France Day 14 Paris – Full Circle

We wake up early.  Annamarie, the owner of the inn has breakfast ready.  I’m pretty sure she lives on zero sleep.  There’s no way she can get so much done so gracefully otherwise.  We pack, say goodbyes to our host and hit the road.  It’s a long drive back to Paris.  The French highways are great, very good condition, well-marked and efficient.  We still can’t figure out why every rest stop has at least two traffic circles, but we’ve long since accepted the roundabout culture.  The scenery from Buane to Paris is beautiful, mostly agriculture, the vineyards giving way to pastures as we drove. 

We only hit traffic for the last 10 miles or so, and even that still moved.  We decided return the car and spend the last night at a hotel near the Airport.  Turned out to be a good decision for a few reasons.  We check in to the Marriott, dump the bags and head to Avis.  It’s no small feat.  We find a building marked Hertz/Avis on the perimeter of the airport, but it’s not the car return.  Fortunately, one of the service drivers saw our perplexed faces and gave us a “follow me!”  Thank god we did, and it still took another 15 minutes to get to the car return, which was at the top of a corkscrew parking structure. 

We cab it to into Paris.  Probably a mistake not to take the train, as the cab took a full hour in Paris traffic.  It was stressful for us and we weren’t even driving.  On a recommendation, we head to Au Pied de Cochon (thanks Patty!), one of the timeless Parisian restaurants is the 2^nd arrondissement (district).  This is a place that stands on ceremony and tradition, so I’m guessing the menu hasn’t changed much since they opened in 1947.  The first restaurant in Paris to be open 24 hours a day, they specialize in seafood and pork.  The menu ( http://www.pieddecochon.com/en/menus/ ) is exotic to say the least, including dishes like “Crisps of Pig’s Feet and Snails”, “Veal Kidneys Flambeed with Cognac” and “Salad Saint-Antoine” which includes grilled pigs ears, snails, crispy crustaceans, calf eggs and pomegranate over mesclun.  I start with half a dozen oysters, but the wait captain (dressed exactly like what you are thinking) talks me out of The Real AAAAA Duval, convincing me that this traditional tripe sausage is probably too strong for the uninitiated.  He directs me to the sausage special instead.  Mandy, now way past her eating out limit, orders the onion soup (fantastic, even compared to others in France) and cheese board.  It’s cool and rainy so we are sitting inside watching the comings and goings of the staff and patrons.  The three-man business meeting on one side of us order desserts that wouldn’t fit in my suitcase.  The Greek mother and daughter on the other side catch our attention as mom gobbles up the “Temptation of Saint-Antoine Patron des Charcutiers”, which includes tail, ear, muzzle and breaded pig’s foot, all served with a side of Bearnaise.  I didn’t even know cured meats had a patron saint, but now I understand why it needs one.

It’s clearing up, so we decide to walk the neighborhood, see the sights.  At one point Mandy asks “what’s that building there?”  “The Louvre”, I answer, finally getting my bearings.  We decide to go back in.  We are really glad we had a guide on our first visit, as we had some idea of the lay of the land and the collections.  As amazing as this museum is, it’s equally overwhelming. 

We head towards the Latin quarter and Marais, just wandering really.  On again off again rain and we duck under awnings or into doorways when it gets heavy.  We see the iconic green boxes of the booksellers on the sides of the Seine, some trying to keep tradition but most forced to infuse souvenir shop tchotchkes to help revenues.  We cross the river and stumble across Sainte-Chappelle, one of the places we missed on Mandy’s list.  Commissioned by King Louis IX and opened in 1248, this royal chapel was built to house the king’s collection of religious relics including Christ’s Crown of Thorns.  Getting inside is a little odd as it’s now mostly surrounded by the Palais de Justice, the massive courts complex.  It’s worth finding your way in.  The stained glass is unlike any.  Fifteen unbelievably detailed stained glass windows, 50-feet high each, give the feeling that you are being lifted to the heavens.  Pictures cannot do it justice and we’re happy we saw it in person.  

