this last day in France and thought we would stay near Giverny. What a surprise to see the village overrun with tourists in the pouring rain. We had to honk to make the leave the road as we headed to the Hotel Baudy for a Suze.
Everywhere was booked but we found a room at Les Damiers in La Roche-Guyon, lunch in Gasny was wonderful at the Auberge du Prieuré Normond. At night dinner was at the Bord de Seine and a big disappointment. Nearby sat a woman who looked so much like Daisy in Keeping Up Appearences.
The next morning I awoke with laryngitis and sounded like Tululah Bankhead. I had a running nose and rear. We arrived at CDG turned in the car. After going through customs where a woman frisked me back and front. I told her that was not padding in my rear, she laughed and translated what I said to the security guy with her. Strangely, they asked Jerry to put his glasses in the bin that goes through the detector but not me? Nor did they ask us to remove shoes this time.
By this time i'm really feeling not so great. My nose has been running like crazy and I'm in the toilettes alot and a couigh has started. At CDG, Jerry asked me for 10€ as he had none left to buy a can on beer and a plastic glass of rosé at a stand. It turned out not to be enough cash and he asked for another 5, I walked around from where I ws sitting and gave him the 5. Tht's the last I remember seeing my wallet. The new terminal is confusing for me. I couldn't find the Galleries Lafayette and the Hermés shop where I liked to Browse.
Boarding time. It's only the second time I remember sitting on a second level on an airplane. The first time many years ago.
the top level was half filled so as I watched French films and mad runs to the toilet, Jerry moved to th back to sleep across seats where the chair arms could be lifted. Several others did the same. Across from me was seated an extremely handsome young man. He wore his hair slicked back with no path, a look I usually don't like but it suited him.
He wore a thin black knit cashmere sweater that skimmed his body and wore beautiful black side
buckelled shoes. Yes, I checked him out! I was amused at all the flight attendants who stopped to chat with him and all the young woman who walked to the toilette again and again who did not have my emergency. When we landed I saw him take his LV weekend bag down from the bin and don a matching jacket to his pants. A flight attendant looked disappointed he paid no attention to her. He was too busy exchanging cards with his French male seat mate.
It was raining (again!!) when we landed near midnight. The cab driver said it was the first rain in weeks. The next day I could see all the wilting in my small garden. We slept late and the nxt day Jerry went to our friends to bring home our darling Pastis. My cough grew worse and the nose ran for days, so much I felt my nose would drop off but the toilette visits became less and less,
Tululah stayed few days. Now I felt well enough to tackle the wash and ironing, and the hundreds of emails, mostly spam and friends and posters who send jokes or something
and forum updates where I post. And now here I am.
After thoughts: The many restaurants who follow the trend of foam including the Moulin de Lourmarin who served it with my dorade. Loubet's name is still there on everything but he's let the main terrace get seedy. Four adorable kittens belonging to a neighbor frolicked around us but the server asked us to ignore them because they would try to use the huge Provençal pots for sandboxes. I t was amusing to see the host and other help trying to capture them or shoo them out.
The trend of salads with tomatoes combined with other fruits like melon and apples.
Strawberries, though white in the center, the main part is so sweet. Here, it is usually a bitter strawberry.
Fashion observation: sea of jeans all over France,
and yes, Virginia, the French do wear whité sneakers or trainers, but the white are a trim style like the Bensimon that has shops in Paris and St. Remy. These things are worn at casual cafés, brocantes, shopping, hanging around but almost never for dinner in a restaurant.
Grey was the main color in al the fall/winter collections.
Lots of heavy sweaters
Why are some restaurants closed on Tuesday and Wednesdays? Baffled Jerry. Have sinse learned children don't have school on Wednesday.
A note from the lady who returned our bag, a very chaarming woman pathologist that sat across me at dinner in LaCoste.
"In France everything speaks of long familiar intercourse
between the earth and its inhabitants; every field has name, a history, a distinct place of its own in the village polity;
every blade of grass is there by an old feudal right which has long since dispossed the worthless aboriginal weed."
Edith Wharton
Let the riot begin! LOL - 
hahahha