Restaurant Prevot

Our internet service is up and running, and just in time for me to tell you about last week's excursion to Cavaillon for the annual melon festival. For those of you imagining this event has something to do with France's policy regarding toplessness on its beaches (they are pro), those aren't the kind of melons I mean. Perv.

This festival, held in the Provençal village known for having the best melon in all of France, features tastings, cooking competitions, open air meals and stands selling every type of melon-based product imaginable. Also on the schedule was the honor of "best melon" being bestowed upon some lucky cucurbitaceae (yes, people here take it seriously enough to know the fruit's family name) by the honorable Chevaliers of the Order of the Melon of Cavaillon (no kidding).

Melon cocktail with choux pastries, mushrooms

Unfortunately, however, we got some faulty information and arrived a full day before the real festivities were scheduled to begin. So we missed all of that stuff. We did have an unforgettable lunch at the spectacularly famous Restaurant Prevot, though. Jean-Jacques Prevot is known throughout France (further, even, as I've seen articles about his restaurant in English magazines as well) for his haute cuisine approach to the humble melon.

Deep-fried melon and melon crumble

He first began experimenting with different ways to prepare melon thirty years ago, and it took twenty-five before his ideas really caught on, an anecdote he shared with us when he came out to our table to say hello and even pose for a picture with us. People in Cavaillon thought he was crazy for suggesting that a melon might be baked or fried or served in any fashion other than sliced into wedges. He stuck with his vision, though, and his lifetime devotion to the melon is evident in every corner of the restaurant, where his sketches and paintings of melons hang on every wall and melon-shaped knick-knacks cover the surface of every shelf and sideboard.

Lobster and melon soup

The real attraction, though, was the meal itself, to which I can only hope that my description will do justice. Even the rolls were in the shape of melons! Photos of each course of the meal can be found under "Photos" at right.

We started with a melon-flavored cocktail called Mélanis (buy a bottle to take home!), served on ice with a melon ball floating on the top. This came with mushrooms sautéed in garlic and olive oil and tiny choux pastries with thick-cut smoked ham skewered on top of them.  

Next arrived a savory melon crumble topped with minced guinea hen and a deep-fried melon accompanied by a tiny snifter of caramel sauce. Then we enjoyed cold melon soup with a melon ball and black sesame seed salad, which tasted as though a splash of the aforementioned melon alcohol had been added.

Jean-Jacques Prevot and Johann

Then came the big guns: melon and sea bass layered and served upon a hot stone with a melon seed sauce and a side of steamed green and yellow zucchini with ginger. And in case you thought you had seen it all, lobster and melon soup baked inside a Cavaillon melon with a flaky crust on top.

Dessert was a trio of melon delights, including a slice of melon sautéed in vanilla and rum, fresh melon slices surrounded by raspberry mascarpone and a melon macaroon surrounding a scoop of homemade melon sorbet.

Needless to say, Restaurant Prevot lived up to its well-deserved reputation for serving fresh, delicious, totally original dishes. Bravo, Jean-Jacques. On behalf of these two diners, thanks for sticking with it. We can't think of a better way to celebrate the virtues of melon and after this lunch, we didn't feel bad about missing the festivities at all.

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Dear France,

Listen, we have to talk. I think that we both know that lately, things haven’t been going so well. Now, don’t freak out. We’re not breaking up or anything.

I still love your gourmet cooking, your affordable but delicious wines, your fine weather, your enchanting scenery, the sound of your beautiful language… And it’s the little things, too: the straw baskets women bring to the open markets to carry home their produce, your perfectly buttery croissants, the way you refuse to embrace Crocs (which, let’s be honest, are the ugly bastard shoe children of those 80s jelly sandals and the clog).

But there is a problem, here, so I suppose I should get to the point. I just don’t feel like you’re making an effort in some pretty sizable aspects of our relationship. Internet service, for example. Now I’m sure you are aware of the importance of the internet in our daily lives, unless you haven’t picked up a magazine or read a newspaper since the day before the internet was invented. And, as you know, we haven’t had internet service for THREE WEEKS now.

Yes, I admit that upon calling Wanadoo for service, a technician did, in fact, turn up at our house and attempt to diagnose the problem. And having lived here for nearly five years and being familiar with the Wanadoo way of doing things, I didn’t really expect that his visit would result in our service being restored. So don’t accuse me of having unrealistic expectations. But here’s the thing: after he left the house, not only did the internet not work, but our phone was out of service, too. So the Wanadoo guy not only didn’t fix anything, things were actually MORE BROKEN when he left.

