To Market, To Market

Thursday we woke up at 7:30AM to catch another market in Nyons, about an hour away. So intent were we on getting to the market nice and early that we even skipped our morning ritual coffee and tea, something far harder for me than for Jen. However, being as habitual as I am I feel that I deserve a great deal of credit for this feat.



We arrived shortly before 9:00AM and parking was already getting a little difficult. We were able to duck into a back street and park by a veterinary clinic then walk the remainder of the way into the town center.



We grabbed a quick coffee, tea and croissant at the nearest cafe before starting to tour the market. I asked for a black tea and they brough me Earl Grey, which I thought was odd, not just because I hate Earl Grey tea but because it is a strange assumption to make. It would be like asking for green tea and being served green tea with licorice root added to it. That being said, it was one of the better Earl Grey teas I've had. Having sampled many over the years, I've decided after twenty or thirty of them that it is just not for me. Perhaps drinking the tea with a croissant helped it to be much more enjoyable than previous versions I've had.



The market at Nyons was incredible, far more vast than the market at Gordes and a little more easily accessible, not having to drive through too much mountainous terrain. There seemed to be every bit as much produce, meat and cheese available in Nyons but they also had a much vaster selection of fabrics and pottery available for sale.



Nyons also had a jacuzzi.



And they had this bitchin' beach towel which I considered making my first souvenir purchase in France, but at the last minute decided to give it a pass.



We ended up buying some great dishes from this vendor named Thierry Lionti who does all the pottery (his wife Hélène does the painting). We also ended up talking to him for a while about his work and the markets. Read that as: Jen talked to him for a while while I nodded, having no idea what they were both saying in French without picking up the odd work. I'm afraid my French is limited to leading with bonjour ending with merci beaucoup and finally au revoir while letting Jen fill in all the empty space between, sometimes as much as ten or twenty minutes worth of conversation.

As we left the market it was still early, around 11:30AM, but it was beginning to become overrun with shoppers, and the streets were basically choked with cars. Luckily, with our strategic spot by the veterinary clinic we were able to take a back route out of town while everyone else struggled on the streets as either drivers or pedestrians. So long, suckers!



We returned to Châteauneuf-de-Mazenc early, a little after noon, and made ourselves another lunch out of our leftover goods form the Gordes market. It was still early enough to enjoy it on our west terrace before the sun became too bright.



There were lizards all over the terrace while we ate. I became obsessed and started taking pictures of them. I took 24 pictures of the lizards total. I am sure glad for the digital age because 15 years ago that would have been an entire roll of film.



After our lunch (and of course, our obligatory afternoon nap), we headed out to explore Châteauneuf-de-Mazenc a little more. There was an exposition going on that an artist had created which was a model of the entire town. It represented the entire village and had hundreds of pictures and newspaper articles about the village's history.



We decided to go all the way to the top of hill where there was a church and cemetery. It was a beautiful view from the top of the hill but we were embarrassingly winded from the hike up the hill. It was also embarrassing to pass a woman many years our senior who was making the hike with her dog, both of them showing no visible sign of exertion whatsoever.



When we returned down from the tremendous climb we stopped by a great little artist shop that sold jewelry, pottery and drawings. We couldn't decide on a combination of bowls to buy. There were three blue ones, three with a green and white pattern and two with a yellowish green pattern. After much deliberation we just bought them all. How often does one make it to these parts anyway?



We had dinner reservations at a place called Les Hospitaliers in the nearby village of Le Pöet-Laval. Jen had been making much ado about how our dinner would be in a village perché and had been saying that for the past few months. It is fun to say you are going to eat in a village perché. Don't believe me? Just give it a try.



After touring the little village for a while we sat down at our table to view the menu. We opted for the the menu traditional. It was about a three-hour dinner, which is about an hour outside of my restless stage, but the food was exceptional. For those not interested in food, unable to understand French, or both you may want to skip ahead. Keep in mind that I'm just writing what we had directly from the menu. I only understand about 50% of the words on the menu simply because I went to culinary school and learned from a bunch of crusty old French chefs.

They brought out some almonds, lying on top of some rock salt to start. Jen had the Muscat as an aperitif and we ordered a bottle of the Saint-Joseph, Cuvée Amandine St Desirat C.D.R. on the waiter's recommendation (thank God).



We started off with an amuse-bouche which was a vegetable terrine of tomato and olive tapenade. Our bouches were quite amused.



Jen started with the Tarte fine de longoustines aux tomates confites et tapenade, copeaux de parmesan, huile d'olive de Nyons et vinaigre balsamique.



My starter was the Medaillons de foie gras de canard au Muscat de Beaumes de Venise, chutney de figues et fruits rouges, reduction de Rasteau, toasts aux cereales.



