I shouldn't have gone in . . .

Ugh! Our last day in France and we stumble on a brocante in Miramont de Guyenne. It was open so we took a look. I WANTED EVERYTHING!!!

Unfortunately there is zero room left in our luggage after two weeks of souvenir buying so we had to pass on the oyster plates and the vintage casserole dishes, even the blue dessert plates with the hand-painted European robins. We passed on everything except:

This vintage wine crate, which (amazingly) just fits into Joe's suitcase, so it's going to live in Jamestown.

Pessac-Léognan

Some of my favorite French wines come from this region just outside the city of Bordeaux. Wines here are made from Cabernet Sauvignon, Merlot, Cab Franc and Petit Verdot (red) and Semillion and Sauvignon (white). This is typical throughout the Bordeaux region, with the one main difference being that the soils on the left side of the river--mostly gravelly--differ from the soils on the right side, which is mostly sand and limestone, so grapes behave and taste differently from one side of the river to the other.

In Pessac-Léognan, which is on the left side, the red wines are heavy on Cabernet Sauvignon, with smaller percentages of the other three. The thing about Cabernet is that I typically don't like it at all--especially if it's from a warm climate like California, but here in the P-L region the cool temperatures make for wines with a lot of natural acidity, lower alcohol and bright freshness. 

This was evident in our tasting at Domain de Chevalier today. Our guide, who in his email told me he'd only have 30 minutes to show us around because they had professional tasters coming, ended up spending nearly two hours with us and gave us one of the best wine tours we've experienced. Remi Endange is the G.M. of Chevalier and has worked there for some thirty years. His, and that of the owners, goals are to create a product using the magic formula of weather, soil and vine--and little else.

Everything at the winery showed an amazing respect for the land and a passion for innovation. For example egg-shaped fermentation tanks allow the grapes to circulate on their own, eliminating the need for human intervention to stir up the juice and give it more contact with the skins. They even commissioned a French cooper to create the ultimate aging vessel--an egg-shaped oak barrel!

After an hour of touring the beautiful facility, we went to the tasting room and experienced what we both agreed was the best red wine we've tasted in years. It's admittedly pricey at between $80-$100 US for a bottle, and I'm not even sure I'd buy it at that price, but what we tasted today was an incredible combination of sustainable farming techniques, innovative winemaking ideas, perfect weather and proper aging. All of these in harmony to create a little magic. I feel I know now what an incredible Bordeaux wine tastes like.

Our second wine visit was to Chateau Pape Clement, which is named after the Pope who was from the Bordeaux area and was Archbishop of Bordeaux before becoming Pope. The chateau is a lovely classic Gothic structure with all manner of turrets. 

The grounds are stunning too. Inside, the vast fermentation and storage rooms were like a showplace--chandeliers, stained glass and religious art gave the winery a cathedral-like feel. Our tourguide was great. 

After the grounds and facility tours, she handed us over to the staff in the tasting room who guided us through six different wines made by vineyards owned by the same owner as Pape Clement. Two were from Provence, one from Sauternes, one from the Medoc. Happily, we were allowed to try the famed grand cru classé Chateau Pape Clement, but that was the only wine actually from the region we were visiting. I was irked by that. Still, the Pape Clement was quite good--it should be at $135 per bottle, but I didn't taste anything else that excited me.

The radish sandwich

Don't knock it till you try it! 

Good bread + good butter + French sea salt + sliced radishes = yummy! 

Thanks Sharon for your idea!

Quick! I need shoes!

Zut! We are invited out to dinner at Ken and Mimi's house and I realized I left my good shoes in Italy. They are under the bed in the house in Castiglione d'Orcia. Oh well. I can't wear my battered Sketchers to dinner. So . . .

I went to a shoe stall in the outdoor market and picked up a cheap pair for 10€ to get me through the trip. Works for me. They look pretty good for 10€!

Perhaps I will leave them here in case I have another shoe emergency.

A Monday drive

This morning was the weekly market in Duras. We toddled down to the market square to provision for the final few days of the trip. A couple of fresh goat cheeses from Stephanie, a beautiful head of Batavia lettuce, some carrots, turnips and a leek went into the bag. I will use those as a bed for my stuffed pork roast, which we'll cook tomorrow night. Our butcher is closed on Tuesdays so we have to think ahead and buy it today.

