We got back home on 4 January after a month in the US, so what has it been like?
First off it has been pretty cold most of the time, morning temperatures in the 20sF, we even had a dusting of snow. We try to use our wood stove as little as possible, it is just too much bother and too much smoke, yet we have had a few fires out of necessity.
I took that photo last winter when Neville was still with us, he did like the fires. Though we always miss him, and talk about him often, since returning we are missing him for another reason – mice. It seems the cold has driven the mice to seek warmer places indoors, so we have been setting traps and cleaning a lot, yuck. If Neville was here it would be pas de problème .
We eat quite a bit differently when we are home. While traveling, and especially on this trip to visit friends and family who all wanted to share amazing food, we eat a lot. Here in Normandie we are pretty much vegetarian and eat our main meal at lunch, though still pretty light. Then we have just an appetizer type nibble in the evening.
Our first Sunday back I made crisp, thin polenta cakes with a light Roquefort sauce, topped with beets, walnuts and crispy shallots.
We have had flatbreads, salads, I made a cauliflower soup, and Tricia made a lentil soup. For her birthday last Friday I did polenta cakes again but with a mushroom sauce – it didn’t turn out as well as I would have liked for a birthday meal, but she said it was a good birthday, which is all that mattered. It feels good to eat a bit less, and I am sure my girth is happier for it as well.
Friday we head to Paris, then on to the south of Spain for a couple of weeks, it will be good to get out of the cold for a bit. We will leave traps for the mice just in case. And in Spain I can get all of the tapas and grilled fish I can eat, we can hardly wait.
In the movie The Big Chill, Jeff Goldblum’s character says: “Don’t knock rationalization. Where would we be without it? I don’t know anyone who could get through the day without two or three juicy rationalizations.” Thankfully when it comes to food I excel at rationalization.
Beef would be far easier for me to give up than fish and seafood. Well of course “meat in tube form” (a nod to Anthony Bourdain) and steak tartar are completely rational exceptions.
Steak tartar is one of the foods that I eat more frequently than I did in pre-France days. Steak tartar is made of finely chopped raw beef, often seasoned with herbs, or in France mustard. Apparently Brits are not big fans of steak tartar since I have often had servers, assuming I am a Brit, ask me if I know what steak tartar is, but this expat does like steak tartar.
One of the best steak tartars I have ever had was at Restaurant le Cerasus in Saint Savin in the Nouvelle-Aquitaine region of France. It had a lot of mustard, which in France is always Dijon, and it was served with frites, bien sûr.
Thanks Tricia for the photo.
Here are a few others, some better than others.
Another best – Basel, SwitzerlandOK, not greatGood one, can’t remember whereNot great
Grilled fish, often whole, are another of my new favorites. This Flounder in Bergen was the first time I had flounder, I am now watching for it on menues.
A waiter in Quarteira, Portugal gave me some lessons on using the fish knives they provide and showed me the technique of separating the flesh from the bones after I ordered these grilled sardines. For those in the US who only think of canned sardines, these will make you reconsider. Grilled sardines are another of my favorites.
There are plenty of other options when it comes to grilled seafood.
Octopus in HonfleurTrout in BergenIn Alta, Norway
Coming from Puget Sound we are of course familiar with oysters, but for some reason since moving to France, and all of the traveling we do, oysters are on our table far more often, and they are far more affordable here.
I have heard the term “pescatarian” used to describe someone who eats seafood and an otherwise vegetarian diet. It describes me pretty well as long as you can accept my occasional rationalizations. Let’s not talk about shortbread cookies and Scotch, OK.
If we ever left France and returned to the USA, which would not be a bad thing since we love the PNW, there would be things I would miss. Here are just a few that come to mind.
When we first moved to France we spent a lot of time visiting châteaux and old churches in the area. However, after seeing a bunch of châteaux they do tend to all look alike. After a few months we just quit looking for new ones to visit. We do still visit churches whenever we can, but that is for more than the architecture, there is a spiritual element going on there. Yet I would miss living in a country where views like this, the citadel of Carcassonne, are the norm, not the exception.