We both had the Filet de lottre rotie, bouillon de crustaces au parfum d'Orient, quinoa aux fruits secs. It was probably the most interesting and least French thing on the menu, having a decidedly Moroccan flavor. I was pretty surprised to see a dish with quinoa in it, particularly seeing that I didn't really read ahead on the menu too much. That way everything was a surprise! I was pretty much only prepared for the main elements of each dish (e.g. foie gras, fish, veal, etc.).



For the main course Jen had the Carre d'agneau roti au romarin, gousses d'ail confites en chemise.



For my main course I had the Emince de filet de veau facon Custine, huille d'olive de Nyons.



For a cheese course there was some sort of exchange in French between Jen and the waiter. All I understood was the word cheese being repeated between them. There was also something mentioned about coulis. A few minutes later they brought out a soft white cheese in a little silver dish with two cruets, one containing raspberry coulis, the other containing heavy cream. I wasn't really sure what it was exactly but I tried pouring a little of each cruet over the cheese and the resulting taste was delicious. The cheese tasted very much like yogurt and the cream and coulis mixed together to make an interesting course. I was so full by this point that I could barely move. I thought to myself, "What a great end to a wonderful meal."

After that they brought out the dessert menu. I didn't want to order any until I learned that it was included in the price of our meal so I figured that we should at least get some dessert even if we were only going to have one spoonful each.



Jen got the Corolle de peche pochee, gratin froid de chocolat, gelee de surreau.



I got the Tulipe de tiramisu et son coulis de rhubarbe, which was pretty much a last-minute decision as I was feeling the pressure of having to order knowing I was both too full to walk and not quite sure what I wanted. Plus I thought that the combination of tiramisu and rhubarb was something I may not have the opportunity to experience again any time soon.



If this wasn't enough they brought out a little dessert plate (which alone would have been plenty of dessert for two people) which had chocolate mousse, a tiny eclair, a little fruit tart and some crispy almond cookies which I have made before but I cannot remember the name of. I know you make the "dough" and then bake it and right out of the oven you can form a shape with it. After it cools it will hold that shape. It's pretty tasty but much more useful on a mechanical level for making interestingly shaped sweet crackers. These, I presume, were shaped by cutting them out and resting them on a rolling pin to cool.



Jen finished with some coffee and, of course, they brought out some little chocolates too just in case we were not sufficiently full at this point.

After that we walked outside where you could look up and see thousands of stars in the sky, something that certainly doesn't happen in New York and something we haven't really witnessed yet due to the persistent cloud cover. I was able to find the Little Dipper, the North Star and Venus and then that pretty much wrapped up my stargazing expertise. As we looked up you could see small objects streaking by the lights on top of one of the towers of Le Pöet-Laval. After a minute I realized they were bats, something Jen was not too crazy about. As we turned the corner leaving the restaurant and hotel area it was pitch black so we had to walk very gingerly on until we approached a dim streetlight ahead and were able to get into our car. We were safe from bats and Jen's worst fear (which is apparently getting bit by a rabid bat and having to explain it to a doctor in French) was not realized.

By the time we got home we had just enough time to lie down on the bed, smear Tiger Balm onto our stomachs and groan ourselves lightly to sleep, knowing we'd overdone it.

Was it worth it? Yes.

Sur La Pont D'Avignon!

Wednesday's adventure began at 10:00AM for Jen with an appointment with a local dentist. I dropped her off at the dentist where she prepared to battle with the rude receptionist from the previous day while I went off on my morning mission.



I spent 1,40€ a liter on filling up the car with diesel. I think this gas station may have arranged to have the sun shining so brightly that it would blind its customers so that they could not see the exorbitant prices. We spent the rest of the day driving around seeing gas for as low as 1,26€ a liter and no higher than 1,32€. Minus one point for La Bégude-de-Mazenc!



Jen got her tooth repaired fantastically by the French dentist when I picked her up. She was delighted by the state-of-the-art office and the great experience, not to mention the extremely reasonable price. It may just be worth the flight over here to get dental work done in the future. Plus one point for La Bégude-de-Mazenc!



We then drove on to Avignon to check out where some of both the real and fake popes used to live! It was a gorgeous city, completely fortified on all sides by a giant wall. The approach to the city looked a little reminiscent to the approach to Warwick, Rhode Island. Luckily when we entered the city center it was much more impressive. Instead of a Red Lobster and some seedy motels, there were beautiful examples of 14th century architecture. Who is to say what is better?



We went down the main drag and had lunch at a little place in the park at the end. Jen thinks that the waitress hated us but I am not convinced: I was too mesmerised by the endless stream of girls who were greeting each other as though they were Sims. They lined up and approached each other in a mechanical fashion, lining up to deliver three cheek kisses and then wave at each other from an uncomfortably close distance. Jen was facing away from all of this so she didn't get a great view of any of it. I, on the other hand, don't think the waitress hated us, I just think she may have been an artificial intelligence and I understand how that can come off as kind of cold.



