Nearing the end of the (lunch) line

DATELINE: Begun Tuesday, Oct. 24, in Vaison. May continue until Thursday, Oct. 26, in California (if all goes well).

Lovely day, but sun very hot until Brit at left
coaxed waiters to roll down awning over patio. Applause.

Summary of Tuesday, so far. Worked on laundry and preliminary packing most of morning, then off to Vaison's center for a good lunch at the usual brasserie. Back home to continue getting ready to fly. And to do a little more blog work.

We've kept up pretty well so far, putting most of these posts online within a day of the events described. It's been fun: looking, talking, meeting, writing, and mostly eating. But travel is looming, and it makes almost all other activities impossible. So here's why NOT to expect much new blog work from us for a few days.

We fly out of Marseille airport this Thursday before dawn local time. To be there for our early flight, we're leaving Vaison tomorrow (Wednesday) after lunch. We'll return the rental car and stay in an airport hotel before we take the hotel's earliest shuttle bus to the main terminal.

A short-haul jet from there should take a little over an hour to reach Paris's CDG airport. Our transcontinental jumbo jet lifts off around 1:10PM. After flying against the earth's rotation for 11 or so hours, Air France 084 is scheduled to land about 12:35PM local time at San Francisco.

A Napa-based shuttle bus is supposed to cruise the airport around 2:00PM, and the ride back to Napa is around 90 minutes if the traffic is only as bad as usual. Final lap: a taxi or a helpful neighbor to deposit us and all our luggage back at 918 Marina Drive. Home before dark.

With all that going on, plus an absence of internet service most of that time, it's unlikely much new blog posting will occur. Can't honestly say whether it will resume once we're home, or if this is the closing chapter. We'll have to see.

It's been fun, though. Glad you came along.

NEW DATELINE: Resumed writing about 7:00PM on Tues., Oct. 24, in Vaison

Nothing like an unexpected crisis to knock the fun out of life. We just had a lulu!

About 4:30 this afternoon, we walked to the cathedral. We'd parked our car in the church's lot last night to keep clear of the big market this morning. Roz and I locked the house, walked a quarter mile to where the car was, and drove it to a slot in the Post Office lot. Then we walked to the town place for ice cream sundaes. Contented, we strolled back to the house and I fished in my pocket for the key....

Yep, lost the house key. Big problems loomed, but we started out bravely. Back to where we had just parked the car to see if the key was in it or around it. Nope. Back to the ice cream shop to see if it fell on the floor while we were eating. Uh-uh. Walked all the way back to the cathedral and looked where the car had been parked. No avail -- and it was getting dark.

Panic rising. If we couldn't get back in soon, we'd have to find a place to sleep tonight. Tomorrow, we'd probably start getting penalized for not returning the car by the appointed time. Of course, we could  also miss our flights to Paris, then to SFO on Thursday. And on it goes.

All we had with us was wallets (cash and credit cards) and iPhones. We did know two people in Vaison who the owner of our rental trusted for cleaning and repairs. Met them both earlier this trip. But did we have their phone numbers with us? Would they be home? Did they have spare keys?

Roz's phone already had the number for Michele, the cleaner. But no answer, so she had to leave a message. Things looked more grim for a little while. Then Roz remembered that Allan, the owner, had sent us an online summary of what to do and who to call via email a year or so ago. Roz was pretty sure she could download the document to her phone from the internet. We sat in the car (I still had that key) to keep her phone plugged in and charging. Using her web wiles, she found that she'd put the whole thing in the Dropbox online storage service. Downloaded it to her phone and searched to find... Ta Dah!!! The handyman's cell number. 

His first name is Alain (same as the owner's, but with French spelling) and he met us back at the house about ten minutes after Roz finished explaining. Let us in and gave us a spare key. I wouldn't have minded if she kissed him (heck, I almost did myself), but instead we thanked him with an unopened bottle each of hard cider and good French fizzy wine.

Wrung out by the whole thing, we collapsed at our computers with aperitifs and I started writing this chapter of our "going home" adventure.

Roz’s photos of the more pleasant part of the day (as always, mostly food-based) start here:  Day 21

Cold wind, warm lunch... but where is everyone?

DATELINE: Monday, Oct. 23.Vaison to Grignan and back.

Cold this morning as we walked together to the bakery for pastries. Roz and I planned an early 3o kilometer drive to Grignan, where a chateau to visit and a lunch to eat would be waiting.

The autumn countryside was gorgeous in the slanting sunlight as we drove westward. But the wind was rising fast. By the time we got out of the car at the base of Grignan's hill it was a fight to keep the car doors from slamming. The narrow sloped streets seemed to funnel the wind in our faces no matter what direction we walked. Is this the infamous Mediterranean mistral? We think so.

