Southern Fried French

A Peek Into the 'Poubelle'

We be stylin': a matched set in trendy orange at the vide grenier this  past week

You could learn a lot about a person by peering into their poubelles (trash cans), their attics, their junk rooms, their garages.  Which is why I have an eternal fascination with the French marché des puces (flea markets) and vide greniers ('empy attic’ sales: think garage sales, on steroids).  As my friend Darlene says of the vide greniers, “It’s mostly junk, but it’s great because it’s French junk”.  

The French throw NOTHING away, they practically invented recycling.  So every cracked old dish, every small appliance that's broken and totally beyond repair, every sad doll missing her hair and maybe a limb or two, lands in the vide grenier.  And while the French are known for having great style, as you go deeper into the countryside that style becomes quirkier--and as different from American style as can be. I find many fun things to buy, but then...there are the other things.  Poking around at the markets is a real education about how the French live and the stuff they choose to live with.  

So what do the vide greniers reveal about the French?  I’ll let these photos speak for themselves. 

Small dead animals on proud display

A little something in red, most illuminating

Romance, beauty, femininity, detail

Brass chicken feet.  One can only ask---why?

Umm...you'll have to draw your own conclusions from this one

The French, toujours  proud and confident

In the COMMENTS:  The Almond croissants seem to be the drool-worthy winners from last week's pâtisserie post.  Suzanne has found something called bagelcroissants--only in America.  Christine, great trip ahead!

Our Reader's Blogs: Veronique at A French Girl in Seattle looks at French movies this week. And  Don't miss her previous post on the iconic Repetto ballet slippers, featuring Carla and BB. Katie at French Cravings tells all about her cooking class with Patricia Wells in Paris, we are simply vert with envy.

French Pâtisserie Lust

Good Morning!  Are you hungry?  Then come with me, we're going to hit a French boulangerie and maybe a pâtisserie or two. I can't pass one without stopping for a treat or a photo.  Then we'll settle in at a café to scarf down our haul with an expresso.  C'est le bonheur!

  

We'll start with a bagette.  Split it and slather it with butter and raspberry jam for a breakfast tartine.

Next up: a croissant perhaps?  Or--quelle surprise!  An American doughnut snuck in.

 

My personal favorite:  almond croissants.

 

Now on to a pâtisserie for dessert...

 

Plump meringues, pink praline or regular, and les bugnes to tempt you.

 

 

Fat little pigs.  That would be us at this point.

 

Favorite Reads: If you want to tour Provence and go beyond the worn path where tourists tread, get a copy of Provence: A Country Almanac, by Louisa Jones. The book is organized by the seasons, and she talks of country retreats, ancient music, wine festivals, beautiful chateaux, even local herbal remedies.  There are evocative photos and even a few local recipes tucked in.

 

In the COMMENTS: Linda's reminising about Lyon, Liza and Helen are both headed that way, and Mary James has another Lyon restaurant recommendation, at her blog Mary James en Provence.  Robert has an a French iphone app for us. Frank, bon voyage!

 

 

 

 

THE Hot Restaurant, in the Hottest Food Town

Lovely Lyon is about an hour down the road from us.  It’s tempting to describe Lyon as a smaller, more manageable and walkable Paris.  But if Paris is a romantic and flirty seductress, Lyon is a colorful character that you immediately want to get to know better.  The main part of the city is a peninsula, so rivers surround you, and one bank is a dramatic and steep hill, topped by the ornate wedding cake that is Notre-Dame-de-Fourviere.   The old buildings that line the banks of the Saône and the Rhône are a palette of fruity, glowing colors-- soft peaches, pinks, and golden hues.  And Lyon has a reputation that even Paris might envy:  it is the gastronomic capital of France.

Not long ago I wrote a travel article on Lyon for France Magazine, so of course I was forced to go on a culinary pilgrimage to seek out the best restaurants.  The way-hot restaurant du jour was a place with a quirky name,  L’Ourson qui Boit  (The Drinking Bear Cub).  The chef, Akira Nhishigaki, is Japanese and the cuisine is Asian-French fusion.  And the placed was booked for months---even this journalist couldn’t get a table.

So this time, returning for a bit of shopping,  we planned ahead and managed to get in for lunch.  L’Ourson qui Boit is an unassuming little place on a drab alley off one of the big, pretty places on the peninsula.  The decor is nice but simple, as is the Japanese way (loved the opaque, tobacco-hued acrylic armchairs, with seats out of pure white sumptuous leather: yin and yang). The service is cheerful and efficient.  The menu changes daily, with only two choices for each course. 