After lunch we headed back towards the Palais and Pont D'Avignon. Recently Jen had started singing the song, Sur La Pont D'Avignon. She claims to have known this song her entire life. She thought I was crazy for not having heard it before. I thought she was making it up. She was humming and singing it all day. When we got to Pont D'Avignon there was a point where you are lead downstairs into a dark little room where the song, as Jen has sung it, is playing on a constant loop. It's being sung by children then it morphs into a Jamaican version with steel drums, then it switches to a dance number with North African overtones that uses the same tune. I give Jen credit for setting up this elaborate practical joke in such a convincing fashion. However, I am nobody's fool. It's going to take a lot more than that to pull one over on me.

The drive started out okay but as we approached Orange I could see where Orange, New Jersey got its name from. Orange is not quite the nicest place in France. In fact, it is reminiscent of some of the seedier portions of New Jersey. The only difference is that Orange, France has about six hundred times the number of stop lights as all of New Jersey put together. There are some points where you can see eight traffic lights in a row with barely enough room for three or four cars between each. It becomes a never-ending stop-and-go nightmare until, at the very end, you are rewarded with some impressive Roman ruins.



I'd been looking forward to seeing the Roman ruins in Orange since we began planning this trip. While I was made a bit cranky from the traffic I was very happy when we got a chance to check out the Arc de Triomphe from somewhere between 30 B.C and 20 A.D. which represented the conquests of Julius Caesar.



When we turned to walk back towards the car a big ridiculous-looking train pulled up. As the train passed by the driver whipped out a pack of Lucky Strikes and lit one up. The train was repeating some sort of prerecorded spiel in French and English. The French version sounded pretty good but it sounded like the person reciting the English version was being paid to sound obviously bored by what she was reciting. We were tempted to ride the little train but we thought that maybe the English narrations would make us too depressed.



With a little tricky navigation we were able to locate the Théâtre antique d'Orange. According to the audio tour we listened to this was the largest and best-preserved theatre from Roman times. There were two others, one in Turkey and one in Syria, but this one was the most impressive.



The most striking part of looking at this theatre was walking behind the seating and looking out every so often to see the main wall through the entrance to the seats. It was the same feeling of depth you get at any sporting arena you go to when you are walking by the concession area. It's remarkable to think that the basic layout of a building like this remains unchanged over the past 2000 years. The only difference is at these ruins you did not have the option to buy a Bud Light and two soggy hot dogs for $36.95.



After our Roman Ruin excursion we drove back north a bit, back towards Châteauneuf-de-Mazenc. The picture above is the signage that appears that reminds you that you are back in the Montélimar area. Montélimar -- famous for its nougat, as everyone in and around the area will be quick to remind you -- displays signs on the highway to alert drivers of all the necessities available at the next exit: gas, food, lodging, nougat.



When we got home we had a little snack in our back terrace. The melon was delicious and maybe a touch overripe at this point. Wrapped with a little jambon cru it was a great afternoon snack. We also had a local beer that was not Jen's favorite. We got it because it claimed to be blonde but upon drinking it we could have been convinced it was Guinness stout.



After the sun set on Châteauneuf-de-Mazenc we had a quick dinner of leftover bits from last night while lying about reading from Is Paris Burning, Oprah Magazine, and Bill Bryson's A Short History of Nearly Everything while we listened alternately to Hair and Les Miserables through the iPod cassette adapter with the stereo in the apartment. It was a hodge-podgey end to a hodge-podgey day.

But who doesn't like a hodge-podge.

Farewell Dinner, But Thankfully Our Farewell

Tuesday we planned on being out the door by 9:00 and pretty much acheived that goal. Tuesday there was a big market in Gordes that we were told was well worth the trip. It was about an hour and forty-five minutes drive to the market so after a quick tea we headed out to the market.

The drive started out pretty good but there was an old man behind me flashing his high beams at me for one or two kilometers. I got a little angry with the old man because we were in the middle lane with ample space on either side to pass. This lead me to believe that maybe flashing your high beams at someone in France means something different than it does in America where it means: You are slow, I hate you, and I wish a nasty plague upon your family. After finally passing me he just stayed right in front of me doing the same exact speed as me. I concluded that he was just a big jerk.



The view approaching Gordes was pretty nice. We could see the village on the hill in the distance. The driving for this trip was much easier than the trip to Vercors but inside the city it was a little dicey. We parked just outside the main area on a steep hill and walked up to explore the market.



