Month: September 2023

An Appetite for Arles

On By Terry ChristophersonIn Food and drink, Restaurants4 Comments

After five days in Arles I can confidently say that the food here does not disappoint. Well, except for the one time I ordered a small steak cooked saignant, which in the US would be considered bloody rare, thus the name. As is common here, once they hear my accent, she said, in English, “medium”, I replied, “non, saignant”. It came with just a touch of pink, medium-rare at best by US standards. Thanks to the multitude of folks here from the UK, who tend to like their meat cooked well done, the restaurants often try to compensate, c’est la France.

Our first meal was at Bistrot de Pitchounet, located in a restaurant filled square in the heart of old town.

I chatted with the lady in the photo, not only does she work there, but her father is the owner. All of the staff were wonderful, and the food was just as good. I started with a bit of smoked herring, so different than the smoked herring in Norway. This had a much stronger smoke flavor and I liked it better than what I had in Tromsø a few months ago.

My main was tuna steak, just lightly seared, bien sûr.

Saturday we ate at Gaudina, a small place on a narrow street with service and amazing food. For my entree I had roasted eggplant with olive oil, almonds, tomatoes, and parsley.

My main was grilled octopus. As I have said before octopus must be prepared perfectly or it ends up rubbery, when done right the outside is charred a bit and the inside is moist, this was perfect. The sauce had a bit of spice and it was served on the black rice that is ubiquitous to this region. I have no idea what the crispy, golden accompaniment was, but it was delightful.

Yesterday I had a wonderful wood fired pizza at Bistro Arlésien. How can you go wrong with a wood fired pizza? They are one of my all time favorites. This one had ham, anchovies, olives, onions, and cheese with a light tomato sauce. I don’t think anyplace in Naples could do better.

Today, we went back to Le Pitchounet, this time I was able to chat a bit with Nikola, the lady in the photo. We started with oysters, the third time this week we have had them. One of the servers told us about the part of the oyster that they call “the foot”. It is the dime-sized, round disk that is usually left connected to the shell after the rest of the oyster is eaten. I have never thought about eating it. He cut it out with a knife so I could taste it. His description was that it was like a sea scallop, and he was right. Why have I never heard of this? We lived and ate oysters for years in one of the top oyster regions of the world, Puget Sound, Washington, USA. Well now we know.

For my main I had a tartare of tuna and salmon. It was interesting that they brought me a bottle of Tabasco, which did in fact work quite well.

Eating is one of the main reasons we travel. This week the food in Arles has resulted in a totally enjoyable time. The Roman remains, sights of Vincent Van Gogh, and a huge market day are just icing on the cake – well, ok, the olive oil on everything, we don’t eat much cake.

Eating Our Way South

On By Terry ChristophersonIn Food and drink, France, Trips and travel5 Comments

We left Normandie last Wednesday for our long anticipated road-trip to the South of France. Any trip is just an excuse for some good food, and so far our expectations are not disappointed.

Our first stop was Montmorillon, to visit friends and to explore a town we felt we had missed in April when we were there but everything was closed. Well, it is September and there still are not a lot of things open, I get the feeling that is the kind of place it is. We arrived about 15H00 after a four hour drive. Our only food was pre-made sandwiches from an aire, the brilliant French amenity on the A routes, that have gas and food.

When we got to Montmorillon we were hungry. Of course, since it is a small village in France, nothing was open. Even the places that were serving beverages had closed their kitchens until at least 17H00 or 19H00. After a lot of walking, we discovered a bar that had food, Le Commerce. The rather nice man on duty pointed out what was available from the menu. We both ordered the chicken in some kind of sauce, with frites, and salad.

Mine didn’t taste bad, just not good, nor did Tricia’s. I felt like mine had an odd flavor and really ate only a few bites. We found better food later. When we told our friends, who we had come to visit, where we ate they reacted pretty negatively, we assured them we would not die, and so far we were right.

We started the next day with breakfast at our BnB.

Thanks to Tricia for the photo.

Then we we drove to Saint Savin, about 20 minutes from Montmorillon. It is home to an amazing church and abbey. The restaurant Le Carafus is actually built into the abbey. This turned out to be one of those places that ranks among the best meals ever.

The entree was fois gras, aubergine, and a shiitake mushroom purée. We shared one serving, but certainly could have each had one just fine.

As is often the case on a hot day, I had the steak tartar. This was easily one of the best ever, seasoned just right, and presented beautifully. It came with frites – bien sur. Tricia took the photo and I note that the fries are more in focus than my plate. Personally I think it just an example of Freudian-Slip-Photography as she really likes frites.

One afternoon we stopped at Salon De The. I had a peach milkshake, French style, not Baskin & Robbins. I also had carrot cake which was about as moist as I have ever had. We sat outside on the terrace, with the ancient church looming overhead. I know Jesus used bread and wine, and I get the symbolism, but this cake and shake was quite a celebration.