A week later, my phone rang and on the other end was a man from Wanadoo who said he was calling to ask if my home phone was working. DUDE, YOU'RE CALLING ME ON MY HOME PHONE!!! "Yes, it's working," I said politely, adding under my breath, "Idiot." 

Now, can you blame me if I “wanna do” something drastic like burn down their corporate headquarters?

Yes, yes, I realize that the fact that I’ve blogged this to you means that I have access to the internet at this very moment, but that is only because I am sitting in the only establishment within 30 miles of my house to offer free Wifi service. And it’s a McDonald’s. MCDONALD’S!!! That’s the best you can do? In fact, I’m not even going to give you credit for that, since it’s an American company and all.

And you call yourself the birthplace of the Age of Reason? Shame on you.

So here's the deal. You need to get it together. I know how you hate ultimatums, but if I don’t see you make more of an effort, here, I’m going to think about seeing other countries. Modern countries. Technologically advanced countries. Countries like Japan or Germany. 

The ball's in your court, France. 

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Cindy, Ed, Johann, Daryl and Tom

Last Sunday, as we were recovering from a wonderful week spent in Spain with some of our favorite people in the world (Ed, Cindy, Daryl, Tom) I was reading the book that Ed lent me and came across this:

"The things that we ought to care about in life have been overlooked. We think we ought to care about money, status, success and all the other markers of how the world sorts out its winners and losers. But, in truth, everyone knows that these are not the things that really matter. Instead, we ought to enjoy the only life that has been given to us, with its simple pleasures of play, laughter, music, games and fellow-feeling."

Barcelona

That is so true. And given how perfectly our time spent in Spain with our friends illustrated this point, I was inspired to write a different sort of account of our trip. So instead of a story about the places we went and the things we saw, I'm providing you with a list of other things I know to be true.

Team photo

Barcelona is a beautiful city, even in the rain. When traveling with a group, renting a house with a pool is the way to go. Sometimes the aquaduct is farther away than you'd think, in spite of what the map says. Made-up games are fun. Rules committee meetings for made-up games are also fun. Being in charge of taking minutes at rules committee meetings for made-up games is fun, too. if you put down your beer, the other team really should give you a minute to regain your equilibrium before recommencing play. That's only fair. 

Tom and the fairies

If you broke a sweat crossing it, it wasn't the Maginot Line. It's easier to forgive your GPS for giving you bad directions if it has a voice and accent like Judi Dench's. If no one catches you wandering around their estate and peering into the rooms of their house, it's not trespassing. A cool guide is the difference between a good winery tour and a great winery tour. It's not impossible to consume an entire bottle of Cava all by yourself. Getting used to eating dinner around midnight is not as hard as it sounds. If you download the movie, you don't get that annoying anti-piracy message.

Catalonia vs. Argentina

Rain or not, once you're in the water, you're wet, man. As long as it's not the doctor who gets injured, it's okay. A pretty girl looks lovely no matter what she wears, even when she's "U.P. formal." If you're starting to have feelings again, it may mean you're sobering up and need another sangria to keep your blood alcohol level at "ambient." Pink Floyd and The Chipmunks are two separate groups. The Renault Megane Scenic is only a car for seven people if one of them doesn't have any legs. You don't need to care about who wins or even about sports itself to have a good time watching F.C. Catalonia play Argentina.

Tarragona

Putting tiny jeans on mice would be a hard job. For it to be considered a long-term relationship, it has to last longer than stuff you have in your fridge. It's a good idea to have fewer White Russians than you actually want. It's totally possible to get a delicious, generously-portioned, three-course, gourmet meal for €18. Eighteen euros is worth somewhere between twenty and four thousand dollars. You may not think you're the sort of person who would balance someone on your shoulders in the middle of an ancient Roman monument for the sake of a funny picture, but then again, you might surprise yourself. Good friends don't care if you get defensive about Black Sabbath. A cookbook doesn't have to be written in any of the languages you speak for you to use the recipies in it and for them to be delicious.

The rain in Spain falls where it likes, but it doesn't ruin your day when you're amongst friends. More pictures are at right, under "Photos."