It’s been a long day at the end of a long trip.  Café is in order.  We finish our walk into the Marais section.  We find a street lined on one side with cafes and with shops on the other.  We pick one in the middle, settle into our small table and order our afternoon drinks.  Ahhhhhhh, daydrinking.  We’ve come full circle in 14 head spinning days.  In the morning, we’ll be in the airport, schlepping bags, returning to real life.  But for now, for just one last hour, we’ll just be.  Here.  In Paris.

France Day 13 Beaune – Off Roading in Wine Country, Part Deux

We have breakfast at the Inn.  Mandy cannot get enough of the jams made right here by Annmarie, the owner.  The raspberry explodes with fresh berries, sweet and tangy.  The peach is mellow and sweet and Mandy is delighted every time she finds a big piece of fruit like a Crackerjack prize.  Some goes in our fresh made yogurt.  Some on those big flaky croissants.  Some more to compliment the selection of local cheese.  All with a big pot of strong brewed coffee and we’re some happy campers.  (Can you tell I’m writing this on an empty stomach?)

Across the street and through the wall and it’s time to see more of Beaune.  It’s Thursday. Market day, but the on-again-off-again rain has kept some of the vendors away.  We’re magnetically drawn to the husband and wife team, he selling olives, she the cheese.  We’re encouraged to sample and realize this is gonna be a foodie day.  The big plump olives are in several different preparations, and our favorites are the spicy mix and the garlic Kalamata.  He suggests the tapenades, and when giving me a big scoop of the garlic tapenade, he looks at Mandy and says “no kiss!”  She still cannot believe any self-respecting Frenchman would do anything to discourage kissing.  The generous cheese samples come next.  We pick a two-year and a three-year, one aged sharp and the other aged creamy and salty.  The next vendor has a remarkable selection of charcuterie.  We order 100g (about a quarter pound) of his signature cured hard sausage and some sun-dried tomatoes.  We wander through the shops in town and find the patisserie.  We order the 0.90€ baguette, long and crispy, with a pillowy interior.  Best buck we spent in Europe.  The clerk takes the loaf sets it diagonally on a sheet of waxy paper, grabs two corners and, with a quick twist and a “viola!” (pronounced “wa lah!”) hands us bread perfectly wrapped in a bow.  The French have such a simple way of making everything so… so… French!

We head out to explore more of the Burgundy region, this time south of Beaune.  We head toward Santenay to find Trois Croix.  We explore the villages along the way and when we get close, Mandy puts “Trois Croix” into Google Maps.  We know it’s at the top of the mountain, and the GPS starts us upwards.  Things get very familiar when the pavement ends and the little rocks turn to big rocks.  Although my respect for the little SUV has grown with each adventure, it still loses purchase on the big, course shale.  The tight switchbacks are especially challenging as we lose all momentum in the tight turn, then chunking big stones into the underside of the rental when we accelerate again.  Mandy is having as little fun this time as she had the last time, white knuckling the oh-shit handle.  But the GPS in her left hand keeps directing us up.  We stop when we see the big Charolais in the field beside what’s left of the steep trail.  The big white horned cows are raised for meat, and these four laying and grazing and wondering what the hell our Fiat is doing here.  We take a break and some pictures.  Mandy catches her breath and we decide to head back down, shut the damn GPS off and just follow the French road signs.  Like hiking, downhill, although assisted by gravity, tends to be the tougher half of the trip.  Same tight, rocky turns, same lack of traction, but now if I take one a little wide there’s the added attraction of the 1000 vertical foot drop.  One hand on the wheel, one on the shifter, one trying to keep Mandy’s heart in her chest.  Back on the paved road, we follow the signs (and the pavement) all the way to the parking area at the top of the mountain.  We really shouldn’t overthink these things.

We walk the last steep two hundred yard to Trois Croix.  Three Crosses, 25 feet tall each, overlooking the valley bestowing their blessing and protection.  It’s a dramatic installation and the fast moving clouds make it even more so.  There are a few groups of hikers up here carrying big bright colored packs.  We find a sturdy, table-height half round sign that will be the perfect place for our picnic lunch, offering great views and a flat surface.  As we unpack the olives, bread, cheese and wine, one of the hikers walks by starting his dissent and greets us with a hearty “bon appetit!”  The wind is blowing, the clouds rolling by, the wine is flowing, and the 360 degree views of the vineyards and villages are astounding.  We roughly rip the bread and take turns making new combinations with our gourmet ingredients.  If you’ve ever had the “best meal ever” discussion, you know it’s not just the food, but the entire situation around the food.  This is definitely top 10. 