Want to test your restaurant French?  Here is what we ate.  A translation is at the end of the post (by the way, I've copied the menu exactly as they posted it.  So Readers, if you want another challenge---do you see mistakes in the French?):

--crème froid d'épinard au frommage ricotta avec saumon fumé et rillette du saumon

--suprême de pintade fumé, salade haricots vert au noix de cajou, vinagrette de mangue

--filet de cabillaud, purée de tomate au vinagre de framboise, crevettes ciselée, fleur de colza, courgettes et carottes concassés

--joue de porc confit, sauce de Gari (gingembre sucré salé) au Yuzu (cédrat), sauté de champignon et de chou frisés au lardons

-crème caramel au thé Earl Grey, soupe de fraises, glace chocolat blanc

The menu prices were quite astonishing:  14 euros for two courses, 17 for three.  About the cost of lunch at your average Lyon brasserie, and this was complex, exciting food of the first order.

Of course I was alert for something that could be replicated at home, and I think one could get very close with that fish dish.  What follows is my best guess!

 

RECIPE:  Le Poisson comme L’Ourson qui Boit, ou Presque ( The Fish from L’Ourson qui Boit, or nearly)

Have some cooked shrimp, peeled and sliced, on hand. Make a  simple, fresh tomato sauce (preferably using your best summer garden tomatoes).  Bake or poach a morceau of a firm white fish.  Meanwhile finely chop some carrots, sauté until nearly done then add finely chopped zuchinni and cook until both are done. Divide the tomato sauce among shallow bowls.  Give it a splash of rasberry vinegar and drizzle with good olive oil. Add the fish. Top with the vegetables, then the shrimp. Sprinkle it all with thinly sliced toasted almonds.  Now how could you go wrong with that! 

 

MENU TRANSLATION:

--creamed spinich with ricotta cheese, smoked salmon, and salmon rillettes (salmon puréed into a spread or mousse)

--Smoked guinea hen, thin green beans with peanuts, mango vinegarette

--filet of cod, tomato purée with raspberry vinegar, sliced shrimp, rape flowers, finely diced zuchinni and carrots

pork cheek confit (preserved or marninated in fat), Gari sauce (sweet and salty ginger) with Yuzu (citrus), sautéed mushrooms, kale with chopped bacon

--Earl Grey tea crème caramel , fresh strawberry soup, white chocolate ice cream

 PHOTO: Chamber of Commerce building in Lyon

 

In the COMMENTS:  Everyone seemed to love Lin's guest post last week about her life in Valbonne, and some of you have traveled there.  She even got invited to aperos at Lee and Maureen's house! 

 If you'd like to read my article on Lyon from France Magazine, you can find it here.

The Best Little Bookshop in France--straight from Texas

Today, a guest post!  While visiting my favorite Mediterranean town of Valbonne last month, I stopped in a darling English bookstore.  It turned out the owner, Amercian Lin Wolff, is one of our readers. Lin's own story was so interesting that I asked her to share it with us.  

Not a week goes by that I don’t think of my high school French teacher’s warning, “You’ll never know when you might need to speak French,” to her bored class of young Texans struggling to get their lazy tongues wrapped around the simplest of French vocabulary – Oui! (Wah!) Non! (Nowh!) Je m’appele (Gee mapple… ) Most of us struggled and lost the battle. I lasted one semester. And now I find myself having lived in France for over 10 years, still struggling with my “toddler” French and terrible accent. But every day is a joy, every day is a learning experience, and almost every day reinforces my faith in humanity, particularly the French kind.  Watercolor of her shop by Lin's dad, artist Hunter George.

I own a little English bookshop in the south of France, half an hour from Nice, 10 minutes from Grasse, and with a constant view of the Mediterranean.How did a little girl from Houston end up here? It all started with leaving Texas for Los Angeles as fast as I could and falling into jobs for National Geographic and Disney, then meeting my future husband, Marc, while we were both on location in Tahiti. Marc has managed to turn his flying experience in Vietnam into a successful career of flying for films – you’ve probably seen his work in everything from the Star Wars films to the latest James Bond, SKYFALL, and if you’re watching the opening ceremonies of the Olympics this summer, you’ll catch his involvement in that, too.