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Wedding day

Happy anniversary to us! Tonight we raise a glass to six wonderful years of marriage and reminisce about our wedding day.

Lots of people tell you that your wedding day will be the happiest day of your life. But as great as that day was, even then we suspected that our happiest days were still to come.

We were right.

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Arc de Triomphe

How many days would you have to spend in Paris before you were really ready to go home? It's more than five, I'll tell you that. Especially when you're the guest of your loving and generous parents, who are putting you up at the gloriously posh Sofitel Trocadero Hotel.

Walking distance from the Arc de Triomphe, our hotel's central location made it effortless to get around, while the sumptuously decorated interior made it hard to leave the premises. The interior of the elevator was lined with panels of an antique Louis Vuitton steamer trunk. And then there were the beds. "Oh yes, the beds!" Johann's Parisian friend Yannick enthused, when we told him where we were staying. "You just want to get inside them and live there. Goodbye, world. I live here now."

Rodin's Thinker

As tempting as that was, we pulled ourselves away to enjoy the sights. We visited the Rodin museum and garden, which featured an exhibition of the works of Camille Claudel, whose work I wasn't familiar with, but whom I liked right away. One of the first displays featured her answers to a Proust questionnaire, which was a popular party game at the time, encouraging lively conversation. She had me with her answers to the following questions:

What qualities do you look for in a man? Obedience to women.

What do you consider the lowest depths of misery? To be the mother of many children.

Gloria Steinem would be so proud.

Pompidou Centre

Other stops on our tour of the city included the Pompidou Centre and its rooftop café, Printemps department store and its rooftop café (important to take advantage of rooftop views in Paris whenever available), the Xian Terracotta Army exhibit, the Arc de Triomphe, Luxembourg Gardens, Café Procope and an insanely expensive dinner at Le Relais du Parc, whose chef trained with Alain Ducasse.

The Metro

Johann keeps saying that the list of places we haven't been in Paris is getting shorter and shorter. If we ever see it all, though, I intend to go back to the beginning and start again, one long weekend at a time. 

Please check out the rest of our Paris pics at right, under "Photos."

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St. Croix

Wow. I'm really behind, aren't I? I haven't even posted a coming attraction in over a month! And I'm afraid this post isn't going to make up for it much, at least in terms of length and detail. But I did want to let you know about Lac de St. Croix, where Johann and I spent the day Thursday.

The lake was created in 1975, when a dam was built over the Verdon river, creating this large and lovely body of water noted, like a high-quality diamond, for its exceptional color and clarity. Surrounded by mountains, the lake has abundant hiking trails, beaches, picnic areas and opportunities to participate in water sports from kayaking and canoeing to sailing.

St. Croix

The village of St. Croix is aware of its tourist appeal but has retained its authenticity, scoring points in the categories of lovely restaurants with lake views and in lack of tacky souvenir shops. But since a picture is worth a thousand words, I'm going to let my pictures do all the talking here. More views of St. Croix are at right, under "Photos."

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Isle Sur La Sourge

Attention all shoppers! Do you love the smell of commerce in the morning? Can you shop and never drop? If so, a visit to Isle-Sur-La-Sorgue is for you. This little village, just 45 minutes from our house is comprised almost entirely of (pause for dramatic effect...) ANTIQUE STORES.*

Isle-Sur-La-Sorgue is home to 300 permanent antique dealers, that number swelling to 500 during the antique fair that attracts sellers from all over the world every August. But don't worry, non-shoppers.** There are plenty of non-commercial diversions available, in addition to the multitude of lovely bars, restaurants and cafés that make perfect meeting points after a day's shopping.

Isle Sur La Sourge

This charming medieval town is built on the islands of five branches of the Sorgue river, earning it the nickname "the Venice of Provence." Even without gondolas, water adds a special beauty and character to a town. Sorgue has many river branches and canals, huge overhanging plane trees and several large, lovely waterwheels. Even if the many mills are no longer working, some of the waterwheels still turn.

Isle Sur La Sourge

Sites to see or visit: 300 antique stores, Parc Gautier, Baroque church Notre Dame des Anges, rare collection of Moustier faience. Also, magnificent mansions have been converted into art galleries, in particular the famous Maison René Char - Hotel Donadeï de Campredon (18thc.), now a museum exhibiting such great artists as Miro, Mauguin or Dufy and a display area dedicated to René Char.