On the way back to Beaune, we stop to see a still working windmill, the kind I associate with Amsterdam, not France.  We head on to Chateau de la Rochepot, a castle overlooking the village of the same name.  It’s beautiful and picturesque and we are, quite frankly, burnt out on the whole castle thing.  We walk around the grounds for a few minutes, take a few pictures and decide what we really want to do… nap and hang out at the inn for a while.  It’s a nice way to spend a late afternoon on vacation. 

Two weeks is a long vacation, and eating out constantly can become too much.  We did really good in that department.  Until Beaune.  Traditional French is delicious, but rib-stickingly heavy.  Even on a foodie day like today, we need simple for dinner.  We go to Brasserie La Carnot for a salad and a thin crust pizza.  Sitting in the sidewalk café, we see Lara and Jason, the couple from Denver from last night.  We make plans to meet up after dinner.  We connect in the square about 10:30 and look for place for a drink.  We figure we’ll give Les Coulisses Beaune a try because the sign and doorway looked cool.  Inside the doorway, we head down a hallway to a narrow set of steps down.  We walk into an amazingly trendy hip bar lounge space.  A wine cave reimagined into speakeasy, the low arched ceilings lend an intimacy to the place, and the vintage pop music and hidden lighting glow give everything a super cool vibe.  Groups of stylish 20-somethings, thin and beautiful, couples huddled intimately at corner tables.  I wouldn’t be surprised if a liquor commercial broke out.  We’re home.  One of the two guys behind the bar comes over to take our order.  Missing home and the American bar scene, Mandy orders a Jack, rocks on the side.  I order a Goose martini, but no Goose.  After some ribbing about this being the only decent bar in all of France and not having THE essential French vodka (OK, THE essential vodka, period) we take a recommendation for some Russian brand we have never heard of.  We spend the evening talking life, food, drink, work and travel with Lara and Jason, sipping and laughing.  As the hour gets later we are talking to the barmen more, too.  We learn that they are the owners and have recently opened after a year long renovation.  Super nice guys working hard to achieve their vision.  Around 1:30 We finally hit the wall, in this case, the curved fieldstone wall.  Some selfies to commemorate the night and we’re buzzily off to bed.  

France Day 12 Beaune – Grapes to the Horizon

We are loving this beautiful room, so we sleep in.  Delicious traditional breakfast prepared by our host.  Time to explore Beaune.  First stop Hospices be Beaune, also called Hotel-Dieu de Beaune.  The building is one of the best examples of 15th century French architecture, its incredible multi-colored glazed tile roof is visible from virtually everywhere in town.  The hospital was started in 1443 by Nicolas Rolin, a rich benefactor at the end of the Hundred Years War.  A wholly altruistic venture, this “palace for the poor” was designed and built specifically to give respectable care and comfort to the poor of Burgundy at no cost.  Operating continuously 1400s until well into the 1900s, we really liked seeing the history and evolution of medicine, pharmacy and caregiving.  Leaving, we wander through the streets of this walled city and notice the subtle differences between Beaune and Avignon.  While Avignon is more inhabited with locals, Beaune has become the mecca for wine tourists from around the globe.  Avignon restaurants tended to be more Paris café, while Beaune maintains a traditional French cuisine.  We were expecting same-same, but happily got the distinct personalities of each place. 

