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Start in beauty

 
The following is a repost as we are still in the mountains:

Coming from a family of jinxers, I am superstitious about many things. How to properly begin the New Year is most certainly one of them. Already, the evening before is not to be bargained with, tradition reigns. And tradition clearly states: “Stay in with your honey, eating well and dancing after midnight. Going out is for amateurs.” It is one that has worked for the nine years that Remi and I have spent together, with money or without. Our friends know and respect this but my dear friend Frederique offered up a compromise too tempting to resist. So it was that I tippytoed down the street in my very highest heeled over the knee boots, bottles of champers in hand, to spend the apero with a wonderfully boisterous mix of friends, their kids and our dogs. Lovely talking, much laughing in front of a warm fire. Perfect.
But Cinderella-like, poof we were off far before the stroke of midnight as my honey had been preparing all afternoon. I didn’t really think it possible but he might have outdone himself. Sea bass roasted in bacon with a chablis cream sauce topped with a weighty mix of sautéed fresh shrimp, mussels, calamari and squid. Seriously? Seriously. Allez-hop, a wonderful little-known bottle of Rapatel and we were still dining as we could hear fireworks popping in the distance to announce the arrival of 2011. As usually happens, we end up shimmying around the living room before collapsing into a deep, well-deserved sleep. Sigh. Waking up, groggy as all get out near noon. Just in time for brunch! Mimosas and eggs benedict. Yes, we like to eat just a bit.

Towards the end of the day, Remi took me to a secret spot, the ruin of a twelfth century church that is so hidden in the countryside that only the most intrepid can find it. St. Veran. Surrounded by an olive grove and bathed in a golden “God” light, it symbolizes all that I love of Provence. Here you can still find such incredibly peaceful places and have them to yourselves. Just us and the birds swooping overhead. How wonderful then, to start the year in beauty. Wishing the same for all of my readers and friends across the world–health (most importantly), happiness and making the most of all that makes life wonderful!

Bonne Année! Happy, happy, happy New Year!

Fog Soup

There was truly nothing spectacular about this morning. Just a walk in the drizzle with Ben to la Poste and la Presse but something made me feel deep contentment about our little town. Not only that I am welcome to take my dog along to the post office and the newspaper stand. Perhaps a little beep about its beauty even while dressed in grey. And of course there is nothing better to do when in a good mood than to make soup (I have also made it while at the end of my rope but that is another pot of veggies altogether).
One of the many wonderful things about having two excellent markets to go to each week in Arles is that there are always fresh things laying about, there is no excuse not to have them actually. Today I felt like scraping and chopping sweet potato (which to me charmingly translates to something suggesting “gentle potato”), the regular variety, shallots, onions, not to mention ginger and a fistful of garlic to boost our sagging immune systems. All of this in the quiet, looking out onto our sleeping garden under the high church walls.
Now, I am not the natural cook that Remi and my Mom are but I am not bad at those instinctively comforting things like soups. I just want something to ease the day and our Le Creuset pot is my secret weapon, sautéing the ingredients without burning them, keeping all of the good things in. Normally I am off on some sort of fusion experiment but today was a day to leave the curry on the shelf. I tried to imagine what an old-fashioned grandmotherly kind of soup Remi would have been served when he was young. To the chicken bouillon I added the last bit of red wine from last night, herbes de Provence, salt from the Camargue. Into the blender with a bit of cream and cooked lentils added at the last minute to thicken things up. Topped with croutons and freshly shredded emmenthal cheese and there you have it, something to keep us all in good health–body and spirit! Bon Appétit! 

Rest

I love this hiccup of a week between Christmas and New Years in France. Whereas in the States, all too many of my loved ones are already back at work, here hardly anyone is. It is truly a time for taking stock of the last twelve months, being with family, wandering through town aimlessly thinking. A time of rest. And sometimes, life gives you that little extra push if you are refusing to pay attention. 
There seems to be a wicked virus flying around that hit first me, then my dear friend Frederique, her cousin and now Remi. By some gift from above, I was well enough to thoroughly enjoy the Christmas Day luncheon with our friends in the country–yes, champagne, foie gras, the usual suspects–but little else save for a small serving of my honey’s absolutely exceptional stuffed pheasant a few nights later. So much phenomenally tempting food in the refrigerator–escargots! oysters! the buche!–and yet no one to eat it. 
And yet, as I learned after my surgery gone awry at the beginning of 2010, sometimes being ill can be a blessing if taken correctly. I realize that sounds odd and of course I am not talking about any serious disease. But being forced to not move from my couch for all of the 24th, too jumbled up to even read, I was able to let the whirlwind in my mind come to, if not a standstill (it never does) then at least a quiet dance-like shuffle. 
Here is wishing you all non-stomach flu inflicted peace for the upcoming year. Thank you so much for coming and staying, your support. I would love to hear more about you!
Un grand merci à mes lecteurs francophones! C’est sincèrement une belle surprise pour moi… je vous souhaite à tous une année 2011 pleine de Bonheur et de Paix.