We drive through village after village, each one is postcard-worthy, but, here in France it is the normal ambiance, the terroir of the place, and I love it. I would miss living in a place where old buildings are a common site, not torn down to “put up a parking lot.” (Joni MItchell)
Being the foodies that we are we love the outdoor eating scene, with city squares filled with restaurants, each with an outdoor eating space. In the USA many restaurants do have outside seating, but it is hard to find a place with ten restaurants within a 200’ x 100’ square like we found in Arles. This view is along the Sorgue river in L’Isle-sur-la-Sorgue – there are five restaurants in this photo. Most of the river in the city is lined with wonderful places to eat and enjoy friends.
In France, and much of Europe, eating outside is just the way you eat out, unless the weather is so inclement that it is impossible. I have had coffee, wine, and food many times in the winter months, sitting outside, and no one thinks it strange. I would miss living in a place where alfresco is the first choice, not an afterthought.
As often as I write about my morning coffee and sketches it is quite easy to understand how I would miss that. Starbucks just isn’t the same as something like this.
Then there is the cheese, oh my! Not only is the variety mind boggling, the prices are unbelievable. Here are some of my favorites, and just a few at that. None of these is over 4€ here. Most would not be readily available in Seattle or Portland unless it was a specialty shop with specialty shop prices.
There is more than food and history I would miss, how could you not miss a country where in the park you can’t ride a bike, play soccer, or walk your dog, but there is an urinal close at hand. Such facilities are the norm in this country, no one thinks a thing about it.
For years we loved visiting France and Europe, as a place to travel for les vacances it is wonderful. Now that we have lived here, it is the everyday environment that becomes more appreciated.
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.
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.
Last week Tricia and I were walking near the lake in the park at Ceaucé. We turned a corner and just ahead there was a group of four or five kids, between six and twelve years old. They were doing what kids do, calling out to the small black sheep behind the fence. As we approached and were passing them, they all, each one, said, “Bonjour Messieurs-dames.” Yes, for all you grammar checkers, that I keep so busy, it IS all run together as one word. It is a common shorthand for “Bonjour Monsieur, Bonjour Madame,” We hear it often when Tricia and I are out and about.
In France when you enter someone’s space “Bonjour!” is expected. Bonjour, is so much more than hello, which would be “salute,” which is far to casual for the first contact with a person. We have been in a restaurant when the hostess is seating someone and they pass near our table, they offer a “bonjour” as a recognition of entering our space, which we return to acknowledge them. When entering a shop a “bonjour” is offered, and a return bonjour is expected. Unaware visitors often wonder why they are not receiving the “service” they want, well it is because they have ignored one of the most basic of social niceties in France, the bonjour. It is considered rude to not offer a bonjour.
These children already knew and practiced the social custom, with perfection. In France, a child is taught how to behave in the society they live in. They learn this along with other French norms of talking quietly in restaurants and waiting patiently in lines.
One of the things I like about Europe is the sense of community. Certainly that includes the concept that a person’s individual desires may need to be toned down a bit in order to serve the community. That sense of community also includes common curtesies that show respect for others.
I remember, in my seminar days, doing seminars that included a section on etiquette – I also remember being asked why it mattered. The answer: our manners show our respect for others, they show our understanding and awareness of our community.
David Brooks wrote a recent article for “The Atlantic” titled, “How America Got Mean.” He wrote, The most important story about why Americans have become sad and alienated and rude, I believe, is also the simplest: We inhabit a society in which people are no longer trained in how to treat others with kindness and consideration.
The French respect their culture and tradition, they pass it down to their children. Recently there were some protests and uprisings in a few cities, over an issue that made the protests logical and somewhat justified. Macron, the Prime Minister, appealed to the parents to talk to their teens. My point here is not to endorse or condem the protests, but the expectation that parents are to pass on the decorum that is expected in the French society.