Leisure activities: Market on Thursday and Sunday mornings, hiking, horseback riding, tennis, 18 hole golf course, fishing, kayaking.

Cultural events: Summer fêtes and music festivals.

More pictures at right under "Photos."

* Tanya, I can almost hear you packing your suitcase as I type these words.

** Al, this refers to you.

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Asparagus gratin

I've been in a bit of a slump, writing-wise, lately. So after more afternoons of fruitless web surfing and vacant staring out the window than I care to count, I decided to consult an expert for some inspiration. My friend and neighbor, Jan, is a former editor of the London Daily Mail, a newspaper so influential in Britian that its power has been equated to that of a cabinet minister's. Now a French resident, she has a pretty sweet deal. Whenever inspiration strikes (or she is a little low on cash), she calls a friend of hers who works as an editor at the paper and pitches him a story, which he always agrees to both print and pay her a big wad of cash for. This is clearly a woman who can teach me a thing or two.

Naturally, she doesn't like to give away her best ideas for free, but we are good enough friends that she doesn't mind suggesting story topics that she isn't planning on using herself. And this was one of them: "Why not write something for the food section on Asparagus?" Asparagus? "Did you know that Pertuis is known for having the best asparagus in all of France?"

Three types of asparagus

I did not know that. 

But now that I knew, did I care?

I decided I did. After all, it's quite something to discover that a village just one town over has the best something in the nation, even a nation as small as this one. It would be like someone in Brookfield learning that New Berlin makes the best curly fries in Wisconsin, or someone in Hartland discovering that Oconomowoc is home to the state's finest Taco Bell, or a Chicagoan... Actually, this doesn't really work with Chicago, where residents consider anything within the city limits but north of Irving Park Road so far away that it may as well be part of Canada and therefore not worth knowing anything about.

So anyway, I set out to discover what's interesting about asparagus. And here's the verdict: Not much. But I'll let you be the judge of that. Here are some asparagus facts my research has uncovered:

• The English word "asparagus" derives from classical Latin, but it was once known in English as sperage, from the Medieval sparagus, which is from the Greek aspharagos or asparagos, which is from the Persian asparag, meaning "sprout" or "shoot." Still awake? Or did I lose you?
• In parts of Texas it is referred to as "aspar grass," a fact that I find comical, but not surprising, given that it's Texas and all.
• There are three kinds of asparagus: Green, white and wild (the last of which is well-known for its risqué spring break videos).
• Asparagus is prepared differently all over the world, but is most commonly steamed and served with a bit of Hollandaise sauce.
• Hollandaise is a Dutch word and sauce, but it sounds and tastes better when someone French is in charge.
• Asparagus rhizomes and root are used to treat urinary tract infections as well as kidney and bladder stones. Yummy!
• It is also believed to have aphrodisiacal properties (see aforementioned videos).
• Some of the constituents of asparagus are metabolized and excreted in the urine, giving it a distinctive smell.
• Recent studies suggest that every individual produces these odorous compounds upon eating asparagus, but that only about 40% of individuals have the genes required to smell them. No mention was made of who was in charge of smelling the pee or what had prompted them to choose such a career, which, to me, would have been the interesting part of this anecdote. But it did have the side effect of making me feel grateful to be an unsuccessful writer rather than a successful pee-sniffer. 

Asparagus at market

So there you have it, my non-article about the humble (and perhaps deservedly so) asparagus plant. Sure, I may have wasted the good part of a morning researching and writing this, but at least I wasn't playing on the internet or putzing around the house... Or working with urine. On the downside, though, it is unlikely that anyone will pay to read this. Unless each of you agrees to mail me a dollar. Then I'll be the one with the sweet deal. And I'll consider this slump officially over. 

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The Provençal Colorado

This year's guest list is shaping up into quite the all-star roster. Johann and I are looking forward to seeing every single one of you! And uniquely this year, many of you (Erin, Francesco, Leah, Reynald, Daryl, Scott, Nozomi, Kelli) have never visited us before. Of course some of you (Mom, Dad, Al, Tanya, Ken) have been to Provence before and are well familiar with the area.

Rustrel Château

But for the sake of all our valued guests, I thought I'd give you a preview of what's in store for you here. Of course, you're all aware of the charms of Provence; the rolling hills covered in grapevines, the fields of golden sunflowers, the smell of lavender wafting in the breeze, the hillside castles around every bend, the sumptuous cuisine and the incomparable wine.