I traded L.A. for Marc’s flat in London and then the Cornish countryside . We started our family there and lived happily for 13 years, until the rainy winter of 2000 when I began to dream of living somewhere warmer, drier, sunnier and a colour other than gray. So, we joined old friends here in France the following summer and after the move Marc and I each took intensive month-long French immersion courses in nearby Villefranche. His already good French became excellent, while my non-existent French became toddler French.

Having discovered an adorable English bookshop in nearby Valbonne, I tended to hang out there among beloved books, chatting to owner Jill, and other ‘refugees’ taking a break from the intensity of mangling French. When I finally worked up the courage to ask if she ever needed the occasional help, Jill put me on her list of ‘fantasy booksellers.’ I’d never worked in retail, didn’t know how to work a cash register or a credit card machine, got the shakes when counting out customers’ change, but she kept me on anyway.

And after 5 years, Jill decided she wanted to sell up but not having much luck finding a buyer. We’d just bought a little lake house in northern Vermont, where I was planning to spend some quality time enjoying a very different sort of life from my French one, especially as the kids were going on to university and I could finally have my very own timetable. However, I just couldn’t imagine life in my corner of France without this bookshop, so I said yes to it (quickly, before I could change my mind) and have embarked on a very different sort of adventure ever since – accounting, taxes, employee benefits ad nauseum, all in French! It’s never dull, my French is improving, slowly, and my admiration for the French continues, unabated.   Photo below:  the main square in Valbonne.

As for advice regarding the learning of the language, I’d say LEAVE YOUR EGO BEHIND! Don’t worry about how you sound – just try! Nothing pleases the French more than someone who is really trying to learn their language. And persist! Don’t let responses to you in English deter you from continuing to try in French. Keep at it! My husband is the world’s best at stubbornly sticking to his French during an otherwise-English conversation. It helps him – he always learns something new. And I always show my pleasure in being taught better vocabulary by helpful strangers. It’s a connection – and often a shared laugh.

 

Favorite Reads:  Felicitations to our reader, author Karen Chase: her book Bonjour 40: A Paris Travel Log (40 years. 40 days. 40 seconds.) has won three eLit Awards. A silver medal for best travel essay non-fiction book, silver for best book trailer, and a gold medal for best author website. The eLit Awards is an international awards program, focusing on e-books only, and open to all e-publishers. To celebrate, she's putting the book on sale with Amazon, B&N and iTunes for 99¢ for the month of May. Especially since it's the one-year anniversary of her 40th birthday trip to Paris that inspired the book.

Let Them Eat (Salmon) Cake

The big dispute: Which sassy French queen uttered those notorious words?  Not this imposter. My friend Queen Joan, dressed for a medieval festival at the château, with me as her lady in waiting.

Cake is a tricky word in French. Just look at the trouble that Marie Antoinette got into.

Let’s sort our pauvre Marie first of all. The consensus is that she never uttered these words; they were spoken by either the wife of Louis XIV or a Tuscan Dutchess, perhaps a hundred years earlier. And the offender actually said ‘Let them eat brioche’, which at that time may or may not have meant a rich egg bread, or may have been the scrapings from the baker’s oven, or may have been a bread named after brie cheese. Well, we’re not going to get bogged down in that debate.

I myself got crossed up with the word 'cake' the first time I made a skillet of southern cornbread to serve to Pierre. I like to spring new things on Pierre, he’s always curious, and willing. When he tasted it, he said, “Mais, c’est  ‘cake’! (But it’s cake!).

Since the French word for 'cake' is gâteau, I assumed Pierre was sprinkling his French with an English word, which he occasionally does. Was my cornbread too sweet? Did it really taste like dessert?

Mais non. Pierre was in fact using the French word cake. It's another one of those dreaded faux amies. Cake in French is a savory loaf, a cake-like bread, which usually has meat or fish baked in. Confused now?

I’ve been served French cake several times since, usually with apperatifs. I’ve always found it to be a dry, boring affair, to be avoided. That is, until I tasted le cake of my neighbor Pascale. Tender, moist, fragrant with smoked salmon, it is a lovely thing to serve as a nibble with a nice glass of French Burgundy.  Call it what you will, let us all eat cake, it's delicious.

 

RECIPE:  Pascale's Cake au Saumon Fumé

When I made this I couldn't believe how yummy, and easy, it was.  Since it's translated from the French it will help to have a  Kitchen Scale (you'll need one anyway if you're in the US, all recipes seem to be headed toward weights, as they are in Europe), but I measured things out for you as well.

