Month: January 2013

Winter wan

Where did the color go?

I too feel washed something other than clean, not rinsed and wrung either. Just a winter wan. 

If I kick about my ankles, time is not spooled like silk. Rather it is turning around me as a cotton batt tornado.

Silent and the birds have stopped singing as if I were in the eye.

Luckily there is touch. And texture. 
Running my fingers over a bit of bark or a gold-rimmed coffee cup heats the tips with sparks of blue, green, gold…
I lean towards the warmth and am pulled forward into the ticking minutes…
…and further down the wide if barren path…
…slow as breathing towards something resembling Spring. 

Car wash

We took our old Saab for a ride today–yes, think “Sideways”. 
Am I crazy? I found the bubbles beautiful…

Bon-weekend à toutes et à tous…

Orange Crush in a bowl

Hello there friends. Remi and I are back from a whirlwind trip to Grenoble for a photo shoot. Me, tagging along as the winsome assistant, which I do from time to time, most often when there is a large amount of studio lighting (hence equipment) involved. I really enjoyed the entire experience–being in laboratories where several thousand year old objects are being restored, looking up at the light skiing down the snow-covered mountaintops, taking in the jazz-riff reposts of the researchers plus zeroing in on the act of looking and learning from Remi while he worked. But we arrived late last night after picking up our tail-thumper and admittedly both of us (yes, the furry being is excluded) are headachy with fatigue. Time for a little something restorative. And for once, I don’t mean yoga.
While I do believe that my theme par excellence dans la cuisine is making up something–poof!–out the jumble of ingredients lolling around, I do love to cook. And I have to say that no one person has inspired me more recently than Deb Perelman of the Smitten Kitchen blog and now, the cookbook. Not only is she extremely funny and down to earth, this is exactly how I like to cook and eat–with an interesting spin on fresh ingredients that are affordable and a process that is enjoyable. She has a mere closet of a kitchen, as do I and will rework a recipe to use as few pans as possible. The flavors and textures are layered without being fussy. So, without further ado, here is the dish that I will make over and over again for this rest of the winter and beyond: Carrot soup with tahini and roasted chickpeas!
The general gist is the following–sauté your carrots in a bit of olive oil along with a diced onion, at least five smashed heads of garlic (I upped the ante to microwave any flu germs), s&p plus your spices (I used cumin, chipolte powder, cayenne pepper, my new chouchou–Baharat Spice and Trader Joe’s “Smoke” blend which I am addicted to) over medium heat until the carrots are soft, about 20 minutes. Add four cups of veggie broth and cook for another 30, let cool a bit. While that is going on, mix your chickpeas with some olive oil, sea salt and cumin (as I live for heat, I added a little ancho chile powder too) and roast them on high heat for about 20 minutes. My favorite element is the tahini dressing with 3 tablespoons of tahini and…well, I doubled the amount of fresh lemon juice to at least four tablespoons, add water and whisk to a smooth consistency. Blend the soup, transfer to pre-warmed bowls, drizzle the tahini dressing and top with the crunchy chickpeas and chopped parsley or fresh coriander. Oh! This being Yee Olde France, I haven’t made the pita wedges yet as they are tough to find–yes, pita is exotic here!–but they sound like the perfect sopping up material. The end result of all of this is so easy (you can make most of it with a wine glass in hand, bonus!), so cheap and so utterly good that you will thank me then hopefully hop over to sign up for updates at Smitten Kitchen if you haven’t already. I have never made anything of hers that I didn’t love. The cookbook has suggestions from breakfast through dinner (including a nice vegetarian chapter) to drinks with the last third geared to those of you talented people that bake–sadly, I do not although I just might need to give the red wine velvet cake with marscapone goo a go… 
If you are being good, you can follow the soup up with more vitaminized liquid orangina…
…And if you are being naughty, well…is that my fault? I don’t believe that it is. Just a little power of suggestion…