After the market we took a ride to the Roman-era town of La Réole, about 25 minutes west of here. It's a lovely town along the Garonne river that was formed around an ancient Benedictine abbey and cathedral. We walked through both and enjoyed the ornate metal work, ceilings and pretty plantings. The stained glass in the vast cathedral is exquisite, but I couldn't get a good shot of it with the sun streaming in. 

After La Réole, we drove to Sauveterre de Guyenne, a pretty little bastide town in the midst of the Entre deux Mers wine region. The town is adorable and there were lots of little shops around the arcaded square. Unfortunately, many were closed on Monday. We were getting hungry so popped into a casual restaurant called Tosca, wher we split a pizza and a salad. We loved the way the dishes came to us--already split on two big pizza plates--ready to eat. The pizza was topped with creme fraiche, mushrooms, duck breast and ham--fantastique!

On the route home we spotted a tourist sign for a medeival village and turned in to see what was there. Well, the tiny village of Castelmoron d'Albret was dripping with wisteria, roses about to burst forth, and so many wildflowers like borage, which is one of my favorites, but Joe gets mad when I grow it as it's very invasive. So what?

A couple of cute boys were playing in the square--no adults in sight. They wanted to show us around. We didn't understand them, but the littler one took us to the bumper of an old car where a nest of baby birds was peeping. We watched and clapped for their bicycle and scooter stunts.

We spotted a pottery in the village--the only commerce in town--but it was closed with so many beautiful pieces in the window. Nuts! There was a rack outside of canning funnels in perky colors. I have a yellow plastic one that I've used for years and thought I'd replace it with a new ceramic one. There was a slot in the door so I took the funnel and left the money on the honor system.

The flower market and my sidewalk garden

The array of annuals, perennials, shrubs and trees turned the village into a kaleidoscope of color. It was hard to choose what to buy to put in the pots and window boxes at the house.

After some time and a few thoughtful walk-arounds of the offerings, I made my selections and we walked them all home where I started my planting.

Around the bottom of the fig tree I planted last year, I put three Hidcote lavenders. In other pots went geraniums, marigolds, zinnias and a purple variety of ice plant. I added new sage and chives, called ciboulette here and all turned out great.

While we were planting, a couple came up to say how good it all looked and it turned out they were native French from this region, but have been living in New Jersey and Connecticut for many years. We had a great talk and I hope to run into them again.

Mon petit jardin est jolie!

Vide Grenier et Marché aux Fleurs

One of the main reasons we scheduled our trip to France this week is that we wanted to catch the annual flower market and antiques fair in Duras today.  It's such fun to wander the streets picking up treasures, bringing them home then doing it all over again to be sure we didn't miss anything. Of course there was a lot of junk to be sorted through on the antiques side, but I was able to augment my collection of pichets as well as pick up a few new treasures.

Here's what we scored today: 

Two large blue pichets taking up the whole sink, ready to be spiffed up:

A new collection of hand-painted country pottery from various areas of France:

The green bowl in the center is a berry colander and the gold vessel on the left is an old flask. The loops on the sides are designed so a rope can be attatched and then you'd carry the vessel cross-body style while on a hike (though it's a little heavy for that). The big chunky pitcher on the right was the bargain of the day at just 3€.

A set of heavy copper sauce pans:

Two exquisite majolica plates: 

I wanted to hang the copper pots on the iron hooks in the kitchen and was ready to get the rickety stepladder out of the attic when Joe came up with a great idea--the old broom handle method:

Here they are all clean and perfect in their new spot:

Market day in St. Foy la Grande

This area's largest weekly marché is in the town of St. Foy. I've been to this one before with Luisa W and today was Joe's turn to take a trip around the great sights and aromas.

The first thing I had to buy was a bunch of these stunning multi-colored tulips, sold by a charming young couple who were embarrassed to be included in my photo.

We found beautiful thick white asparagus and fresh fava beans, called "feves" here. Some shallots went into the shopping bag too. At the butcher's stall we found tiny whole quails stuffed with foie gras, which we'll eat with the pavé de volaille, which are packets of chicken breasts, stuffed with sausage and wrapped in bacon. The woman who sells the petite goat cheeses was there so we bought two for our lunch.

I'm going to be cooking up quite the feast tonight. Bon appetit!

For Don Weinberger

Cute little car show in Duras today. Unfortunately it started to rain so the guys were all sitting inside the cars while the dripping spectators ogled these vintage beauties.

Triumph Stag with right hand drive.

Our favorite: wine delivery truck!