• 3 eggs
• 150 grams flour (a scant 1 1/4 cup)
• 1 tablespoon baking powder
• a generous pinch of salt, and fresh ground pepper
• 100 ml (scant 1/2 cup) vegetable oil like canola or sunflower
• 125 ml (1/2 cup) warm milk
• 100 grams  (4 ounces) grated cheese, gruyère or swiss
• 150 grams  (about 5 ounces) smoked salmon, chopped
• 3 tablespoons chopped fresh chives

Pre-heat oven to 350F (180 C).

Beat the eggs, then stir in the flour, baking powder, salt and pepper until combined.

Pour the milk and oil together then add gradually to batter, mixing until it's smooth.  Stir in the cheese, then fold in the salmon and chives.

Pour the mixture into a buttered loaf pan and bake for 45 minutes. (Check early, though; my oven was running hot and mine was done in 35. Also French loaf pans hold the same but are longer and narrower, which may reduce cooking time).  It should be nicely browned on the top.  Cut into slices and serve, warm or at room temperature, with a glass of white wine.  It also makes a nice starter or a light lunch if you serve a slice with a little arugula salad on the side of the plate. I'm guessing this will freeze well, I've just thrown half of my loaf in the freezer to see.

 

By the way:  want to know my new favorite cooking tool?  My iPad ! In addition to a lot of great cooking apps, I've got all my favorite recipes set up as document files, many with photos too.  I just cut/paste them from the web or type them in. Then I have them on my computer, and on my iPad to use while I'm in the kitchen cooking, and they even sync to my iPhone. A bit time-consuming to set up but I've done it a recipe at a time, here and there, over several years.  I love having a personal, portable, mobile cookbook.  

Favorite Reads:  My friend Audrey brought me a copy of Le Road Trip: A Traveler's Journal of Love and France .  Can't remember the last time I've read such a clever, witty, personal book.  It's a picture book too, full of author Vivian Swift's whimsical water colors from her journey.  It's going on my gift list for friends.

In the Comments:  Another great (mis)translation from Mary James, which shows the danger of relying TOO heavily on your dictionary!  And see Mark's comment if you want to follow up on the problems (for both us and the animal) with eating  factory raised meat and egss.

News Flash!:  TODAY at The Daily Basics magazine:  They are featuring my article on my favorite painters who do wonderful scenes and landscapes from France and Italy.  Don't miss it!  

Psst, Want a Little French Sweetie Thing?

At brasseries you will very often encounter what is called a Café Gourmand for dessert.  And whenever I see it, my dessert order is decided.

As you probably know, the French don’t eat dessert with coffee; they order coffee at the end of the meal.  We’ve grown to like this custom, and adopted it.

There’s one delicious exception to this rule. A Café Gourmand comes on a plate with an expresso at the center, and three or 4four small bites of different desserts.  It’s less than a full dessert, but it’s a very smartly dressed coffee. 

Recently we were at the brasserie 'Les Deux Frères' in Aix-en-Provence, that famous spot in the middle of the action on the Cours Mirabeau (pictured) which is surely the best place on earth for people-watching.  There was a Café Gourmand on the bi-lingual menu, and their English version inadvertently summed it up perfectly:

“Café Gourmand-- L‘assiette de Café Accompangé de 4 Mignardises:    Gourmet's Coffee with 4 Little Sweetie Things.” 

Gotta love that translation.  The Little Sweetie Things in this case were:  a pistachio mini-macaroon, with a dollop of whipped cream; a bite-sized piece of a many-layered chocolate cake; a tiny chocolate covered ice cream bar; and a sliver of a baby apple tart.  Miam, miam.  I regret to say that a photo opp was lost, as I scarfed it up in a flash.  

I thought this would be a fun idea for company.  Who doesn’t love four desserts?  Or even for your family.  Sweetie Things for your Sweeties!

 

RECIPE IDEA:  Café Gourmand with Little Sweetie Things

When I made this for guests, I did one homemade Sweetie Thing and filled in with easier bits.  A morsel of any dessert will do, but I made these super easy chocolate macaroons to anchor one corner of my plate.  For the others, here are some ideas:  a tiny scoop of ice cream, a slice of fruit or a berry with a mint leaf, a dried apricot with a pecan in the center, a truffle or other chocolate, a bite of a store-bought pound cake, tart, or  a cookie, or one of those little ice cream ‘bites’, like Dove bars.  On the plate, an expresso or just strong coffee in a small cup is fine. Below is a recipe to try for your Café Gourmand, or for any cookie emergency which might arise.  Photo: Café Gourmand with  a carmamel mousse, cookies, and a bite of fresh fruit with mint.