I think a lot of us are trying to rethink what vegetarian means to us, do you agree? While I am still working my way through Yotam Ottolenghi’s “Plenty”, I was just given “Simon Bryant’s Vegies” by my dear friend Virginia and it looks amaaazing (although I am going to have to do some serious translating for the ingredients I can’t get here–I love their exotic names, Shaosing, Bulacan, Silverbeet, the Rapini in the photo). Although I haven’t yet had the chance to test run any of it, I still wanted to give a head’s up to those of you Down Under. The photography inspired Remi for his photo shoot in Grenoble, which brings me back to the beginning of this post. In a circle. Like an orange. Or an orange crush. 
Please stay happy and healthy wherever you are! 

Orange crush on Les Baux

I try to keep the photoshop shenanigans in hand with all that I share with you here. No instagramy apps or lily-gilding. Call me old-school (by all means) but what motivates me, especially for this blog, is to share the abounding beauty of Provence. And honestly, that does not require any special effects. Just a simple point in any general direction and a click will do.
Hooowever. As we were whisking around our charming Australian visitor the other afternoon in the cold (“Olive groves to your left, vineyards to the right!”), some dial or other must have turned while I was pulling my camera in and out of my pocket. As we headed into the village of Les Baux, suddenly every little snap was tainted with a roguish glow and I didn’t know what to do. I desperately pawed at various buttons with frozen fingertips to no avail. Could I have simply asked Remi what was wrong? Absolutely. But then I would have been met with “Did you read the book that I gave you about the camera?” and I would have pressed my lips together impishly, defeated. So I said nothing and clambered over the cobblestones, trying to keep up. 
I have written about Les Baux de Provence before, a few times actually and in various seasons. It is for most of the year one of the most frequented sites touristiques français in the region. Thousands upon thousands of visitors clamour for a hint of Les Baux’s grand past replete with warriors and troubadours, all while being serenaded by the mechanical hiccups of ceramic cicadas Made in China. But not today. 
For we were completely and utterly alone. Surprisingly so. The shops were shuttered and only our footsteps echoed, bitten back metallic with the snap of the wind.
Stammeringly, I kept trying to explain how unique of a moment it was to our young Aussie friend but how could she understand? 
That doorway that so many seek had somehow opened for us. It seemed like a private joke between  Provence and I. So I kept the photos just as they are, me sweet on them, their little sepia lie and that indefinable something threading the in-between of time.

No cigar!

I was in international press Nirvana, also known as the Relay H shop of the Avignon TGV train station. Carefully, I approached the January edition of Architectural Digest and began to gingerly flip, flip, flip. “What if she had decided to go ahead with it and just had forgotten to tell me?” I barely let myself wonder, breath baited, scanning quickly, disappointment looming large…no. It was true…close… but no cigar!
What on earth am I talking about? Well, a few months back I received an email from Betsy Horan, the Photo Director of AD. She had interest in some of my photos of L’Isle sur la Sorgue that might be of use for her January issue. Wait, my photos? We are used to dealing with photo requests around here…but for Remi (and as there has been some confusion as of late, let me clarify that the photos on this blog are indeed taken by me, what he does is a whole other level of kitty and kaboodle altogether). How I had blinked in surprise at her email for several seconds in surprise and then split out into the biggest smile. Remi was so proud. And it is worth mentioning that in our small exchange, Ms. Horan could not have been nicer. Further proof as if we needed any that quality rises.

So today’s little Hide and Go Seek was the final confirmation of what I already knew, that the photos were a no go…this time! But how incredibly excited I was to have been contacted. Really and truly. 

Well, I will keep moving forward in the right direction…

…but bundled up (our sweet visitor from Australia has been swathed in a puffer) because despite appearances this ain’t L.A. and Baby, it’s cold outside!
Have a great Weekend everyone!

Ooh! ps. I am experimenting a bit with putting comment approval and word verification back on as the spam is getting out of control. Hating it? Don’t mind at all? Any thoughts are welcome…

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