From Paris to Provence

The cooking continues, the food continues, and the view just gets better and better.

As much as I love the farmer's market in Carrboro, it cannot compare to the numerous outdoor markets in France. The variety and amount of produce, meat, fish, and flowers is just staggering. In France, meat of any variety is presented in, shall we say, the natural form -- not butchered and cut into pieces as we are used to seeing it in a supermarket in the US. Rabbit is sold totally intact, fur still on, head on, etc. As our instructor pointed out, this is to ensure the buyer he - or she - is getting what they asked for for and paid for. In the case of the rabbit, the consumer can relax knowing he is actually getting a rabbit...and not, as chef explained, a cat. If the visual weren't disturbing enough for this animal lover, the rationale was the clincher. Does one actually NEED to be assured one is not purchasing cat?? Has someone actually made a purchase of "rabbit" at the market to discover it was, in fact, cat? (un chat in French). I decided it was best not to inquire about what other mistakes one could make purchasing meat at the market. The biggest concern I have shopping at the Carrboro Farmer's Market is whether the mini muffins will be gone before I get there.



We took the TGV train from Paris to Avignon, in Provence, yesterday afternoon. Although I need medication (right now) just thinking about my flight back to the US, for some reason I was not disturbed to find you can walk into the train station in Paris 15 minutes prior to departure and hop on board - with all sorts of luggage and packages - without benefit of passing through any type of screening or security. I am sure that should be very, very frightening on many levels. But it was such a great experience, it seemed easy not to think about that little detail. Modern, clean, friendly, well-organized. The couple traveling across from us was from Paris, traveling to their weekend/summer home in Provence (yes, I was slightly jealous). They were kind enough to assist when I ran into a rough patch translating what the conductor was trying to tell me when she came around to punch tickets. (The Rosetta Stone program did not adequately cover train terminology, obviously.) They were also wise enough to bring food from a gourmet market in Paris for the train trip. When they realized Susan and I were splitting a bottle of water and sandwich au poulet et aux legumes (chicken and vegetable sandwich) - purchased in the train station - they offered us one of their beautiful salad nicoise and some of their eclairs. Just so we didn't seem totally without provisions, Susan and I broke into our box of Laduree macaroons as an offering.



Avignon was not my cup of tea. I am sure I will hear from some of you who disagree, but it was a little "creepy" as Susan put it. The meal we had was expensive and bad and not really what I would call French cuisine. The bread was even bad, for goodness sake! Aside from a few historical structures, it seemed totally over run with tourists. Actually, I am not sure I would describe them as tourists so much as, perhaps, loiterers? It is hard to describe. But I am hopeful that our hosts will take us back before we depart to show us a side of Avignon we may have missed.



Philipe and his 9-year old son, Maximus, picked us up at the hotel this morning and transported us to Domaine Valmouriane in St. Remy de Provence. St. Remy is about 12 miles south of Avignon and the Alpilles Mountains run just to the north. It is the birthplace of Nastradamus and is where Van Gogh lived when he painted his famous "The Starry Night". It is a beautiful area with a warmer climate than Paris. Although the temperature is probably more than 80 degrees today, it feels cooler due to the mistral, a cool, dry regional wind in France that blows from the north or northwest and accelerates as it pass through the valleys of the Rhone and Durance rivers to the coast of the Mediterranean Sea. Nice in the summer, but it can mean quite cold temperatures when it passes through in winter. Philipe's wife, Marianne, is great and they have been wonderful hosts so far. Our "light" lunch of melons, vegetables, and homemade sorbets (apricot, cocoa, and raspberry) was one of the best meals yet. All of the produce is local and the olive oil was produced just down the road. Everything is organic and very fresh.






We just returned from dinner and, my goodness, the food is exceptional. The cuisine of Provence differs somewhat from what one finds in Paris where meals are prepared with emphasis on cream and butter. The cuisine of Provence has a Mediterranean influence and is much like what you find in Italy where olive oil is used far more than butter and a lot of vegetables are used. Fresh fish is also a common protein in main course dishes. Our meal opened this evening with an eggplant "caviar" with tomato coulis on top, served in a shot glass-sized container. Our appetizer was the best dish I have had since I arrived; shrimp, lobster, and white asparagus pieces in a light tomato-fumet sauce inside a puff pastry shell. I have photos of this one! Our entree was grilled sea bream on a potato "hash" with a small portion of carrot puree and diced eggplant. THEN...a cheese course where three small servings of cheese were presented - all local. Dessert was a licorice semifreddo with a mint syrup, all on a delicate coconut-shortbread biscuit. Now, those of you who know me well know that there are two things I do not eat: 1) mint, and 2) licorice. THIS, however, was just exceptional and did not actually taste of LICORICE. And the mint was not peppermint, it was just a lovely, fresh, delicate mint syrup. I am sorry I cannot show photos of the entree and dessert. By the time those were served, the dining location was full of people and I had to weigh my options: take photos with an iPad and hope everyone realized I was writing a food blog (a stretch) or take photos of the food with my iPad and look like I was taking my first trip outside of Arkansas. I ordinarily do not worry too much about what others might think in these situations, but I did have Susan's feelings to consider as well.



The one cultural difference I am still struggling with here is dinner hour. As we all know, my ideal dinner time is 5:30pm but I can live with 6 or 6:30 if my dining companions prefer it...and I have been known to agree to 7pm if I am a guest in someone's home. But starting a meal at 8pm - when you know it is going to last 5 courses and 3 hours - is tough, especially on my 53-year old digestive system. In Paris, I just walk to dinner and back home with an extra mile thrown in. In Provence, it would be a dark and treacherous situation if one chose to take a walk at midnight with this hilly, rocky terrain.






I am off to market early tomorrow morning with the chef. After enjoying two of his scrumptious meals today, I am really looking forward to cooking with him and learning from him!