RECIPE:  Chocolate Coconut Macaroons in a Skinny French Minute

This may be my most requested recipe, and my easiest.  I’ve been making these nearly forever (the recipe is from a newspaper ad for Baker's chocolate, probably before some of you were born).  I’ve tarted up these rich, chewy macaroons with a cherry on top, which makes them pretty for Christmas, too.  By the way these are not fancy little sandwiches that the French call macaroons.  We'll tackle them another day when we're feeling courageous.

4  one-oz. squares unsweetened chocolate, chopped (113 grams)

14 oz bag (400 grams)  flaked sweetened coconut

1  14 oz. can (400 grams) can sweetened condensed milk

2 teaspoons vanilla

about 10 marachino cherries, each cut into 4 pieces

Melt chocolate on stove over hot water or in a medium bowl in the microwave, on lowest setting. This may take a couple of minutes but check it often, you don't want it too hot.  Add condensed milk and vanilla, blend. Mix coconut in thoroughly , until there are no white specks remaining. Drop by teaspoonfuls onto well greased baking sheet (or better yet, line it with a Silpat Non-Stick Baking Mat), 1-inch apart.

Bake at 350°F (180C), for about 10 minutes. Cool slightly before removing from pan.

 

Favorite Reads:  From my window I can see sheep and cows grazing, but our factory agricultural system is not so bucolic.  I've started reading Just Food: Where Locavores Get It Wrong and How We Can Truly Eat Responsibly.  James McWilliams gives a global perspective of the coming food crises and our 'broken' agricultural system.  You might want to read the article that got be interested in this, Is an Egg for Breakfast Really Worth This?  by Nicholas Kristof  for the NY Times.

Our Reader's Blogs:  We always seem to be ordering One For The Table, which is also the clever name of Amy Ephron's blog about the intertwining of food, politics, and love.  You'll find recipes and much more: this week Michael Tucker shares his dreams of Umbria.  Over at A Woman's Paris, Barbara Redmond is featuring a series for students looking to do a gap year or internship in Paris. This week you'll get the scoop on how to find the best places to stay.

If you're planning a trip to Burgundy's Côte d'Or wine region around Beaune, why not make the charming village of Pommard your home base.  Our reader Carolyn rents out her lovely apartment there.  You can see it at 3 Clos de Pommard.  

 

Moonlighting Strangers

There is the sun and moon

They sing their own sweet tune...

Moonlighting strangers

Who just met on the way

--from the ‘Moonlighting’ theme, by Al Jarreau

Painting:   Bridge and Two Houses by Tom Vieth

Once upon a time there was a school teacher and an engineer who lived in Pittsburgh.  One day The Engineer’s boss said, we’re sending you to France for nine months to help our French division in Burgundy sort out a problem.

The Girl from Pittsburgh spoke no French and had no dreams of living in France.  She went to the internet and she googled “Americans in Burgundy”, which took her to Southern Fried French, and an email address.

“Help!” she wrote.  “They’re sending us to some place called Tournus, do you know it?”

And it happened that Tournus is the nearest big town to the château.  So I spoke to Nicole and Pierre about them, then I wrote back and told her the best thing they could do was to come live at the château.  And so they did.

Tears were shed by all when their year of adventures ended, but they left us with beaucoup des souvenirs.  The Girl from Pittsburgh wowed us by making the world’s longest baguette sandwich (10 feet!) for our French class, along with her visiting friends.  She taught me to make some mean chicken enchiladas.  She made us laugh the day she became a sassy shepardess and herded a flock of sheep with a golf umbrella, after they escaped their field and took over the château driveway.  The Engineer amused us with stories of the cultural criss-crosses he encountered in supervising his French colleagues.

They taught me that you could take a thing that wasn’t your dream and shape it into something that happily changes your life just the same, by sprinkling a little American spirit on it.  And they reminded me of a lesson I learn again and again, that an unexpected pleasure of blogging and following blogs is that you connect with, and sometimes meet, folks from all over whose paths might never cross but for shared thoughts on a wide web of many bridges.  So thank you all, dear readers, friends, and fellow travelers. Life is sweeter since we met on the way.