We explored the market for a bit before getting coffee and tea at a little cafe where the waitress was extremely stressed and rightly so. It appeared that she had about twenty tables all to herself and she was running around a bit. I was thinking of asking for the check right away but I was pretty sure that that was considered rude in France. Luckily the waitress was more than happy to do so to get us out of her hair so it worked out really well.

It was also strange but the cafe only had green tea, no other kinds. It was a little weird to have green tea in the morning but somehow I coped. It came with a little cookie so that made accept it with a little more ease.



Gordes was the best market we've seen so far. There were dozens of amazing vegetable stands and a wide assortment of stands selling other things of a more chatche nature. We bought a tremendous amount of vegetables and other assorted items and decided it was lunch time. There was also a gentleman dressed up as a Native American in full headress selling some Native American art and jewelry.



They were also selling a jacuzzi.



And a grill from a company called Smeg.

Around 12:00PM we'd planned to go for lunch at a place called La Pause for lunch on a recommendation but by this point the market was so packed you could barely walk through and we were carrying two extraordinarily heavy bags of produce with us. So we elected to simply pick up a little tart and a great little ham on baguette with lettuce and tapenade for the car ride back. We got back nice and early (around 2:00PM) so it paid off well.



After a brief nap and kick about the place we walked down to La Begude de Mazenc, the village down below Chateauneuf de Mazenc. We needed some supplies for the dinner we were cooking that evening so we picked up a beautiful pork loin and some jambon cru, the only two items we did not have the patience to wait for at the market earlier. We also stopped by the local bakery and picked up some items for dessert.



On our way down to La Begude we walked down the steepest hill I've ever personally walked on in my life. The entire road was lined with wild blackberries. We picked a good amount of blackberries which I wanted to somehow incorporate into our dinner that evening.



It is fitting that on a Tuesday, the same day we generally pick up our farm share, we were able to make another meal with all local ingredients thousands and thousands of miles away. That being said, I think this meal happened to be more local and authentic than any of our past farm share endeavours. Every single piece of food put into this meal (except maybe the salt and the pepper) was from within this country and much of it was local to this region.



The meal also happened to be a farewell dinner for Gregg and Ross, our hosts for the past few days, who were going to Paris before returning to their home in Toronto. Ulrike, the excellent hostess of La Magnanerie, had just returned to take over and everyone was invited.



Before dinner we had some olives we'd gotten at the market along with a green olive tapenade. I was most interested in trying this tapenade because for some reason you never see tapenade made with green olives in America. I can't really conceive of why that is. Is someone out there afraid that green olives are somehow a little too risque for Americans to see in a tapenade even though they eat green olives with more frequency than black olives? Who can say?



We started out with a salad made from the red and green lettuces along with the tomatoes, chives and a simple vinaigrette of olive oil and balsamic vinegar.



With the figs we'd gotten we made a salad with figs, jambon cru, roquefort cheese and I made a balsamic and blackberry glaze that I drizzeld over the salads. The jambon was incredible, far better than any prosciutto I've had back home. It worked out well because I'd gone to the butcher with the intention of buying prosciutto and I settled for this instead. Another thing that it is a shame I'll never be able to find back home.



I was a little nervous cooking the pork because the oven just had numbers from 1 to 10 instead of actual temperatures. It also had a nice rack that slid in and out that you could roast directly on. By the time I'd come around to checking the pork I poked it and determined that it was done. I was second guessing myself so I cut into it a bit and confirmed that it was perfectly cooked which was a pleasant surprise.



The main course was pork loin. I rubbed it with salt, pepper, olive oil and herbs de provence. Then I browned it in a pan before finishing it in the oven at 8.5, roasting it on some chopped fennel and onion. I also made ratatouille and roasted fingerling potatoes that I roasted on the sliding oven rack. For the mushrooms I sauteed a small amount of garlic in butter and olive oil then carmelized the shallots finishing by adding the chantrelles. I finished it with some fresh chopped parsley that Jen had clipped from the herb garden.

We accompanied it with some Domaine du Moulin Cotes du Rhone local wine. It was great and we are considering visiting the vineyard before we head back home, the only problem being the insane restrictions they put on how much of what you can take back home with you. So we may end up having it shipped depending on the price.



I also used the comte cheese and the fresh pears from the market as an after dinner course with a sprinkle of black pepper.



For dessert we had some walnut tarts we'd gotten from the bakery down in the village. They were excellent.

Just as we finished up dinner the rain started and thunder and lightning finished up the evening. We heard that it was supposed to rain today and ruin our trip to the market. We haven't even bothered looking at the weather anymore and, as you can tell by looking at the pictures, our trip to the market was quite rain free.

After dinner we settled back with some tea and read our books as the lightning flashed outside the glass doors to our terrace, sure that it would all be over by morning.