Our next stop was Carcassonne, to visit one of the largest walled cities in Europe, and what a place it is. Cassoulet is the regional food. Carcassonne, along with Toulouse, and Castelnaudary argue viciously over what is the proper mix of ingredients – lamb and sausage always playing star roles – but the real star is the creamy white beans. Most say that the dish was invented in Castelnaudary.

After another day with a bit of driving we were hungry, and since our hotel was across the street from the Castle we headed there for food. Of course it was mid-afternoon again so we had limited choice, yet found a place open and they had cassoulet. How can you go wrong with sausage and lamb?

We rarely go out for dinner in the evening, we prefer an elegant lunch, then we have cheese and wine for dinner, with baguette. But, we stumbled across Chez Christine, thankfully Tricia was game to have a dinner out, even though we had already had a decent lunch. I am so glad we did.

Smoked trout, with a cucumber sauce, and salmon eggs for an entree. Then I had the most delicious and tender lamb along with thin slices of roasted aubergine. Of course i finished it of with un café. Tricia had pasta with more morels than both of us could eat.

Last night I had a burger, yep a burger. The first one I had in France a year ago was quite a disappointment, then I had a couple from Buffalo Grill that were passable by American standards, but this one was great. It had Camembert cheese, how could you go wrong. I picked it up and ate it with my hands, American style – the French eat their burgers with a knife and fork, somehow it just does not seem right.

So our trip is off to a good start. We are in Arles now, sitting on the terrace of our BnB. We stopped to have lunch with a friend in Olonzac along the way. We got there early enough to catch the market, so we are quite stocked up on cheese, olives, fruit, and other necessities.

I hope you are enjoying fall, and taking some time to wander and eat.

Rustic Realities

On By Terry ChristophersonIn France8 Comments

We moved to Normandie from a modern townhouse-condo in Harbour Pointe, Mukilteo, Washington. It was complete with walking paths, yard maintenance, and a two car garage. Now we live in very rural France. It has been quite a change, and we have enjoyed it. Yet, the reality of our rustic life is ever present.

This is the entry into our little village, after driving 0.40 miles from the narrow main road through a dairy farm. Chez nous is the one in the center.

The buildings here are over 230 years old. Though I am not sure of all of the details, the names of the buildings do shed some light on the village’s past. Ours is the Quincaillerie or Hardware Store: others are the post, the school, the bakery, the wine cellar. So it appears this was a tiny village that served the surrounding farms at sometime in its past. Though there have been many upgrades over the years, its rustic heredity still shines through.

We like to watch the British show “A Place In The Sun”. It is about Brits who want to buy a place in France, Spain, Greece, or Portugal. Often the clients look at inexpensive properties, thinking of doing the renovations. These properties are plentiful in France. It is quite easy to find homes for 50,000€, BUT they can be quite derelict, needing a lot of work. Tricia and I comment often about how we hope they know what they are getting themselves in for.

As I write this a contractor is working on the roof. It has been in a bad state of repair since before we moved here, almost eighteen months ago. They started the work a few weeks ago by erecting the scaffolding, then they left. A few weeks later they returned to remove the old roofing, then they left again.

A week or so later they came back for a couple of days and worked on the waterproof fabric and slats. (For readers unfamiliar with this type of construction, just know that it is quite different from what I knew in the US.) Then of course they left, for a couple more weeks. While we waited, there were, bien sûr, torrential rainstorms. Finally, today they are doing a bit of work, we will see how far they go. From what I hear, and read in books written by others, this is just c’est normal here in France.

We have other rustic reminders, such as our stove. It is pretty much like you might find in an RV – called a caravan by our Brit friends. Every month or so we have to take our empty butane tank to the Intermarché and exchange it for a full one. The oven pretty much is either hot or not so hot, so we adjust cooking times and watch things like a hawk; simmering is really tricky.

Hot water and showers are always exciting. The hot water heater, which is more accurately called a boiler in British English, because the water gets almost boiling hot, does not have a temperature setting, it is just hot. You must be careful when turning on the water as you can get burned.

Then to add to the excitement, we have really old pipes that are calcified. So while taking a shower, with the water nicely adjusted, the cold water will stop, and only scalding hot water comes out, yes, even if you move the handle all the way to the cold. So with head covered in shampoo, you step aside and wait for the cold to return, then rinse quickly. This is caused because someone in an adjoining unit turns their water on. We have been waiting for almost a year for this to get fixed. We are not sure what the hold up is, or what the solution is.

We have other reminders of our rustic life, like waiting for the cows to be transferred from one field to another, just as we pull off the road, or of chickens crossing the road; both of which are quite entertaining. Of course all of these critters add their own aroma to the air at times.

We have so enjoyed living here, and all of the quirks are just enhancements to what our friend Shirley calls, Notre grande aventure. We do get away to Paris and other cities often, just to remind us that there is civilization out there, yet we are so thankful to have experienced a side of life that many dream of but never get the opportunity to actually embrace.