 

You can read more about Belinda and Mark’s experiences---she kept a blog while they were at the château--at Sixty Steps in the Turret.

Favorite Reads:  In the intriguing category, spotted on a bookshelf down south:  The Provence Cure for the Brokenhearted: A Novel,  about a woman who lost her husband and travels to a stone house in Provence known for it's mysterious healing powers.

In the COMMENTS:  SO interesting to hear what our readers, expats and others, have to say about their definition of 'home'.  And Patricia, the French word for 'cozy' is indeed douillet.  Per my French teacher, Nicole, it means cozy in the sense of a warm fuzzy blanket, for example, but would not be used to describe a home.  For that the French often just borrow our Anglo word 'cozy' for themselves.

Our Reader's Blogs:  Head south with Mary James en Provence.  This week she takes us on a trip to the lovely Carmargue.  And do visit our guest artist's site to see more of Tom Vieth's lovely French paintings.

 

Back in Burgundy, But Where is ‘Home’?

Painting by Pierre Chandelier, courtesy of Galerie Elégance, Mougins, France (near Cannes)

After three months of travel, we’re back in Burgundy this week, which has me in a contemplative mood.  When we moved to France nine years ago, full time and in one fell swoop, I was determined to use the word ‘home’ for France.  Although I love Charleston, I wanted to realign my thinking. For the long or the short term, home was to be in France.

Recently at a dinner party with a dozen ex-pats, and five or six countries represented as usual, the visiting daughter of our hostess starting asking some interesting questions of the group.  Were we all glad we’d moved here?  Yes's all round.  Was anyone thinking of ‘going back’ anytime soon?  Not a one.  OK she said, so where do you consider ‘home’ to be?

The surprising answer:  not a single expat answered that France was ‘home’.  Even a Brit who had spent much of her adult life here and had a French husband and children.

Ties to home countries are strong, in spite of the adventurous spirits of voluntary expats.   Before we came I read something that really caught my attention.  The article said that folks who live in a foreign country for a while never quite feel at home in either country, they will be adrift in that ocean between the two.  You may miss whichever country you’re not in at the moment.  You will have had experiences that the friends/family you left behind can’t begin to understand; and you will have missed parts of their lives as well.  You can go home again, but you won’t be the same person as when you left.  Now that I’ve been here a while, I know that it’s absolutely true.    Photo:  Coming home this week, to the Château de Balleure.

The feeling can be unsettling, but I wouldn’t trade the experience for anything.  Maybe home can be a shifting, expanding place.  It’s where Ron and our cat are, and the people we love and who love us.  We’re blessed  to have those on both sides of the pond.  

A curious side note:  The French language does not have a word that translates to ‘home’ as we know it, despite their unusually strong attachment to their country and immediate family.  Nor do they have a word for ‘cozy’.  Chez nous:  perhaps that says all you need to know about coming home.

Now let's celebrate our home-coming with du vin, bien sûr, and a yummy French nibble to go with it.

 

RECIPE:  Your Favorite New (healthy! easy!) Snack:  Toasted Baguettes Provençal

I've started making these homemade 'crackers', and I can hardly make them fast enough to keep up wtih demand.  Luckily they take about 5 minutes to make.  I'm willing to bet that if you try them they'll become your favorite munchie.  Healthy, too!

Pre-heat oven to 325F (160C).  Slice a baquette, as thinly as you can. If you can find a whole grain baquette it's even better; I normally use un pain aux céréales, which is an oval-shaped multi-grain loaf. Cut slices on the diagonal if you want them larger.  

Brush both sides of each slice with olive oil.  Place them on a baking sheet and sprinkle with some good sea salt and fresh ground pepper.  Sprinkle liberally with herbes de Provence.  Bake about 9 minutes; they should be golden brown and crunchy.  Sample immediately.  If there are any left, store them in a plastic bag.

Other flavors:  In place of the herbes de Provence you could use garlic salt, celery salt, cayenne pepper, chipolte chili powder, or whatever herb that suits your fancy.  You can also rub the cut slices with a cut clove of garlic before adding spices.  They can be used as a base for French tartines, or Italian bruschetta. 