Topping Grignan's steep hill sprawls a chateau made famous by witty 17th century society woman, Madame de Sévigné. I've never read any of her famous letters, but Roz was interested in her.

But another woman was the driving force behind the chateau's restoration from post-revolution damage and two following centuries of neglect. Marie Fontaine was a very wealthy woman who spent a fortune rebuilding the chateau as the 19th century became the 20th. The restoration is not historically precise, but plays variations on French history from as far back as the early 16th century well into the 18th. Now Madame Fontaine's portrait hangs on walls where many noble faces once did before noble heads rolled. Though the chateau's fame began with Mme. Sévigné, its current style is Fontaine's creation.

After taking pictures in and around the windblown edifice, we were in need of warmth before the usual French lunch-serving hour (12:30 or later). Fighting our way down the town streets, we spotted the restaurant where Roz had made the reservation. As we stood shivering outside, pretending to read the day's menu, the hostess discreetly unlocked the front door. Next to it, we were surprised to see a small card lettered (in French, of course) "The restaurant is full". It looked like we'd be the first of a large crowd.

When we finally went in (about 12:15) the staff were seated eating their lunch. They tided us over with aperitifs until they were ready to begin serving.

Amuse-bouche: a tiny glass full of great flavors

The meal was generally good, especially the tiny but mighty good amuse-bouche, meant to tickle one's tongue and rev up the taste buds. I loved it, and only as I downed the last wee spoonful did I hear the answer to Roz's question to the waitress, "What was that made of?" The answer: mostly a puree of green peas and lentils -- two vegetables I have feared eating for more than 50 years, after scary allergic reactions to them. Thank heavens, no trouble today.

Otherwise, the meal followed a profile that we've noticed this trip: a great start, with top-notch appetizer (often after an amuse-bouche), but then a disappointing main course, following which dessert comes to the rescue with a delicious finish. That describes today, when we both found the codfish oversalted, though the pilaf-like rice was good. Dessert was fine.

Oh, and that crowd the restaurant's outdoor note seemed to expect? It never showed up. We have lunched yet another day in solitary spendor. Is it something about us?

Then out into the cold gusts, down the hill to the parking lot, and home by about 3:00PM. Later, after some preliminary chores to prep for tomorrow's big pack-a-thon, we had prosecco and cheese.

For more pictures, see Roz's photo album, Day 20. 

From a rib-sticking breakfast to a less thrilling luncheon

DATELINE: Sunday, Oct. 22, in Vaison and Entrechaux.

Today it was oatmeal again. I alternate breakfasts in Vaison between sweet pastry from the local baker and that stove-top staple. Actually, it's microwave oatmeal these days, fortified with blueberries, raisins, and cinnamon. I'm sure it'll help me grow up big and strong.

Shortly after that, Roz and I hit the trail at Théos Park for a two-miler in a stiffening breeze. Beautiful morning sunshine, but we were glad to get out of the wind by the time we got back to the car. This is predicted to be the first of three windy days.

Not exactly classic French architecture

After sprucing up, we fetched the car again from the Post Office lot. Then on toward the adjoining village of Crestet for today's lunchtime adventure. L'Epicurien is definitely a cut below the pretensions of other, more elegant dining venues: paper napkins and thin flimsy tableware utensils don't measure up.

But the waiter was eager to help, showing off his English as much as possible. He gave the menu to me in English, to Roz in French. He was also learning the ropes of a new handheld order-placing gadget and I could sympathize with his frustration. Still, he kept things coming pretty well as more diners were seated.

Best dish: R's gazpacho with potato wafer

But the food was uneven. Roz seemed fairly satisfied, but I noticed a few problems (surprise!). For example, my appetizer terrine was in gelatin so salty that the chopped rabbit might as well have been chicken. My main dish salmon was good, but the ratatouille on the plate with it was fantastic! I'd have happily swapped the salmon for a triple serving of the vegetable.

Dessert was good; hard to go wrong with warm chocolate and cold ice cream. But all told, the price was a little out of line, compared to the value we've found at more attractive venues. The locals know it -- it was the least busy of the three places we've eaten on Sunday this trip.

The 50 centiliter bottle of wine we had was pretty tasty, and helped me catch a good nap after I drove carefully home. Later, in the evening (still cold and windy outdoors), we had some prosecco and cheese while editing photos and writing for this blog.

More photos on the "Roz's photos" link to left. Scroll down to Day 19, or click here to go directly there. 

Why so many good restaurants empty on a nice weekend?

DATELINE: Saturday, Oct. 21, In Vaison and nearby Malaucène

Awoke to cooling weather after a warm-ish night. I walked out in the dawn gloom to my favorite bakery; I've developed a taste for their pastry with apples -- chausson aux pommes -- literally "a slipper of apples". Tastes much better than it sounds.

After breakfast, we walked around Vaison, partly to explore an alternate route for moving the car between the Post Office lot and the cathedral parking area (as market days require).