These days when we watch the news in the USA we are saddened by the lack of civility. The Senate uses words like, “The Gentleman, or Gentellady,” yet it is only empty words, in the next breath they viciously attack each other with childish names and accusations.
There was a time in our culture when people with differing positions were respectful to each other. Republican President Ronald Reagan and Democratic Speaker Tip O’Neil would get together regularly, and informally, to chat about issues over a glass of Scotch. They agreed on few issues in those days, but they handled it with decorum.
With all of its imperfections, I appreciate the civility that many cultures practice. We saw it in Japan and we see it in France. We may disagree, yet we still owe each other the decency of being joint members of our community.
We have been hiding a family secret since July of 2007 – 16 years. Now, living in France, it is time to come clean. We – Alexis, Tricia, et moi – visited Paris, along with my dad and stepmother in 2007. Tricia had a great idea for a Christmas card photo for that year.
My dad took this photo. The three of us in a perfect stereotypical French pose – baguettes and the Eiffel Tower. Note carefully the three baguettes, specifically the paper around them. Note that Alexis’s is different. (Also notice her Pichard looking red bag.)
We bought the baguettes on the way to the Tower. Like many French people would do, Alexis broke off le crouton or le quignon (depending on which part of France you are in) and began to eat. It is the first end of the baguette and considered a delicacy.
She ate the first bite, then a second, and a third, and … Well by the time we got ready for the photo-shoot she only had about six inches of the Baguette left. I understand completely, yesterday I bought a baguette, which I proceeded to eat, with Tricia’s help, until it was about half gone.
So when we finally were ready to take the photo, Alexis had to hold her mostly empty bag, with just the remaining tip protruding, not a whole baguette, as the picture portrays. So now you know the whole story.
In France there are four essentials for living: Une baguette, du vin, du fromage, et un café – bread, wine, cheese, and coffee.
In a small village like Ceaucé, our nearest village, you can always find a baguette in the early morning. If the boulangerie is closed, there will be a sign in front of the small convenience store that they have bread. Yesterday they were both closed, so the sign was in front of the charcuterie. A charcuterie is a meat and sausage market, but behind the counter was a large bundle of baguettes. They only cost 1.05€, regulated by a government that believes essentials should be protected. She handed me my baguette, which, in true French fashion, had no wrapping of any sort, just a delightfully crusty baguette. Folks in the USA would cringe, but the French think we are too fussy about such things.
Wine in France is also quite affordable, a nice Cote de Rhône will cost around 4€, it would be $15-20 in the US. I get wonderful Camembert rounds, from right here in Normandie, for 2-4€. So for under 10€ a person can eat quite well, with room left over for un café at a local café.
My friend Shirley, will most likely tell me I left out croissants, but for the French, croissants are more of treat than an essential, but like Shirley I could easily add them to the list. And the French do adore their croissants.
One of the concepts that I like about France is that the essentials for quality of life are quite simple. That is a lesson I hope to keep from our time here in France. Tricia likes the statement La vie est belle, and I think the simpler you make it the better it is, thank you France for the education.
I like Europe. I particularly like France. Since moving to France over sixteen months ago, we have had the opportunity to visit twelve European countries, a few of them we had already visited at least once before we moved here – that is more than I ever dreamed I would get to see. If you take all of our European travel over the years we have been to fourteen countries in Europe.
The first conclusion is that I really like Europe, or at least Western Europe. The next conclusion is that I like France the best. With all of its paperwork, penchant for complaining, and unpredictability, it is still my favorite.
Just a week ago we drove back from spending time with Tricia’s sister in eastern France and Switzerland. Tricia was taking a nap as we cruised along the A11 at 130K. My thoughts pondered, what is it about Europe that I like so much?