 

In the Comments:  Betsy asks about the immersion school we attended that I mentioned.  Read all about it in my post from 2/11, Staying Afloat When Immersion is the Answer.   RE beautiful walks, Liza suggest the Via dell'Amore in Cinque Terre.  That's not a bad walk either!

Our Reader's Blogs:  Speaking of expats, one busy site is called Survive France Network, where you can get all kinds of useful info from folks who live there.  

It's spring, time to check in on the happenings at Your Garden Show.  I think of this site as the Facebook of gardens, where you can look at other gardens and connect with gardeners.  Also a Q&A show, an heirloom seed contest, a save-the-bees project, and more.  And if you love Paris in the springtime, a good place to start your trip planning is at Diane and Mark's Paris Insider's Guide.  You can subscribe to their Le Petit Journal to be sure you don't miss any Paris scoops.  

 

Grab 'les baskets' for the Most Beautiful Walk in the World

Sure, everyone’s going to have their own opinion about the most beautiful walk in the world.  I’m a lover of architecture, the sea, dramatic coastlines, saturated color, and nature.  This walk is all that.

Every March we spend a month at Cap Ferrat on the Med.  Now I know what you’re thinking.  This is the chic and chichi spot of the Riviera.  Uber-rich royals and celebrities looking for old-world glamour have their eight-figure estates here (as did Hollywood luminaries like David Niven and Gregory Peck). Not exactly our social set. 

But we’ve managed to unearth a small, modestly priced rental house, owned by some natives, with a fabulous view.  It’s in the heart of Saint Jean, the Cap’s central village by the marina, where the housing is more dense, more modest.  And a haven of the rich is a great place to be if you want peace and quiet on the busy Cote d’Azur, plus some gorgeous real estate to drool over as you cruise around.  

All very nice, but the best reasons to stay here  are the Sentiers du Littoral, which begin a block from our door.  These are a series of walks around the Cap that are so spectacular I can hardly find the words to describe them.  But put on your ‘baskets’ (the French word for athletic shoes) and let’s give it a shot. 

Cap Ferrat has tall cliffs which fall down to the sea, and on the top of these steep cliffs are the elegant estates of People Not Like Us.  Halfway down, at the base of their  extensive but often natural tropical gardens where the rock formations begin, there is a narrow walkway cut out of the cliffs and paved with stone. This circless the cap.  Look up and you get a seductive peek of some of those pastelstuccoed, tile-roofed dream houses.  Look down and you see foamy azure waves, breaking dramatically against the rocks.  Look out and you see the perched village of Eze, or the candy-colored town of Villefranche-sur-Mer,  or the top of the highest corniche.  And this might catch your eye: a crisp white mega-yacht or two, languishing in the intense turquoise water of the harbor, or maybe a rustic fishing boat making its way to shore from the open sea.  For me it doesn’t get much better than this.  There is the feeling of being on some wild, enchanted island, instead of on the over-developed French Riviera, and in March you’ll have the paths mostly to yourself.  Climb down the rocks a bit and you’ll have the perfect perch for une pique nique. Photo: the Cap Ferrat lighthouse, along the walk.

There is one leg of the walk which takes you from Cap Ferrat to the town of Beaulieu, less of a hike and more of a wide, landscaped promenade.  Here you’ll see families out for a stroll, bicycles and baby strollers, flâneurs with their dogs.  Photo below: one of the mansions on the hill, this one owned by Bill Gates' former partner, Paul Allen.

If you come:  as you can imagine, you can find the luxe hotel of your dreams here (Grand Hotel du Cap, the Royal Riviera, the Voile d’Or), but in the past we’ve stayed in a well-located little hotel of immense charm, with great views and a reasonable price.  It’s called the Brise Marine and it’s a short stroll to the village and the restaurants.   Our other favorite is the Hotel Welcome, across the bay in Villefranche-sur-Mer.  Better yet, rent an apartment or villa for a week or more.  Shelley Dobyns of http://rivieraexperience.com/  has several in all price ranges which are just perfection.  It’s all a 10-minute drive from Nice, so it’s a great base if you’re exploring the coast.   Just don’t show up in July and August, when toute l’Europe heads for the Med, unless you love the thrill of the crowd.   Photo below:  The walks begin and end In Saint Jean.

RECIPES:  For this week's recipes, cruise over to The Daily Basics to read my article, In for Lunch Out of Time:  How to Déjeuner in Style.  While you're there, do subscribe to The Daily Basics, to stay au courant in food, books, lifestyle, and fashion.  