One man's trash . . .

Okay, so in the end, after three days of bagging up and throwing out, the house was nearly empty, but there were some treasures to be kept.

Blue enamel soup tureen:

Vintage mezzaluna:

Oil painting: 

Pastel:

Tuscan ceramics:

Our new house, part two

On Tuesday morning the team of junk haulers showed up about 8:30 ready to give it heck. Joe and I were still rummaging through closets, drawers and trunks, pulling out more things for the heave-ho pile. The best we can figure is that the grandfather died about six years ago and noone ever bothered to ckean out the house. His sweater and jacket were still hanging by the back door. His toothbrush and shaving equipment were still on the sink. His shoeshine kit was in the cupboard near the stairs.  So many things--once so useful and required--now in plastic sacks on the floor.

While the junk haulers did their thing, Joe and I headed into the garden to begin the work there. Such a lovely and peaceful spot, neglected since Nonno fell ill and couldn't care for it. The olive trees are too tall--missing some years of regular trimming. The grapes are a crazy tangle over a mish mash of pergolas made from old plumbing pipes, broom handles and door trim. The grass is a foot tall.

The two of us pick some jobs. We buy a string trimmer and Joe cuts the grass. I buy a kneeling pad and weed between the patio stones. I grab my clippers and start trimming the grape vines--removing anything that goes off in the wrong direction. We get out a ladder from the shed and get up on the old pergola to trim vines there. It's a tremendous amount of work and we're getting too old for this stuff, but there is a point after a couple of days when the yard is neat. The patio is free from weeds. It's a blank canvas ready for us to make it even more beautiful.

We find some old rickety steps at the back of the property. I climb up and discover a large terrace at the base of the travertine cliff that the ancient castle is perched upon. I verify that it's part of our property--it is. It looks over the garden, but also has far reaching views across the Val d'Orcia in one direction and out to Montalcino in the other. It's a magical spot to be transformed into a place to savor sunsets someday soon. I find a dead hedgehog there. It bothered me for a minute, then I realize I have hedgehogs in my garden. How cool is that!

Our new house

It's been a week since I left home for our vacation in Italy and France, but this is the first time I've had a chance to sit down in a quiet place and put my experiences into words. For those of you who've been waiting for a peep from me, I apologize, it's just that I can't remember a time I've been so busy--or so tired.

At this moment I am sitting, feet up in my living room, with a glass of rosé in Duras, France. It's quiet here. The neighborhood kids just ungrouped, stopped bouncing balls in the street and (yay!) headed home for the night. Joe and I enjoyed an array of fresh local charcuterie and goat cheese from the butcher down the block. Now he's upstairs on a conference call and I am staring at the 6 by 9 screen of my iPad hoping to get my thoughts down before they leave me. We have no further plans tonight and I am fine with that.

Last Monday morning, we visited the new house in Castiglione d'Orcia. This was Joe's first visit and naturally I hoped the house would charm him as it had me a few months ago. But, sometimes things don't go as well as we hope. The house visit was a disaster. The former owners left it full of garbage, bad smells and endless piles of junk. Joe hit his head on a doorway, then later hit his head going down the stairs. We left there heading to the Real Estate closing very disappointed and upset.

During the car ride, Debora called the broker/owner to tell him the condition of the house and he quickly sprung into action to hire a team to clear out the mess the next morning at his expense. Still, first impressions are so important and this one had been blown. 

Before the closing we were invited to join the broker as well as the sellers of the house for lunch at the lovely La Grotta in Montepulciano. Unfortunately our disappointment over the condition of the house cast a fog over the lunch. Still, we enjoyed hearing about the history of the place, including that the seller Signora Fiorella Giomarelli (great name!) was born in the house 70 years ago and the property goes back to her great grandfather, though it could have been in the family even longer than that. The first floor, we learned, was originally an oil mill--a frantoio--where the locals brought their olives to be pressed. 

After lunch we went to the closing, handed over some big checks, and said goodbye. The sellers were emotional to be saying arrivaderci to their Nonno's house and took pictures of all of us together. 

We bought two big boxes of large trash bags and spent the rest of the afternoon and evening back at the house--our house--bagging up crap. By 10 o'clock we were exhausted and starving and doubted we'd find anything good to eat, but the little cafe at the foot of the castle was still lit and serving food. We ate this with some good local wine and felt like we'd gone to heaven.

We brought bed linens and towels from the other house and spent the night at the new place.