Le Paradou, Provence, France:  Part Deux

The greatest advantage of our location is just that.  The location puts us exactly where one would want to be. Within easy reach are the major historic cities of Provence, the wineries and the quaint small villages that dot the landscape.  We couldn't ask for more.  This morning, as we are apt to do most days, a walk to the patisserie-boulangerie about 2 minutes away, is in order.  Freshly baked bread, croissants, and if we are really lucky a  Sacristan.  This little stick like pastry, is so.... well, I can't provide a description that adequately conveys the taste.  Trust me you would like it.  So does everyone else.  The bakery is a beehive of activity from 7.30 until 11.30 each day.  As I walk up the street, I can see a parade of people doing the same.  I need to walk faster, maybe I should run?  There is a small line of locals queuing in the shop, several people are milling around the spattering of tables in front....quietly sharing the daily gossip as they eat the spoils of their morning purchase.

I am in line, bobbing my head up, down and across, trying to get a peek into the shop. I can't see the prize.  I am too late, wait, there it is... nirvana!  My turn to order.  I panic, blurting out my desires in English.  The entire place comes to a stand still. All eyes are on me.  Who is this infiltrator that has come to steal our daily bread? I quickly restate my order in French. ( I have been practising all morning to say the 5 word sentence with perfect diction)  "Bonjour, deux baguette s'il-vous-plait!
 It comes out perfect.  The stand still is averted.  I point to the Sacristan and take two of them as well.  The first bite happens before I cross the three feet to the exit. My God, this is good.  The second bite happens shortly thereafter.  I get back in line to order another one as it will be mere seconds before this one is gone.  I am so glad we don't have a patisserie like this at home.  I would become a Sacristan addict.

We enjoyed another fine wine tasting yesterday which morphed into a fabulous lunch. The winery is the one we missed during our last tasting adventure.  The Chateau d'Estoublon is a large estate about 2 kms for our house.  In addition to some fine wines they produce olive oil.  We tasted all they had on offer.  The reds were exceptionally good as was the rose.  The restaurant nestled in the trees, in the shadow of the estate, was called "Le Bistro Mogador".  We had a delightful three course fixed menu with a bottle of Rose. This is also the site of a famous french TV series "Les filles de Mogador". Johanne, of course, is all over that!

A nice farewell lunch for my parents who we will deliver to Marseilles tomorrow morning. 

Johanne and I are going to the beach from the airport.  Not the beach in Marseilles, we are going to revisit an old haunt in Cassis.  A seaside village about an hour south of Marseilles.  We took the slow road along the Med to enjoy the beauty of the waterfront.   For the record, Marseilles is the second largest city in France, after Paris, and by far the largest and most important French city on the Mediterranean.  Throughout history, this port city was the centre of French trade, the most significant connection to markets to the south, east and west and the entrance to trade with throughout the north of France.   It is fair to say that the French Empire strength emanated from this port through much of the 18th century.   The area was first settled 30000 years ago.  Evidence of palaeolithic cave paintings can be found in the caves near the claques of Morgiou.  This natural port became a battleground for many years.  As virtually every culture took a turn in government.  The Romans had the most success.  Some very interesting laws were passed during the Roman era.  Among them was the forbidding of women to consume wine, and permission, via a vote by the senate, for a citizen to commit suicide.  Today I could find no evidence that the woman of Marseilles have embraced the no wine law.... and who can blame them.  

  

One place of interest is the Chateau d'If seen above.  This small island situated a mile of shore in the Bay of Marseilles was made famous by Dumas and his book the Count of Monte Cristo.  The fortress turned prison plays a lead role in the story.

Cassis was packed, as it should be on a perfect sunshine day.  We wanted to visit the calanques(rocky beach, clothing optional) that we had enjoyed back in 2000. As we made our way through the narrow winding roads, we couldn't help noticing the number of people walking in the same direction.  We could not go quickly, in fact, the walkers were making better progress than we were.  At the key junction in the road, we are stopped and informed that there was no parking available at the nude beach.  We would have to walk the 3 kms if we were to reach our intended target.  We responded with just the right amount of snobbery,  we were not headed in that direction.  Look at us....a couple of grey powered, card carrying CARP members! How could he think such a thing?  We then asked him to come closer so we could speak privately, figuring we could convince him that our plan merely included a drive by of a favourite spot from our more physically fit years...that we had no intention on staying.  To which, he responded with a big smile and a wink and suggested that we park in the city and simply go by on foot.  "The pictures will turn out much better" he says, while laughing and bidding us adieu.