Next, to explore the wine villages north of town.  There are plenty of suggestions for wine trails on line and we find one that makes sense for us.  First stop Savigny-les-Beaune, population 1372, most of whom must have been involved in the grape harvest on this particular Tuesday, as almost every restaurant in town is closed.  Almost.  One tiny bistro has a small “Ouvert” sign out front.  We walk into Le Morgan, a literal one man show.  The happy, lanky man who seats us is also the waiter, bartender, chef, dishwasher and owner.  He helps us order and brings us delicious house red while we wait.  Despite other tables and other duties, his timing is excellent.  We split the goat cheese salad, fresh and light with the best cheese toast on the planet.  Mandy ordered the Troyes Andouillette Sausage, a local speciality made in the neighboring town of Troyes.  The spicy, savory pork inside is coarsely chopped, not ground, and it was served with an expertly crafted country mustard sauce.  I got the Gambas, giant prawn sautéed with and finished with lots of fresh herbs and crunchy sea salt. I love seafood, and these were beyond exceptional.  My language skills are non-existent, so when our host came to clear the dishes I used Google Translate to help me say “les meilleurs gambas jamais” because these really were the best shrimp I ever ate.  By his reaction, Mandy said I made his day, and I was glad because he really made mine.

We walk a few blocks (there only are a few blocks in the village) to Henry de Villamont.  The grapes are coming in by the trailer load, and the entire family is working under a big tent to sort and stem.  Inside, we do a tasting of both their whites and reds.  We’re no wine connoisseurs, but we really are starting to appreciate the difference among the villages and the winemakers in each village.  We pick a few nice bottles to take with.  Back on the road, we see a sign for “Panorama”. We’re tourists, we like panoramas so we turn up the hill.  There’s a small parking lot near the top and we walk the last few hundred yards.  We end up at the top of the mountain standing next to a 15 foot tall statue of the Blessed Mother, keeping watch over the entire valley.  The view is awesome, grape vines in neat rows in geometric plots stretching all the way to the horizon.  There are pods of transient farm workers harvesting and I am reminded of my hometown, The Blueberry Capitol of the World, in June when the berries are in.

Back at the B&B, we meet our innkeeper and resident winemaker Philippe for our tasting date.  We have seen inside the small winery but we are surprised when he takes us down into his very own Cave a Vin, an arched ceiling fieldstone basement lined with aging barrels.  Philippe has been in the wine business his whole life.  He and his wife started buying vines in 1984 and over time acquired the property we are standing in now.  He shows us the fields he now owns on a map of the region.  In the 1990s they decided to renovate the building into a 5 room luxury bed and breakfast.  We try two reds that are ready and they are the best we have had in France, complex, fruity, spicy and dry with a nice long finish. 

In town, we settle on F&B for dinner, a beautifully redone space right off the main square.  We meet Lara and Jason, a fun couple from Denver seated right next to us.  They are both in the restaurant business, she a manager at John Elway’s steakhouse and he a former sommelier now working towards owning his own place.  They here in wine mecca are celebrating Jason’s 40th and we have a ball talking with them.  We compare notes on wineries, restaurants and sights to be seen.  Easy to make fast friends here.

France Day 11 Beaune – Off-Roading in Wine Country

Up early without coffee, headed to Beaune, the heart of the wine county in Burgundy.  It’s about a three-hour drive, but it’s not just a travel day.  We pull off the highway in the Cote du Rhone region, and we’re stopped in our tracks by the site of small tractor pulling a huge trailer full of grapes in front of a winemaking co-op.  As I start taking pics, several more farm tractors roll towing similar bounty.  Once again, France pulled out all the stops for our trip, and here we are in the heart of wine country during the harvest.  We go inside LaCave at Les Vignerons de Gigondas for a tasting and learn what wine co-ops are all about over a few glasses.  The amount of grapes grown is highly regulated, and many farmers have just a few rows, not enough to make wine profitably.  So the grapes are brought to village co-ops where the winemakers (sometimes the growers, sometimes not) press, blend and ferment the grapes into their destiny.  Good stuff and we grab a few bottles for the road.

Down the road to the village of Seguret to visit Domaine de Mourchon on a recommendation from Rick Steves.  This is a more traditional winery, with Walter McKinlay and his wife Ronnie, the Scottish born vintners, owning the fields and the winemaking operation.  As we get out of the car, a big black lab, sensing a kindred spirit, walks right up to me and ushers us inside (Mandy thinks I was a big, wet dog in a past life).  Walter spends a leisurely hour with us, first taking us outside to see the grapes being sorted and crushed.  Back inside, he pours, we drink, and he tells us about winemaking in France – the trewia, the grapes, the regions, the hierarchy.  We meet the nicest couple from Norway who tow a caravan (euro-ish for camper) here every year to stock up.  Walter’s idea of a good wine and our idea of a good wine have a lot in common, so we ship home a case.  Ronnie also finds time to make and bottle her own skin cream and jam, and we grab some of that too.  Absolutely a great stop.