But the region has much more to offer than a first glance might reveal. For example, take the ochre deposits in Roussillon and Rustrel. Just 30 minutes or so from our door, it is as if one has left not only France, but Earth itself, as the former quarries resemble a moonscape more than anything else.

The Provençal Colorado

Both sites are protected national parks and are accessible via sometimes steep but always breathtaking footpaths. In Rustrel, the River Doa has cut a gorge into the ochre, earning it the moniker "The Provençal Colorado."* With hiking paths from 1 km-5.5 km. and elevations ranging from 10-150 metres (30-500 feet), the area is perfect for hiking.

Sites to see or visit: Provençal Colorado, Ochre Trail, 17th century chateau, 9th century ruins of the Prieuré St. Julien, St. Roman Church, Chapel St. Roch.

Leisure activities: Hiking, cycling tours, man-made lake, fishing and pétanque.

Cultural events: Summer festivals and jazz concerts.

Rustrel

 * Right now, my friend in Colorado is reading this and thinking, "Yeah, right. Where are the slopes, man?"

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Me by the sea

I'm counting on you not remembering the little something that I posted about this festival two years ago. Oops. If you had forgotten, I guess I just reminded you. Anyway, this is admittedly a re-run, but I should amend my earlier critique of the sea urchin by adding that since 2006 I have actually grown to like them. So I hope you enjoy this old story with its new pictures (more photos are at right).

Platter with sea urchins

In Carry le Rouet, the first three Sundays of every month are dedicated to the Fête des Oursinades, or Sea Urchin Festival. The Sea Urchin is truly fascinating. Teams of guys head out at two in the morning, decked out in wet suits and scuba diving equipment (I admit, I am only assuming they are guys because I think women are too sensible to do such a thing, but it could be that there are some crazy chicks out there as well). In groups of three or four, they brave the bone-chilling cold of the February waters and collect each sea urchin one by one, from the bottom of the sea, by hand. Then, around sunrise, if they have not frozen to death or had their hands run through by the prickly needles of the oursin, they return to the shore with their catch, presumably to be greeted by loved ones crying, "What the hell have you been doing? Are you out of your mind?"

Oysters

Only the French would go to so much effort and devote nearly a month of Sundays to honor such an ugly, spiky sea creature. Apparently, this porcupinie-like mollusk gets its name from the Old Englilsh word for "hedgehog" and is like catnip to food connoisseurs, especially when served in Japanese cuisine. So, once again, the French taste buds are the explanation.

Musicians

What I can't figure out is how someone first determined that there was something to EAT inside this gruesome-looking thing. Maybe the first guy to try one was a fisherman who caught it by accident and figured that if mother nature was saying "stay away" with such vehemence, she must be guarding something pretty good. That's debatable, in my opinion. Have you ever been swimming in the ocean and gotten a mouth full of sea water? When it happened, did you think to yourself, "Wow, if only that had had the consistency of ketchup, it would have been quite good?" If so, then sea urchins are for you.

February swimmers... brr.

I think what probably really happened is that this fisherman's friends all dared him to eat it. It's likely that they wheedled and cajoled and offered him money, finally pulling out the big guns and calling him a sissy. Then he ate it and "Tom Sawyer-ed" them, pretending like it was the best thing he had ever tasted. He probably went on and on about its delicate, exquisite flavor until, intrigued, his friends begged to try one for themselves. Then, rather than spitting it out and looking like chumps in front of the other fishermen, they pretended it was great, too. So then more people tried it and pretended to like it, and so on, and here we are today with an entire festival full of people slurping them down and trying not to make a face. That's my theory.

The port at Carry le Rouet

But you don't have to like sea urchins to enjoy the festival, which features stands selling everything from quilts, pottery, jewelry, flowers and artwork to olives, pastries, candied apples and cotton candy. The port is wall-to-wall with restaurants featuring super-fresh fish and seafood dishes and in February, on a sunny day, it's even warm enough to enjoy your lunch outside. It was not, however, warm enough to swim, though we did see six completely insane people giving that a go. There's also a scenic path that winds along the coast, offering opportunities to lounge on the rocks that line the shore, watching sailboats drift slowly by.

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