A Christmas outing

Well, I have been a bit lapsing the past few days, I imagine that you will understand. But what better way to celebrate Christmas Eve with some photos of one of my very favorite small towns in Provence, Uzes. Originally a Roman settlement whose springs and sources provided water to nearby Nimes (including the stunning crossing of the Pont du Gard), the town grew as a center for weaving fabric. The wealthy business owners invested heavily in their homes, especially in the 16th century, creating architecture that writes the book on quiet elegance. Uzes is also home to one of the first Dukes of France. His family has lived in the castle for one thousand years–that might also be a reason that everything has been so beautifully preserved. A rarity and an utter bijoux or jewel.
A group of us piled in the Range Rover for the afternoon visit and to do a bit of holiday shopping at some very chic boutiques. Success! Which warranted a stop at Chez Cerise to warm up over either hot spiced wine or hot chocolate served by the wonderfully wacky owner. Just after sunset, we gathered together for the ride down to Nimes for a special apero at a friends house only to find that the ever so finicky Range Rover had cut off the engine completely after an electrical problem and we were stranded. I don’t know why but this just knocked the wind out of me. It was just one of those days were I had wanted everything to be how it used to, surrounded by our funny and delightful friends. Luckily they remained so, even as the night turned colder and colder, taking the situation in hand. Let’s hear it for insurance! Soon enough all five of us plus two dogs and mountains of packages were packed into a taxi and on our way for a wonderful evening. I am still a bit embarrassed by my lack of fortitude, after all, when things go wrong when Remi and I are doing a story who knows where I stay calm, but it showed me all the more how lovely my friends are. 
And so Remi and I returned again to charming Uzes to put the Range Rover safely on a tow away truck that blocked all traffic. We waved goodbye as it went (back to) the garage for repairs and took advantage of the situation to further explore.  On one of the tiniest hidden back streets we came across a sign “Tourists and visitors, please enjoy and have a wonderful holiday season”!
I love the decor on this doorway though am not sure what the turtle and cat are meant to represent. Uzes is a patina lovers dream town. Not everything has yet been renovated though there are busy teams working on nearly every street. We were told that thirty years ago, the streets were a little dangerous with many houses abandoned or shoddily kept up. 


I’ll just let you take in the rest without too much explication. Hoping that you enjoy and are having a wonderful holiday season!

Tuning into Christmas

A dose of calm amidst the frenzy? Or have things started to settle down? Here in France, the snow has paralysed the North, leaving Paris and its airports in disarray. I truly feel for those that are waiting and hoping for their loved ones to join them. Time to get a bit weepy while singing “I’ll be home for Christmas” after having tucked into a bit too much of the Grand Marnier. In Arles, we have been spared but the sky is a solid sheet of steel and letting in as little light. If we are lucky, things might shift just enough so that we get to see the stars on Christmas Eve on our way to the midnight mass…
The last bit of bustle in our house is of course, food-oriented. The buche has been ordered–oh my do the French take the idea of a “Christmas Log” to a whole new level. And there will certainly be none of the famous Provençal Thirteen Desserts at our table as we are going for a rather richer option than dried fruits and nuts. We have again this year put all ideas of being reasonable aside and are going for what we love, “The Three Chocolates”. Is this supposed to be an illusion to the the three wise men? Entirely possible. The description roughly translates as: chocolate biscuit, creamy mousse that is a half bitter, half sweet with a bit of “ivory” (elegantly said) with a profiterole icing. And though we are only two this year, we ordered a portion for four. You never know who may turn up at the door. 
The butcher shop, Mere-grand, is reserved only for special occasions but as this is one, I plucked up my best dog voice and somehow managed to get a drooling Ben to “stay” outside the door, an act which made a pair of elderly ladies giggle with delight. The owner put in a quick phone call to his distributor and managed to locate a small pheasant that we will pick up tomorrow so that it can sit for a day before being cooked. Remi will make his own sausage and chopped liver stuffing. I asked for chestnuts as a side dish and it seems like we will be starting with escargot. All of this is for Christmas Eve, which takes precedence over the 25th here in importance. It is a day for family and yes, as I have mentioned, I am missing the rest of mine though I am well aware how blessed I am to have Remi and Ben. 
A little gift for those of you who love holiday music but feel that you are going to pull your hair out if your hear George Michael sob “Last Christmas” one more time. Turn into Christmas Lounge radio by Soma FM either on iTunes or on their website to enjoy such laid back tunes as Julie London swinging “I’ve got my love to keep me warm” or Peggy Lee whispering a very behind the beat “Jingle Bells”. You’ll thank me that you did.
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