The family beach was packed.  The water clear and inviting, at least it was to look at.  Once you set foot in it... it was a much different story.  Chilly would be the word. Thank god it is not a nude beach...shrinkage if you know what I mean.

We enjoyed a leisurely afternoon before heading back to Le Paradou.  Tonight is a big night.  We have managed to get a reservation at the Bistro de Paradou, a Michelin Guide recommended restaurant.  Can't wait.

 This 300 year old farmhouse is under the direction of Jean Louis and Mireille Pons, transplants from nearby Arles.  We tried for many days to get a reservation only to be told NO.  It seems that the regulars check the menu each week and reserve well in advance for the menu they like.  You see this restaurant only serves one "four course" menu each night.  Directed by what is in season.  If you don't like what is on offer on any given night then it is best  you don't come.  There will not be a second choice.

 After a considerable amount of negotiation (some would call it begging) we were squeezed in.  Sort of ....that is! We were given exclusive use of the patio.  Not a big sacrifice.  It was a lovely night, not too cool and our table was situated beneath some ancient oak trees next to the perfect example of Provence architecture...the farmhouse.  We were in food nirvana.  As we got settled in, the locals started to arrive.  A family of 6, a group of three men, 4 friends, two mature couples etc.   All seemed to be very familiar with each other, not so much as starting conversations among the groups, more like an acknowledgment of arrival.  I see you....me too. They all do the traditionnal 3 times kisses on the cheeks (Parisians now are doing 4 so if the group is large, the first arrived are finished dinner by the time the last kissing session is over!) Eyes glance at each other then converge on us.  Clearly, we don't belong.  We are acting aloof, sunglasses still on, in spite of the dwindling light, we are doing our best French Parisian accents, well Johanne is, I repeat the four french words I know I can fake with some level of confidence.  Everyone settles on the patio for pre meal drink and about 10 smokes each...must get the taste buds suitably tarred before the four courses of Michelin rated ecstasy.  Our waiter starts us off with some local olives, oil and bread.  He asks if we want Rose, Blanc, or Rouge for wine.  Johanne chooses Rose, I the Rouge.  Two bottles arrive. We look a bit surprised, the waiter informs us that wine is included with tonight's dinner.  Should we need more... not a problem.  You just have to love France!  The locals head inside, they seem pleased or relieved that we are relegated to the garden.  If you have read Peter Mayle's book, " A year in Provence", you will understand the time investment required to be accepted by the locals.  It might never  happen.  It's OK with me as long as I get to eat!

The first courses:  Roasted eggplant with an amazing vinaigrette of fresh herbs, olive oil and lemon.  The tomato puree was so mouthwatering, bursting with flavour.

 Johanne had the foie gras ravioli.  The cream sauce was so smooth and silky, you could eat it as a soup.  The foie gras just melted in your mouth.  We were sharing our plates so we could experience both tastes.  It was really hard to give one up to get the other.  In the end, both were sooooo good, I want to go back there right now.

 Rack of Lamb, Garlic mashed Potatoes. so light you just know there are no calories in them.  Local foraged mushrooms.  Best ever!   Period.

 OK this is the part that was over the top.  The cheese plate arrives.. 14 different perfectly prepared French marvels.  The waiter just leaves the tray...these are for you, enjoy.  We did.  All 14 of them.  More wine please!! One can't have cheese without wine.  The locals are starring, I think they like us.

Desert was so good I forgot to take a picture.  Creme Brule and an Apple tart.  I could eat here every day.  The locals are all back out in the garden with us.  They like us...I can tell.  Of course it could be the smoking.  They have to be outside to do it.  With the day fully complete, we bid our waiter good night and walk back to the house.  Thank God we are only a few hundred meters away, the wine is taking its toll!  A great day.

Be Well

Sante