Month: December 2015

Meet Gilles. 

He is the owner of the Factory Republique and has quickly become one of my favorite new people in Arles. 

Before giving one of my guided walks this past summer, I had spied a just-opened café right on the rue de la République, one of Arles’ main shopping streets (and right across from the insanely chic boutique Actuel B, which sells the likes of Lanvin and Comme des Garçons, a-hem). My food radar went off (thank you, Mom for that gift) and I popped in to get a card but had to hurry on my way.

Well, two weeks ago I had a bit of extra time in Arles before meeting Remi. “Fifteen minutes,” he had promised. It was a chilly, rainy day and all I wanted was a spot of tea but it was almost 12:30 and I have been flat out turned away for wanting just a drink during “meal time” in the past (I actually saw a waiter kick out a table of people lingering over their coffees to make way for eating customers at a well-known place on the boulevard des Lices – this despite the fact that of the lingerers, one was in a wheelchair and the other severely handicapped but I digress). 

I walked towards the cute café that I had seen in the summer. Oh dear, it was nearly already full but still  I pressed inside, grateful for the warmth. “I am so sorry, I know it is lunchtime but do you think it would be possible if I…” and by the time I had finished my question, I had already been helped out of my jacket and was seated with an “of course, of course” plus…a smile. A real one. I ordered my Earl Grey and a big carafe of water appeared along with it. Quelle surprise, Remi was far later than fifteen minutes and as I shifted impatiently on my tabouret, Gilles wordlessly slipped that day’s edition of the La Provence newspaper on my table. We started to chat.

It turns out that he had already developed quite a following at his previous restaurant in Fontvieille – the Cuisine du Planet whose reputation was always stellar – but decided to open up shop in Arles to be closer to his son’s schooling (because that is how they roll in France, folks). Hence the café, which he had utterly transformed from a soulless discount shoe store into a tiny but fun space, filled with great music to boot. When I left that day, Gilles gave me “les bis” or kisses on my cheek – after just my first visit! As we walked away, I saw lots of passerby pausing to wave a coucou at the cafés friendly owner and I knew that I would be back.

However, the pleasant part is that I had no idea that it would be so soon. While in-between running errands in Nîmes and Arles the other day, Remi completely stunned me when he suggested, “Why don’t we go see Gilles?” Now, this is highly unusual. I understand it – Remi is a far better cook than where we eat out unless it is Michelin-star fodder, so why go? Well, to spend time in a nice place where you feel instantly that you belong…and oh, to eat simply but really well in the process.

And I could see that it wasn’t just me who was treated warmly whether they were stopping by for an espresso (and see that machine in the background? The FR is one of the very few places where you can get a serious coffee in Arles) or to eat the daily special of, say, entrecôte et frîtes (I opted for the roasted salmon with mustard vinaigrette instead – it was perfectly seasoned and tender, the fries delish) for only 15 Euros. Everyone was. Every. Single. One.

Remi enjoyed his maxi salade and the next time that I go I will try the smoked salmon sandwich that the woman had at the table behind us, which, while only costing 5 Euros was copious and looked tempting. Our muffin au chocolat avec crème anglaise was quite good too. Husky blues played in the background while we ate and at one point Remi pointed out that I was talking too loudly. Yep, that can happen when I am content. I think that French word for that feeling is bonhomie. 🙂

But honestly, just go to meet Gilles. He is fluent in English and German and will not treat you badly if you don’t speak French. Something else that I noticed on both occasions? There were tables of women who felt completely comfortable eating there on their own – really, far more of a rarity than you would think in France. Gilles told me that he is going to scale back the menu a bit for the winter months as he would rather have fewer items that are local and in-season, just as he also knows that if he had more options available then he would have to be back in the kitchen cooking as well when what he really wants is to be out front. That says a lot. And if you do go and spy a red-head hunched over her book in a corner or people-watching out on the terrace, then by all means say hello as it may well be me! Hopefully you will enjoy as much as I do the spirit of this new old-school café.*

Café Factory Republique

35 rue de la Republique

13200 – Arles

Tel.: 04 90 54 52 53 (dialing locally)

Open: 8am to 7pm, until 8:30pm on Saturday

Free Wi-Fi

A good idea? Ditch your hotel’s over-priced breakfast and come here instead.

Don’t believe me? Ok, now truly DON’T trust TripAdvisor for eating out in Arles. Except, sauf, in this case as this sweet little café has risen to the number one spot in a matter of just a few months for one reason primarily…and now you know his name!

Bon Appétit…

I have written frequently about my fascination with the layers of history that have been laid down in France. Time periods waggle fingers at each other – the you should have beens – or blush in coy shades of regret or admiration decades, if not centuries, after the fact.

It is one of the many elements of living in this old country that I never tire of nor ever quite grasp either, not entirely, if I am being honest (even when I like to think that I do). Blame it on the American shiny new in me. It has taken ten years of living in Provence – where the length of history’s reach is more blatant in the everyday than in Paris – for me to start to soak up the joy of so much existence present along with its past, both stitched together tightly.

But there are most certainly places that give me direct peace in their seamless cohesion.

That is the case each time that I visit the Chapelle Saint-Sixte on the outskirts of the charming village of Eygaliéres.

As one of the most treasured sites in Provence, its ochre-domed porch fronts hundreds of postcards…

…and is the shelter for many a spring wedding photo…or other testaments to sentimental love…

… but the history of its stones reach back to before recorded history. 

The surrounding scenery seems to know, nodding with cypresses reaching heavenward and vines that are twisted dry under the weight of too many seasons.

A stèle or Stonehenge-like marker stone was in place until the 19th century and it is believed that it marked the site of what was originally a pagan temple dedicated to the cult of water. And yes, a source was present here and it was from this temple that the veterans of the Rome’s 6th legion chose to build an aqueduct to deliver fresh water to the citizens of Arles – nearly 30 miles away – during the height of the Empire’s rule. The nearby village of Eygaliéres would take its name from the Roman word Aqualeria for its wealth of refreshment.

The current chapel is one of the clearest examples of Provençal Romanesque architecture in its simplicity and form. The first mention of it was in 1155 but it was the reference to Easter Tuesday in 1222 that launched the pilgrimage to the chapel from the village (actually a “roumavage” in Provençal which comes from “a voyage to Rome”) in order to plead Saint Sixtus to supply water for the following years crops – one that has continued until this day. The elongated porch was added in the 1629 to serve as a guard-post for inspecting travelers during the plagues of that period and a bell was restored to its tower in 2008.

When we took my Mom and her husband Leonard to visit the Chapelle Saint-Sixte last September, I wandered around with camera in hand, still under its spell after all of these years. Both Leonard and I were intrigued by the many traces that time’s graces had left, some so small and yet each so significant.  When I returned to the porch, I found Remi and my Mom deep in a theological discussion concerning the overlapping present in the main religions, with my Mom providing her perspective as a Buddhist. They talked all the way back to the car, heads nearly meeting in thought.

And that in itself, made me feel quite content. After a thousand years, a site can still be sensed “holy” by many and a touch of faith is continually inspiring in its largesse. Here is to hoping that time will be patient enough and receptive to our efforts so that such layers, thinner than a thread of silk, will be spinning out harmoniously in as many years to come.

The Chapelle Sainte-Sixte

Route d’Orgon

13810 Eygaliéres

Mass is held on Thursdays at 9:30am in summer

Pour mes lecteurs francophones, la chant de roumavage (en français et provençale):