When I visualize most anyplace in Europe it is cafes, cathedrals and castles, and a communal mindset that comes to mind.
One of the most striking features of Europe, and of course France, is the plethora of cafes and restaurants, most of which have outdoor seating. Al fresco, or en plien air, is the norm here. In Europe, the first choice is sitting outdoors for coffee, eating, and hanging out. The time of the year makes little difference. In the dead of winter, folks sit outside with un cafe or a glass of wine chatting with their friends.
The cafe culture, which France is famous for, is more about people than what is consumed. People watching is an ubiquitous pastime here. In most cafes, the chairs face the street so you can watch the people parading by. There is no rush at a cafe, and you will never have a server indicating that they need the table – a 2€ un café entitles you to sit at the table for as long as you like. The cafe scene, just hanging out over a cafe, is something that most of the population takes part in regardless of status or age – cafes, en plien air cafes, are in the very fabric of peoples lives and outlook on life. It is a time to slow down to experience la joie de vivre. I like it a lot.
Another striking feature in Europe are the buildings, especially the churches, chateaus, and castles. Every city or, in a large city, like Paris, neighborhood, has a central area with an old church. Usually the weekly market is nearby, often a castle on a hill overlooks the whole scene.
St Julien’s Ceaucé churchChateau de Domfront
It is quite clear that this is an old culture which people are quite keen to embrace. One of my favorite scenes from the movie LA Story is when Steve Martin is giving a tour of the city and he says with incredulity, “Some of these houses are twenty years old!” We live in a house that is over 230 years old and we are surrounded by houses just as old. A twenty minute drive from here we can eat at a restaurant that sits in the shadow of Chateau de Domfront, over 1000 years old.
Joni Mitchell got it right when she sang, “They paved paradise and put up a parking lot.” In the US we tear down buildings. In Europe they update the building while valuing its history. In Europe, there is a connection to history which gives a different perspective on the future than if society is just focused on the next new thing.
The communal attitude of Europe and France stands out as well – public transportation and healthcare are two of the best examples. Trains and subways make it quite easy for many folks to never own or really need a car. Bicycles are common all over Europe, as are motor scooters. What is rare are large SUVs and trucks.
Healthcare is seen as a public necessity, not something connected with a job or only for the well-off financially. Yes, it has its frustrations, to expect otherwise would not be realistic. It is comforting to know that the societies of Europe are willing to pay a bit more in tax for the benefit of the community.
Individualism is quite acceptable here, and there is acceptance of live and let live. There is less of the attitude that has grown so divisive in the US where one group feels the need to intrude on the lives of other people’s lifestyles, lifestyles that most often have nothing to do with them. The US claims a separation of church and state, yet the church today wants to impose its beliefs on everyone. France is officially secular, which does not mean anti-religion. What it does mean is that you are allowed to practice your religion and just let me practice mine. (Sadly, recently this is being tested by far-right groups wanting to oppress some races and religions.)
Europe is not perfect, and like a good Frenchman I can complain with the best of them about the bureaucracy, the frequent waiting, or that we still have 3G phone service half the time. Yet, I like it here. There are a few places I know in the US that are close, like the part of Portland where our friends live, and a few pockets in Seattle, so if/when we return to the US we will need to seek out such a place. But, in the meantime, I will enjoy France.
Next week I will explore why I like France the best.
On Thursday we took the two-and-a-half-hour drive to Chartres. It is a big, modern, and clean city; quite nice. After lunch we went straight to the Cathedral, the city’s main attraction for most visitors thanks to its historical importance. It has some of the best Gothic construction ever, according to those who know such things. We would return multiple times during our stay. One of the most memorable visits was when we went on a tour of the crypt, which is not actually where people are buried but is a series of chapels built under the church. It serves as the foundation for the structures above.