As usual, luncheon was the feature event planned for the day. Destination: a restaurant named Le Four à Chaux (the lime kiln). It's in the village of Caromb near larger Malaucène. On the map, it looks quite close to Vaison, but the narrow road swoops and curves all the way, making it a longer and tenser drive.

The final approach to the restaurant takes you off the road at a stone bridge, then under that bridge to the eatery on the bank of a small river (the river gets two arches of the bridge; the restaurant gets one).

The restaurant occupied quite a large building, probably the combined home-workplace of the kiln operator. Today, it's nicely decorated, with inventive lighting. Not crowded, though. Each of the only three occupied tables had a separate small dining room to itself. That's only three couples for the Saturday "lunch crowd". I hope they do better on other days and evenings.

So many empty tables at peak mealtime

The menu was full of things I never ate as a child. Travel in Europe really broadened my gustatory horizons.

The half-liter bottle of wine we ordered arrived chilled, to our surprise, but went well with our meal.

The drive home seemed shorter, but with less traffic it was easier to drive.

Very colorful autumn vegetation decorated the hillsides and valleys.

I think a nap may have occurred shortly after our arrival home. The late afternoon and evening passed pleasantly, with aperitifs and cheese as dusk turned to night.

REMINDER: More of Roz's photos are viewable by clicking the link to the left of this post. Or click here to go directly to Day 18. 

Fuel for memories

DATELINE: Friday, Oct. 20, in Vaison

Hang in there, friends, through just one more day in and around Vaison. The weekend ahead will resume our travels to more big lunches.

But back to Friday. After breakfast, the doorbell rang. When I opened the door, four people stood there: a couple about our age, and two younger men loaded down with bulky equipment. We looked at one another with blank incomprehension. Did they think we were expecting them? Finally, I conjured up the French for "Can I help you?" After Roz joined the conversation, it became clear that the older couple were purchasing the abutting house west of ours. This procedure required an extremely accurate survey of the property's dimensions. But one key exterior surface was only exposed in the little patio off the guest bedroom on our second floor. They asked if they could come in and use their satellite/laser measurement system to measure that surface accurately. With some wariness, we said yes.

The following half hour was an interesting mix of high technology surveying, mis-matched languages, and clumsy conversations. But I was impressed by the politeness which made all this pleasant. The putative house buyers especially liked the view of the Roman ruins from our front bedroom. Handshakes all 'round as they departed. I hope the deal works out for the twosome; they seem like good potential neighbors.

Later, during our morning walk along a one-mile path from Park Théos, the sound of helicopters rattled the morning air. When we looked up toward the castle that caps the height of medieval Vaison, a chopper was shuttling back and forth between an out-of-view part of the hilltop and the old fortress. On the way to the fortress, it carried a package at the end of a long cable. Then hovering above the castle, it lowered slowly until the package disappeared behind the old walls. A few seconds later, the 'copter rose again with a bare cable, went back to the loading zone, got another load, and repeated the cycle. Noisy, but apparently the only practical way to transfer some important cargo into the ancient stone building.

Later in the morning we faced a dreaded situation -- our car was running low on fuel! We've had many misadventures buying gasoline or diesel fuel during 20-plus years of driving in Europe. Such as inscrutable (or absent) pump instructions, unclear payment procedures, stations unstaffed on Sundays, and pumps empty because of delivery strikes.

This time our troubles centered on the car we were driving. Before we left our space in the Post Office lot, I wanted to figure out how to open the fueling port.  I looked inside for a lever or button -- no luck. Jumped out of the car and looked at the door over the port. Couldn't see any way to open it from there. Back inside, tried every button. Meanwhile, a lady in a blue car was getting honked at as she waited for our space.

Finally, a much closer look at the exterior fuel door revealed a tiny depression at one edge where I could get a finger under and pry the door open. By this time, of course, the blue car lady had to move on. Je suis desolé, Madame.

Fueling done, we were soon back at our little house for a simple lunch: reheated take-home pizza from yesterday at Bella Napoli. Good.

Duck confit

The evening's feature attraction was the last of this trip's three meals at Mathieu's wine shop. Roz had arranged for a table seating four in a corner while a large party of 15 otherwise monopolized the long center table. Mathieu outdid himself, preparing a superb duck confit with sesame seeds, that sat atop a risotto-like preparation of spelt grain. Dessert was a chocolate pear crumble. All made even better by our dinner partners, Agnès and Tien Chong, whom we had first met here two weeks earlier.

We said goodbye to them and to Mathieu after supper. Not certain whether we'll ever be back to see them again.

Mathieu

 

It was a day full of small adventures that we'll remember.

Lunchtime satisfaction rediscovered, twice, right here in Vaison.

DATELINE: Wednesday, Oct. 18. Vaison and around.

