At the time I did not know that stories of life are often more like rivers than books. Norman Maclean The Rhône at Arles is a tidal river, which is a thing that takes some getting used to. There are hours of the day where it torrents northward with a single-minded purpose towards Avignon, like … Continue reading A River Runs Through It…
If people concentrated on the really important things in life, there’d be a shortage of fishing poles. Doug Larson One of the advantages of living in a Provençal town a few dusty turns from the sea – our own personal fishmonger. A neighbor just down the block who has a fishing boat in Saintes-Maries-de-la-Mer sends … Continue reading La Pêche du Jour…
For I have known them all already, known them all:Have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons,I have measured out my life with coffee spoons;I know the voices dying with a dying fallBeneath the music from a farther room. So how should I presume? T.S. Eliot ~ The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock We’ve been in … Continue reading Measuring My Life…
Walking home with Jess and Max after dropping Alexander at school, out the old cloister gates and through the winding cobbled streets redolent of woodsmoke and the scent of baking bread. The rhythmic clang of metal on metal, not mechanical, hand labor, off some distance, but so distinctive you can almost taste it on the … Continue reading An Alchemy of Place…
“An egg is always an adventure; the next one may be different.” Oscar Wilde Maximilien’s latest favorite gouter (snack)? The hard-boiled ovum of Coturnix Coturnix. And whereas he has many of the same food limitations of other four-year-olds, he continues to walk his own path in many respects: He pleads for a couple cloves of … Continue reading Ouefs de Caille
…there’s this cookie in France. More of a cake-like thing, really. About the size of a Madeleine scallop, and made from a similar but less glorious yellow sponge cake, shaped like a bear. Where the paws are, there are dollops of chocolate. It’s called “Lulu l’ourson” – Lulu the bear. It’s nothing extraordinary – it’s … Continue reading Lost in French-lation, Misadventures in French Advertising…
“The Café des Amateurs was the cesspool of the Mouffetard, that wonderful narrow crowded market street which led to the Place Contrescarpe.” – Ernest Hemingway, A Movable Feast Place Contrescarpe Hard to say exactly which of the cafés flanking the PlaceContrescarpe is the one Hemingway referred to as the “Café des Amateurs” or “Café aux … Continue reading Historically Drinking (part deux)
Nature alone is antique, and the oldest art a mushroom… Thomas Carlyle Of all the smells of fecundity, of earth, of whispered dawn, of darkness at a somewhere depth pushing through to light, one of the most binge-worthy of harbingers (in my opinion) is that of mushrooms sautéing in butter, grind of pepper, sprig of … Continue reading Of the dark…
In Paris for a few weeks and travel and corralling kids has left little time for writing an entry, but here’s a picture of an awesome salad… I’m not sure how we originally found Le Relais Gascon. Probably just a stumble upon moment years and years and children ago. We were staying in a tiny … Continue reading A Quick Bite…
“It is chief of this world’s luxuries, king by grace of God over all the fruits of the earth. When one has tasted it, he knows what the angels eat.” Mark Twain – Pudd’nhead Wilson There is a taste of summer. I remember it from my youth. Along with sweet corn, and lemonade, the smell … Continue reading The Taste of Summer…
Chasing Snails (And Other Movable Feasts) 