Formidable foes

Although when thinking of the world’s current great military forces, Italy does not spring to mind, they actually have a powerful weapon at their disposal, which could wreak havoc on the globe if developed and wielded at large: the mosquito.
Now, as everybody knows, I’m from Texas, and we have HUGE mosquitoes in Texas, as do our neighbors in Louisiana, where you can see t-shirts with the ugly monsters on the front and “State bird” as the caption. But our massive mosquitoes have nothing on the petite yet feisty Tuscan variety. I call them “stealth mosquitoes” because they are incredibly fast and silent. I can be happily cooking in our beautiful kitchen with a view, and the next thing you know, I’ve been attacked, with no warning or time to respond.

You can barely see them they are so swift as they zip, dive and dodge any attempts to reduce their numbers. And compared to the familiar annoying whine of the Lone Star strain, these babies are totally quiet unless they get right up to and practically inside your ear, which they only do when you’re lying down to sleep… even then, they are fierce, as my ankles attest (I sleep with my feet outside the covers).

They also hit below the belt, while I’m working at the computer, and my thighs and knees have paid the price.

The worst is the unbearable, persistent itching that follows. These are venomous little insects! And perhaps patriotic… maybe they read my blog and somehow know that I supported France in the World Cup? In any case, I've only managed to smash 2 in the 5 days we've been here, so they are definitely winning this game.
Innocent travelers, be warned! (As a reminder, you can always click on the photos in this blog to get a closer view.)

A Room with a View

Here’s a couple of shots of the villa we rented (the view from my room, two sides). They don’t do justice to the gorgeous countryside and immense olive grove (and some fig, pear, plum, & walnut trees...) surrounding the property, which is on top of a hill, with the olive groves sloping directly down, making photography difficult. Our landlords make their own olive oil and charmingly left 2 bottles for us upon our arrival (along with a huge basket of pasta, sauces, snacks, coffee, etc. to get us through the first couple of days).

Judy and Mom have begun a ping-pong tournament. Judy is everyone’s favorite blond and the ideal traveling companion. She is permanently cheerful and enthusiastic, game for anything and a good sport (and as we’ve discovered, a very skilful table tennis player!) Not only does she always have an upbeat attitude, but she also manages to contribute an energetic and positive spin to every situation.

My favorite Judyism thus far on the trip:
On the first night of the trip in Paris, I took the ladies to my local Moroccan restaurant for some excellent couscous and tagines (my current craving being the lamb tagine with onions, prunes and almonds. So tasty that I almost consume even the prune pits and lamb bones…) We finished the meal off with the traditional hot sweetened fresh mint tea, which none of them had ever tasted before. After her first sip, Judy exclaimed in her bright and merry way “It’s like a hot chocolate only without the chocolate.”
How can you not love someone who says this in all seriousness?
Here’s a view of our first excursion to Florence.
More soon.

La Dolce Vita

I haven’t had much time to blog lately as I’ve been doing some much needed work on my apartment in Paris and gearing up for my two-week trip to Tuscany with my mom, grandmother and our dear friend Judy. Today I bought a fabulous Michelin map of Toscana, Umbria, San Marino, Marche, Lazio and Abruzzo (no. 563 in the Italy regional maps series). I lurv Michelin maps. I looked at 5 or 6 maps from various publishers and there is just no comparison in terms of legibility, aesthetics and what the French charmingly call «convivialité» which despite appearances actually means user-friendliness (in this context).

This is our third year in a row to make a big European excursion with this group. We started back in 2004, renting a house on the border of Provence/Languedoc Roussillon. That was by far the best rental house I’ve ever found and I would have willingly gone back there every year for the rest of my life if the owner hadn’t sold it that same summer (he offered to sell to me since we got along swimmingly, but sadly it was way, way, way out of my budget).

That summer there were 6 of us (my Aunt Lee and another family friend, Jane, shared the enormous 6-bedroom, 4-bath house with us, and we enjoyed drop-in weekend visits from my pals Emmanuelle and Cyndi, and my cousin Dion.) The pool and gardens were gorgeous, and of course we were well situated to roam around and see the sights (very close to the Pont du Gard, Avignon, Arles, Nîmes, etc.)