In the COMMENTS:  So fun reading about everyone's gelato places and flavors:  avocado, green apple, basil/mint, key lime...And Hampton says hand-cranked is the only way to go, unless it's the southern Blue Bell ice cream.

Favorite Reads:  Our reader Mel recommends Bo Thorne Niles' book, Window on Provence: One Summer's Sojourn Into the Simple Life, especially for its "delightful drawings".  The book is a memoir about a New York woman who flees the pressures of the city to spend a month in Provence.

 

Crossing the Border: French ‘Glace’ vs. Italian Gelato

There are good things about living in Europe, and there are bad things.  But here is one good thing, reason enough to come on over and never leave:  The exceptional, wonderful, ice cream.

La glace in France, just like in the states, varies greatly by brand.  I prefer Haagen-Dazs in the states, and in France it’s Carte d’Or all the way.  Haven’t figured out how they do it, but Carte d’Or, the most common brand you’ll find in cafés and brasseries and in the supermarchés as well, is as good or better than Haagen-Dazs with a much lower fat content. Creme brulée is my current favorite, and the caramel au buerre salée (salted butter caramel) is not too bad either.

But the BEST ice cream of all is Italian gelato.  Oh so rich and smooth, with an even lower fat content.  Plus they serve it so beautifully in the shops, all creamy and swirled and drizzled with raspberry sauce or caramel or chocolate, oh my.  To find it you usually have to go to Italy--or the south of France, were it has slid right over the border.

We’re on vacation near Nice, and the gelato shops made me wonder if it was possible to whip up a batch at home. The bad news: you have to freeze it at a very low temperature. The good news: the process for making it closely resembles that for making home-churned ice cream.

For fellow fanatics, here’s how gelato is different from other ice creams:

--gelato is typically made with very fresh ingredients (fresh fruit, milk, cream) and no corn syrup.  

--the fat content averages around 8%, far lower than regular ice cream.  It has less cream, but more sugar.

--commercial ice creams have a lot of air added in; gelato does not.  This makes it more dense, and intensely flavored.

--Gelato is frozen very quickly but it’s made and stored at a significantly lower temperature than ice cream, so it’s softer and smoother. 

In my favorite gelateria in Nice (pictured), you can pick up these cute little desserts for entertaining, in small plastic cups.  Garnished with fruit, they look scrumptious.  And how easy is that?  Let’s try some, made with ice cream and sorbets.

 

RECIPE:  Little Ice Cream Treats, Many Ways 

Just looking at the photo at the top, I see severaI of those little treats I want to try, and I've started by raiding my fridge (this is my favorite sort of company dessert: no recipe required).  OK the ones I made  are not so little, but hey.

I’m thinking these would look great in anything from a martini glass to a short juice glass. As you see in the top photo, some are not even layered, just softened up enough to add other ingredients, then garnished.  I can see some chopped fresh pineapple stirred into softened pineapple or lemon sorbet, or into coconut ice cream.  Raspberry sorbet with chopped fresh berries mixed in, and loads of fresh fruit on top?  Delectable.  The layered lemon-lime ones might be two sorbet flavors, like lime sorbet with coconut or vanilla ice cream.  These are best either not frozen too solid, or well softened before you serve them.

In our fridge right now:  Carte d’or chocolat noir, and there are some vanilla shortbread cookies in the cabinet.  So I’ve made a parfait with those cookies in the middle, drizzled with a bit of caramel sauce. On top, some toasted walnuts mixed with  more caramel sauce stirred in (for Dee's great homemade caramel sauce, see this post from last year). I had vanilla ice cream too, so I mixed that with lots of fresh strawberries and a bit of vin d'orange, which is a homemade orange liquer that a French friend gave us.  What’s in your freezer?  Endless possibilities!

 

Favorite Reads:  Our reader Rachel of the And Then Make Soup blog has read, and re-read, an old favorite, Laurie Colwin's Home Cooking: A Writer in the Kitchen.  Little essays on cooking full of charm and wit:  ‘I am never on a diet regime I cannot be talked out of', says the author.

In the COMMENTS:  Merci for the lovely comments this week.  Virginia, I would love to come to Paris sometime and hang out with you.  Anyone who can come up with expressions like "Well hush my bouche!" is my kinda girl.

Our Reader's Blogs:  Of course we love blogs about the south.  Follow Michelle, a "preppy southern belle" at Southern Somedays.