It’s 100-miles-two-tastings-and-no-breakfast o’clock so we decide we should eat.  Walter told us about a café in the village so we head there.  It’s our first real exposure to an authentic wine village.  Maybe 50 structures centuries old, huddled together on a hillside overlooking miles of vineyards.  Every second or third door a winemaker, virtually all with a sign welcoming you in for a taste.  The roads are steep, narrow, winding and cars in both directions share the one mountain side lane.  Its more picturesque than words can describe.  Once again we marvel at how all those artists over all that time were able to capture the beauty of this place.  We find a small parking lot, where they have trained the sycamore trees to grow their bows together into a lattice roof.  Up the hill short way and we find the Cote Terrasse.  The breezy, shaded terrace at Cote Terrasse give a magnificent view of the expansive fields of vines, the valley below and similar villages dotting the landscapes.  This is the French countryside vision of Mandy’s dream.  From this vantage we understand the relaxed but hard-working way of life here. 

Leaving the village, we turn right instead of left.  Or was it left instead of right.  No matter, GPS reroutes us up the mountain on some road oddly named “Unknown”.  As it turns out Rue de Unknown stops being paved the steeper it gets.  At one point, they ran out of little stones and we are bouncing over jagged, softball sized shale.  No worries, our 500X is Fiat’s idea of an SUV and I’m from the Pine Barrens.  I got this.  Meanwhile, in the passenger seat, Mandy does not got this.  She is not having the redneck good time that I am.  Not a little.  It’s always an adventure, usually not the one you set out to have, but always an adventure.  Loosing purchase on the steep inclines, the rocks pelting the underside of our mount, I wonder again if I’m getting the security deposit back.

Finally back on the road.  It is a travel day after all.  Many miles in, we wheel into a highway rest stop for some caffeine.  Sure coffee here is great, espresso, cappuccino, lattes, café au lait.  But no matter what we order, what we get is always a surprise.  A surprise, but served with a small cookie or biscuit.  Coffee service here is from very sophisticated coffee vending machines, more a coin operated barista then the scary things found in hospital waiting rooms.  Mandy is tickled at the menu choices, and while the machine is brewing our Americano it suggests a 0.20 Euro upsell.  We invested the quarter and are rewarded with a little door opening to reveal our treat Jane Jetson style.  I wanted to see if this incredible robot made veal parm, too, but Mandy said I had to go.

We arrive at Les Jardin de Lois, our bed and breakfast in Beaune.  We pull through the massive arched doorway and check in.  Annemarie, our innkeeper, is just back from the market and shows us the property.  Not only is it in a beautifully restored historic building, but it’s also a working winery.  While I’m carrying our bags up, I meet Philippe, Annemarie’s husband and the resident winemaker.  He’s just in from the fields overseeing the grape harvest, and invites us for a tasting tomorrow at 5.  If I was writing a novel, all of this would be simply too cliché, but here we are, real life imitating art once again.  If lunch was Mandy’s idealized vision of the French countryside, our room is Mandy’s dream of country French décor.  Formal and casual, comfortable and familiar, warm, soft tones.  It’s a place we want to be.

Dinner at Le Cheval Noir, family owned and one of the best rated in town.  Our first traditional French meal.  Prix fixe menu, almost all house made.  Five course meal with those other few courses thrown in, you know, just because.  My foie gras opener is perfect, rich and long.  Mandy had a cold tomato soup that was absolutely out of this world.  Mandy had the Beef Bourguignon, a regional specialty, and mine came with both a grilled fish course (cod) and a meat course (pigeon).  Yes, I tried pigeon.  Yes, tastes like chicken.  We were amazed at the portion sizes, each course being enough for an entire meal.  We finish with the cheese course, which in this case is a glass front cart that any American supermarket would be jealous of.   I pick a goat and a brie and the woman, the owner I think, cuts two huge portions and gives me the international head nod of “keep going”.  I pick another, another huge wedge, more encouragement.  The quality and preparation of the food was top-notch, the portions more than generous, and we are stuffed.  But oh, that cheese… was it good!