Last year, Judy, my mom and my grandmother (who is my dad’s mom, btw, and is 92!! a walking advertisement for eating right and getting plenty of exercise with a daily dose of chocolate for good measure…) and I met up in Bilbao, Spain and went on to San Sebastian before heading down to follow the Santiago de Compostela trail. After our pilgrimage, we then headed up to the coast and gradually made our way back to Bilbao. The northwest of Spain is a food-lover’s and tourist-hater’s paradise. We ate fabulously for scandalously little money, gaped at the stunning scenery, slept soundly in the lovely and spotlessly clean accommodations we found quite easily, and basically spent 2 weeks congratulating ourselves on having discovered this gem of a destination that only the Spaniards seem to know about (until I just now ruined it by telling you).

We have great expectations for this year’s journey. We have rented a villa again this time, with a pool, between Florence and Lucca, near Montecatini Terme. I’m looking forward to hearty red wines, soave whites, fruity olive oil, and plenty of sunshine, as the Paris canicule is long gone, having been replaced by late-October-like rain and chilly gray skies. The villa actually has internet access, so stay tuned for a posting direct from la Bella Italia.

I get by with a little help from my friends

Recently a number of you have sent encouraging and kind words about my blog, and each time it prompts me to reflect upon how lucky I am to know so many interesting, intelligent and wonderful people. I have been so fortunate in my life to encounter a variety of friends from different backgrounds across the globe, with each and every one making a contribution to my enrichment and happiness as a person. I am truly thankful to have developed such a terrific community over the years and honored to call its members my friends. When times are tough as an expat, I often play back a video in my mind of my favorite memories with my loved ones, savoring the images like a fine wine…and realizing that I have truly been blessed over the decades. This never fails to help me get through any adversity.
In a nod to Sandra Bernhard, “Without you, I’m nothing” and in another to the old Bartles and James ads, "Thank you for your support."

Food, glorious food

Click on these babies to get a close up of the ripe skin, bursting with flavor. You can almost smell them!

I love France because food seasons still exist here. I know when it’s spring because the asparagus and baby veggies have arrived, and summer doesn’t start until the first cherries and melons come up from Provence. When the oysters are as plentiful as the golden delicious apples, I know the temperatures will be dropping soon and bringing plenty of autumn rain. In winter, all the pumpkin soup I could ever desire starts off most meals of hearty stews or tender confit de canard with lots o’ potatoes.
All of these repasts are washed down, of course, with equally seasonal wines. Lighter reds, from the Loire Valley, go best with Spring, while the whites from the Maconnais and rosés of Provence (punctuated by the occasional Vino Verde from Portugal) cool down summer. For fall, the Côtes du Rhone contribute a fond reminder of August sunshine, while Bordeaux warms up the winter with toasty intensity. Luckily, champagne is appropriate and inexpensive year round.

Cheeses are seasonal in a special way in that their individual “personalities” are considered more appropriate at different times of the year. The moist, fresh goat cheese on your salad in June is a far cry from the runny vacherin that you scoop up with a spoon onto hearty bread in December. There are actually peak times of the year for certain cheeses (such as vacherin) depending on the ageing/curing process. However, this is one of the few staples of French cuisine that will truly be delicious all 12 months of the year. And anyone who thinks of themselves as an Epicurean or cheese-lover should follow the appropriate order in consuming the tempting array on their carefully arranged platter!

The culinary cycle is based on what is ripe, what is fresh, what tastes best at this particular point in time. While sometimes I miss the fact that in the US, you can satisfy a craving for anything at any time of year (and even any time of day or night, simply unthinkable here), when you stop and consider that the plums you so desire in January could not possibly have come from anywhere near where you live and therefore were not picked just as they were ripening… they kind of lose their appeal (and moreso when you see the price tag!) There’s a certain charm to limiting oneself to the foods that nature intended us to eat on Her schedule, and the markets and the menus here tend to be an accurate reflection of what is seasonal.
Right now is my favorite part of summer, as the cherries have just made way at my market to juicy nectarines, fresh-cheeked apricots and peaches and plump blueberries. Melons are still readily available, the tomatoes are bursting with flavor and raspberries literally explode on your tongue. I find great delight in the simple cucumber, with a sprinkling of herbs and a liberal dose of fresh feta straight from my local cheese shop.
Another thing I love about the French is that conversations about food and wine can last for hours; gastronomy and the pleasures of the table are among their top priorities, the basics, the crucial elements that make life worth living.
Vive la France et bon appétit !