Even in the presence of such a beautiful, as well as spiritual, icon, we soon were searching for food. Our lunch at the first bar/tabac we saw was actually one of the better meals. We sat outside in a lush courtyard accompanied by un petit oiseau with a nest in a decorative sculpture. The server was friendly, easily interpreting our French. The portions were just right, which for Tricia and me means small.
The next day, we tried one of the restaurants near the Cathedral. It was OK but not great. I fear we were the recipients of tourist fatigue, little attempt to speak French to us, just English. As is often the case in tourist areas, the cuisine is just passable since most customers will never return. However, to France’s credit, that is not as common as in some tourist places we have visited over the years – the French are proud of their food.
We ate at the Cafe Blue for both lunch and snacks. Even though it as close to the Cathedral as possible, it had great service and food. Its setting is perfect for gazing at the church and watching the people parade by.
On Sunday, needing some variety, we ate at an Italian place. Sadly, the service did not live up to the ambience of the shop/restaurant. Our French is understood most everyplace we go. Tricia is often complimented on her French, and occasionally even my much less elegant elocution is given positive marks. Yet for some reason it appeared the servers were snickering at us. When I told one man that the meal was délicieux, which was a stretch, but I was being kind, he cocked his head as if he didn’t understand. They must have understood, as they brought us our orders and such without ever a word of English. I could have overlooked the less than stellar food, but the arrogant attitude kind of took the glow off of the meal.
Walking along the river, we spied a couple of cafes and bistros perched above the water. Both of them were away from the Cathedral, which may make them more local oriented. So my conclusion is that the Cathedral is a 10. The food, however, is still inconclusive. We may go back to Chartres one day. If we do, it will be to visit some of the less famous churches and explore the food in more depth. Both of those pursuits are worth a trip.
Tricia and I are foodies; we talk about food, we plan our next meals while eating, and we both read food blogs. When we travel, seeking out a good place for lunch is as important to us as visiting some iconic sight. Thankfully, our friends Tim and Lisa enjoy good food as well, so their time with us has included varied venues, both geographically and culinarily.Thank you Tricia for most of these photos.
Not all of our meals were in restaurants. Sandwiches, or paninis, which of course are the same thing, but panini sounds more exotic, were a mainstay. Lisa with her comfortable stalwart of sliced turkey, Tricia with tomatoes and sliced goat cheese. Tim and I had sardine salad with spices, onions, and pickles. One day we had grain bowls, a welcome vegetarian break from meat-heavy French cooking.
Sundays were at home, since open restaurants on Sundays in France are not common in the rural areas. Sunday Lunch is a revered tradition in France which I suppose contributes to the restaurants being closed. We cooked breaded chicken one Sunday, braised lamb and mash the second.
We visited a number of restaurants, Saint Julien’s twice. We went with Tim on his first day here. Last Tuesday all four of us went.
Menu du jour at Saint Julian’s
We had Indian food in Mayanne. We even went to the Buffalo Grill to have American-style hamburgers. One night our neighbors invited us over for the UK version of chili, which is not Tex-mex at all, yet was quite good.
Last Wednesday we went to Au Point Nommé in Saint-Fraimbault. Tricia and I went there in March of 2020 when we were here to check out La Thebauderie, it was good to go back. We sat in the sun and enjoyed the meal.
On Thursday we took a long drive to Granville, a historic town and the location of one of our favorite restaurants in Normandie, La Citidel. The lunch was a gift to us all from Lisa’s mom who lives in far away Southern California. We enjoyed every moment, sitting outside under an awning that gave some of the photos an orange tint. Thank you so much Anne.
Apéros and oysters for a perfect start to a meal by the sea.
Tricia had scallops, what an amazing presentation. Tim and I had seafood towers.
Friday we took them to our favorite place nearby, which I have written about before, Auberge du la Source – wonderful, c’est normal.
It has been a good time. Thursday we all head for Chartres to visit the famed cathedral. Of course, as iconic and historic as the Gothic church is, Tricia and I will be in search of good food.
Been There, Eating This 