Tag Archives: provence

THE SKY WAS PINK

When we were in Provence, I finally got a peek at my dream house. We were at the Chateau Barbeyrolles — a small property located at the foot of Gassin, one of the three villages on the Saint-Tropez peninsula — which was both an excellent winery and home to its proprietress, Régine Sumeire. From wandering her grape vines, which grow freely within clusters of rose bushes, to exploring her beautiful home (which had a gigantic swimming pool!), I was completely and utterly seduced by Barbeyrolles’ unabashed femininity and timeless personality.

Here in Montreal, Régine’s drinkable, friendly rose wines are very popular (her Cotes de Provence Petale de Rose, drunk poolside or at the beach, is especially a hit in the summer), and it was fascinating to see how her womanly, flower-loving personality translated to both her wines and the inspiring way she lives her life.

We were lucky enough to eat a simple, summery meal prepared by Sumeire herself, right in her own home, where she’s lived since 1977. Everyone knows that I’m obsessed with everything pink (my favorite color) and flowery and girly, so I was totally in hog heaven as I took in her rose-patterned tablecloth, impressive Persian rug collection, and shelves and shelves of well-read books. It incapsulated everything I’ve ever imagined for my own dream home — especially the cozy, terra cotta-tiled kitchen, where we ate.

Régine, in true effortless French lady form, had prepared a feast of traditional Provencal food, like cubes of foie gras wrapped in ham; a cold tomato and salt cod salad, dusted with fennel fronds and chives; tender squares of zucchini, stuffed with ground veal, garlic, and breadcrumbs; and mini fig and raspberry tartlets. (All carefully paired with her delicious wines, of course). Right as we were about to sit down and eat, the kitchen was flooded with intense, fluorescent pink light, which spilled over the hillside like water. We didn’t encounter many other female winemakers when we were in Provence, and Régine had a particularly intriguing, witchy aura about her, like she was in control of the sunset somehow. I felt lucky to be there.

PS. Montreal friends, if you’d like to get a taste of this kind of Provencal magic, my friends Seth and Michelle are hosting a special Provencal dinner tonight at the Foodlab, in honor of the late, great food writer Richard Olney. (A familiar name on this blog, for sure!) Trust me — you don’t want to miss this.

BREAKFAST IN SANARY

Breakfast in Provence. Sigh. Earlier this summer, we were toying around with the idea of going back to Sanary for a month — that’s how cheap the apartment that we rented was — so Adam could finish his book in solitude, but it’s so impossible with my new job. Still, so grateful for the handful of sunny mornings we spent there, one egg for me, two for him, some wilted greens and peeled asparagus.

MONTREAL GAZETTE: PURITY IN A DISH

I recently wrote about our epic and magical trip to Provence for the Montreal Gazette. I loved reminiscing about all of our gorgeous adventures in the countryside. I also came to the worthwhile realization that the best part of the trip wasn’t our time at fancy restaurants or hotels, but the handful of days when we rented a tiny apartment overlooking the ocean and cooked all of our own meals from vegetables I bought at the market. (I not-so-secretly want to live in Sanary-sur-mer forever).

You can read the full story here. And I’ll be posting photos from our trip to France for the rest of the week!

EGGS AND TRUFFLES

When Adam and I were in Provence, we went to an out of control truffle-themed restaurant called Chez Bruno (more on it soon!). One of my favorite courses was the truffle and scrambled eggs, a classic pairing in traditional French cuisine. Bruno’s eggs, with its soft, liquidy curds, were cooked perfectly. We ate it like a soup. Slurp. So delicious. After returning to Montreal, we recreated the dish (also throwing it on some toast and adding chives). I decided the key to exquisite scrambled eggs is very low heat and lots of butter stirred in at the end. The texture should be super loose, creamy, and light, almost like a pudding. (There’s a nice truffled scrambled egg recipe here). Oh, and anther good tip, courtesy of Richard Olney: Try rubbing your wooden spoon with raw garlic, which will impart your dish with its essence while you stir.

MY KIND OF BUFFET

A luscious, lengthy breakfast at Hôtel du Castellet, in Provence, France. As extraordinary as the pastry and cheeses were, I was most amazed by the butter, which seems to be appreciated in a way I’ve never seen in North America. Tiny single-sized portions of butter, carefully held in a beautiful foil wrapper, were everywhere we went. When I was little, I used to collect the tiny jars of Bonne Maman preserves they’d give out at pancake restaurants in La Jolla. Guess my affection for adorable mini-sized things hasn’t changed at all.

ROAMING DOMAINE GROS ‘NORE

As I wrote about earlier this weekend, we spent our first night in Provence at the beautiful home of Alain Pascal, the former boxer-turned-winemaker. He owns Domaine Du Gros’Noré, which produces some of my very favorite Bandol rosé. (Their Bandol rouge is life-changing, too!) His home is a classic, sprawling Provencal villa, surrounded by grape vines, the air thick with the scent of roses, rosemary, and wildflowers. I was insanely jet-lagged when we arrived, but as soon as I stepped onto his property I felt as awake as I have ever been. It’s a magical place.

COTE D’AZUR COLORS

I can’t believe I still haven’t finished uploading my Provence photos. Oops. Here’s some Côte d’Azur scenery to set the mood (I took these in the Var and Bandol regions). Looking at these images, I can still smell the rosemary and blossoms that enlivened my senses — and angered my allergies!

TARTIFLETTE SNACK

Adam and I had a lot of fancy food when we were in Provence, so it figures that one our most memorable meals was actually a cheap wood-fired pizza made in the back of a truck. It was inspired by the Savoyan “tartiflette,” a creamy, rich gratin made with potatoes, lardons, Reblochon cheese, and crème fraîche. If only I could find thin-crust pizza this good in Montreal! Read my report at Serious Eats’ Slice here.

HOME SWEET HOME

After a whirlwind 10 days in France and 4 sweet days in NYC, I am home at last! I’ve never been happier to spot the Montreal skyline from the train window. To say I have lots of things to share from our Côte d’Azur adventure would be a massive understatement — I almost don’t know where to begin. (I did pick up a few tips on how to perfect my best Brigitte Bardot impression).

More soon!

REALLY FAST

Adam and I are in Provence! There’s so much to say, but of course my final meal before departing had to include a Montreal bagel. Everything here is intoxicating and incredible — we keep our noses up to the moving air like dogs, sniffing for new scents! — but with thoughts of Montreal not far away, I already have a running list of ingredients that I can’t wait to find when I get home so I can cook and eat them every day this summer: artichokes, grilled lamb, fava beans, olive oil, tomatoes, parsley, garlic!, olives, lavender, rosemary, thyme, dorade. Honestly, I kind of want to stay here forever.