France Day 10 Avignon – Ohhhhhh, That Walled Medieval City! We Get It...

Our first experience with Avignon was not positive.  While our hotel ended up being nice, our innkeepers are lacking, so it dampens the experience a little.  We have breakfast in the courtyard, typical French and good, made even better by our first full, leave-at-the-table pot of brewed coffee in over a week.  Autumn is blowing in, literally; the strong winds from the Alps are ushering in cooler temperatures.  We go to explore the city.  Outside our front door is the Sunday market, more flea market than food.  It’s somehow mixed in with a local Renaissance festival inside and outside of a 600-year-old church, and yea, that works.

In the 14th century, Palais de Papes, was the seat of Christianity and the home of six popes.  The Vatican of its time.  Today it stands as one of the most historic buildings in all of Europe.  As it’s only 4 blocks away, we figure we should start there.  The place is captivating, the story of religion wielded as power, kings with landless kingdoms.  We find the pope’s chamber particularly fascinating, and his chief of staff’s chamber even more so.  Located right below the pope’s space, the heavy stone floor sections would be lifted to access the chamber below, which held the riches of the church.  Of course the ride ends in the Papal Gifte Shoppe, which we think is hilarious.

We leave the Palace and head toward the Pont Saint-Benezet, the famous medieval bridge originally built in 1177.  The bridge had been destroyed and rebuilt several times and was eventually abandoned in the 1600s.  The remaining four arches, going about halfway across the Rhone were built about 1345 and include a small chapel.  The engineer in me marvels at the still working drawbridge where the Pont meets the city.  Leaving the bridge, Mandy gets a taste of how it feels to defend a gothic city as she walks along the top of the city wall.  It’s one of those times you can tangibly feel history in the space and objects around you.  We can still sense the spirit of the average feudal foot soldier patrolling his beat, hoping for another boring shift and dreading the inevitable one that is not.

We explore inside the city and really love how the modern overlays the ancient.  In most places that I have been, this would have been cordoned off and filled with reenactors in costume playing the same role day after day.  Avignon, with all its history is not some museum.  It’s a modern city painted on an ancient canvas, complete with all of Richard Scarry’s Busy People.  Moms pushing strollers.  Students and retirees.   White collar and blue.  We wonder what it would be like to grow up in a place with such a  past.  To the people who live and work here, it’s just hometown F.R.A.  Inside the walls we find a fabric store and complete Mandy’s vision of table dressing with some bulk fabric and napkins.

Late afternoon drinks on the square.  A guy could get used to this.  I’m gonna have to take my customers out more afternoons when I get home.  Getting late, getting hungry.  Lacking dinner reservations, we google “best restaurants Avignon.”  The first few we call are booked.  We get the last table at Christian Etienne.  Sounds good enough, and 7:30 gives us time for one more.  Looking up, we notice that the clock tower dominating the square has figures in it, a man and woman dressed traditionally, but we can’t tell from when.  We wonder how many people the couple has seen over the centuries. 

The restaurant is right off the square, and we realize we should have done a deeper dive to know what we were in for.  A Michelin Star restaurant of the finest quality.  The people watching is great, from the special occasion table of six to the Asian business meeting to the British woman who, by the look on her pickled face, wished her fiancee would have found an Appleby’s.  Three prix fixe menus.  It’s one of the best harvests in years, so we choose the seven course Seasonal Tomato Tasting.  It ends up being around ten courses, one better than the next.  The trio of different color heirloom tomato tartare was especially tasty.  OK, so we thought the tomato gelato was a bit overreaching and a little too much Iron Chef.  I’m a novice at wine, but I think even the most experienced would have a tough time picking one to go with our meal.  We went with the sommelier’s suggested Chateuenuf de Pape white as a paring and it really complimented wonderfully.  Dark and quiet, we make our way home.  Helluva town