Maybe I should change the name of this blog to The Lunch Line. The focus of almost all of this year's posts has been our dejeuner;  where it was, what it included, and how the experience went down. I'll think about it.

There is good news on that topic however: our lunch luck changed back to positive on Wednesday, and at a more appetizing price level.

The day had begun with a visit from "The French Tornado", my nickname for Mme. Maurel, the local lady who handles cleaning and tidying for our rental lodging. In addition to her own energetic work, her grand-daughter and her great-granddaughter pitched in. In about an hour, the place was looking much better, plus we had enjoyed three lovely people.

When our lunchtime rolled around we walked to the center of Vaison to try a creperie recommended by our new friends, the Chongs. It's called "La Fleur de Sel" (The Salt Flower") to evoke the north coast of France. Far less elegant than our three previous lunch venues, it still offered outdoor seating, though on a back-street sidewalk. The menu listed a terrific collection of galettes. which are thin pancakes made with buckwheat/egg batter (hey, it's gluten-free!). These are folded onto various tasty fillings to form a square usually served on a plate of the same shape (picture on Roz's photo site).

We both had savory fillings with good melted cheese, washed down with hard cider (the essential drink of Brittany). Simple, but excellent -- for about $35 total. Our lunch line is back on high ground!

Though the sweet crepes on the menu were tempting, we took the plunge on pastries from the upscale patisserie, Peyrerol, we passed walking home. A conscience-clearing afternoon walk helped reduce our guilt as we ate them. Again, see Roz's photos.

All we had for evening nourishment was a bit more cheese with our usual aperitifs. 

DATELINE: Thursday, Oct. 19, in Vaison, Nyons, and Entrechaux.

We still had not scored any really great olives this trip, so Roz insisted we try once more at the big Thursday market in Nyons. We made an early run right after the market opened, found the stall with the best olive vendor, loaded up, and skedaddled before the crowd really arrived. We unloaded back home, then drove out to the Théos park for a brisk two-mile walk.

Pizza with roasted vegetables

Next, we pushed our Lunch Line luck a bit further with another Vaison restaurant. Pizza this time, at Bella Napoli, recommended by our host, Toronto native Allan Glube. Another great find with good food at a reasonable price, and within easy walking distance. Wish we'd found these good, nearby lunch places a week or more ago.

The after-lunch hours were spent back at the house. We had a date for aperitifs with our new friends, the Chongs, for early evening, so rested a bit then got ready to go. Their home, in a village near Vaison, is a very well-done remodel of an old Provence farmhouse. Beautiful landscaping, too. We four had a good time swapping stories and opinions. We consider meeting them to be one of the high points of this trip.

The drive home began on dark country roads, but soon put us on familiar highways. Plenty of parking at the nearby Post Office lot. A pleasant evening in many ways.

Outdoor lunch: third time, no charm

DATELINE: Tuesday, Oct.17. Another market day in Vaison

Walking out to buy pastry in this morning's grey pre-dawn light, I could hear clanks and clicks as the metal frames of booths were being assembled for today's big market in Vaison.

The bustle wasn't just in the Post Office parking area, but also on the narrow streets I walked through. People were pulling large plastic tubs out of their vans, laying out the contents on just-unfolded tables, and stacking the tubs back in the vans. A surprisingly calm buzz of conversation filled the air, as stall neighbors greeted each other. It was chilly, so warm jackets and sweatshirts were the uniform.

A few cars and vans, having deposited their contents at a booth, were leaving to make more room. These added a mobile challenge for we few "civililan" pedestrians threading our way to bakeries and cafes. Still, it was a pleasant glimpse "behind the scenes" of French daily life. Tomorrow, this will all be repeated in some other town or village. And on and on....   

Around 10:00AM, Roz and I headed out to the now-open market. As usual, she found more to buy than I did: fresh seasonal fruit for her, but no zip-front sweater for me.

After noon, when we walked through town toward our lunch destination, the same booths I'd seen and heard being erected this morning were already being folded into cars and vans. 

Our table with aperitifs,
the high point of the meal.

Our destination was a restaurant just across the old Roman bridge from downtown Vaison. We'd eaten at Le Moulin à Huile last year, and found the new chef/owner's cuisine to be very good then. Sadly, we aren't even certain that the same guy was in charge today. 

After two great meals, our third outdoor luncheon in a row was disappointing for several reasons:  (too much salt here, too little there, for example) and when the chef came out to talk to the diners, we didn't recognize the man from last year. Maybe the restaurant has changed hands again.

We stopped short of dessert there, but yielded to temptation as we walked home past Léone on the town square. Their ice cream lifted our spirits, and we arrived home much happier.

Late afternoon involved little excitement: got the car from the cathedral parking lot and put it back in the Post Office lot now that the market was gone. Another quiet evening followed.