Do you ever wonder why you are drawn to France? If you are reading this, I suspect that France tugs at your heart strings, as it does mine. Do you know why?
I trace my affection for France to my grandfather, Grampi, whose birthday we are celebrating today. Born in 1906 in Uxbridge, Ontario, he would have been 106 years old. He died in 1997 and I miss him terribly. To mark his birthday, we are drinking Old Fashioneds in his honor, followed by a dinner of lamb shanks, pilaf, green beans, and a bottle of French wine. This was one of his favorite dinners.
Old Fashioneds have made a come-back in recent years—due to the popularity of Mad Men—but this was always my grandfather’s drink. We grandchildren (and, later, his great grandchildren) all knew how to make them long before we came of age.
Grampi was always the bartender, a role I am certain he did not relish because, as you well know if you drink Old Fashioneds, they disappear quickly. The bartender is always busy, especially if you use the standard Old Fashioned glass, as Grampi preferred, rather than the double Old Fashioned size. He might growl a little and was known to mutter something…
like “For Christ’s sake,” or “Death, where is thy sting?” but he always acquiesced and made our drinks.
He would line up the empty glasses, in alphabetical order, add the bitters and a little cherry juice—rather than sugar—followed by a jigger and a half or so of brandy—rather than whiskey—and then add the ice, lemon rind, and cherry.
“San Francisco style?” he would ask, meaning “no water, let the ice melt?” “Another cherry?”
We all knew he made the best ones. We were lucky to have studied under a master. But, our good fortune extended way beyond the fine art of Old Fashioned making.
We have France in our blood. Grampi descended from French nobility. His roots—and, by birth, mine—can be traced back to the patrician de Broglie family. A family whose members distinguished themselves in the wars of King Louis XIV and King Louis XV, who were princes and diplomats, writers and scientists.
My grandfather loved France. I always remember him studying his French phrases and long lists of verb conjugations. When he died, I inherited his French books and his hand written notes for his first trips to France. I keep them nearby and feel like my grandfather is nearby, too.
My grandfather had many jobs after he and my grandmother emigrated from Canada to the United States when they were 18 and 15 years old, respectively, although by the time I came along, Grampi was firmly ensconced in the wine supply import business. He imported corks, a job that took him to Europe frequently.
I was lucky enough to go with my grandfather and grandmother on one of those trips. At the risk of sounding hyperbolical, the trip changed my life. My family traveled a lot—Mexico, through the southwest states on our way to Mexico from California, up and down the west coast, into Canada, and back east to New York—but I had never been to Europe.
We began in Lisbon, the colorful capital of Portugal, drove along the coast to Faro in the Algarve Region, and dipped into the Andalusia Region of Spain, areas steeped in beauty as well as “cork trees,” and I was enthralled with every moment (well, maybe not with the baked octopus I was served for lunch with one of my grandfather’s clients).
But, it was our next stop that captured my heart: Paris. My grandfather kissed the ground when we landed, a heartfelt gesture that probably embarrassed the teenager in me but it wasn’t long before I understood his deep love for this country.
We stayed in a small hotel, Hôtel Duminy—it is still there in the same spot on rue du Mont Thabor—where I slept in a brass bed and was served chocolate croissants and tea in my room. That alone would have been enough to enchant me, but I came to love so much more. While my grandfather worked, my grandmother and I toured in the City of Lights. From the Musée du Louvre to Sacré-Cœur, from cafés to the Casino de Paris, we saw it all. I remember crossing the Seine with my grandmother one particularly beautiful day—brilliant sky, crisp air, Bateaux Mouches passing under us, and a perfect view of the Ile de la Cité —and my grandmother said, “It’s a glorious day.” In my teenage mind, I undoubtedly thought her term of endearment was, well, goofy, but like my grandfather’s kiss to the French terre, I get it now.
How fortunate I was to see my grandparents’ beloved France—my grandfather’s ancestral land—through their eyes.
My grandparents changed our airline tickets to train tickets for the last leg of our trip, from Paris to London. As we sat in the dining car at the tables draped in white linen and set with fine china, crystal and silver, we could hear corks popping, one right after the other, as dozens of wine bottles were opened and poured. My grandfather said that that was his favorite sound.
We will open our bottle of 2005 Château Crémade soon and toast to you, Grampi. He loved his red wine, too. Although as he grew older, it caused him to sneeze and he took to adding water to his wine and eventually stopped drinking it. It saddened me to see this, but I took comfort in knowing that he lived a rich life and enriched the lives of so many others along the way.
If you are lucky enough to travel to France with your grandfather and grandmother, then wherever you go for the rest of your life, it stays with you.
Bonne anniversaire, Grampi, et à votre santé! Merci pour tout.
That's a lovely tribute to your grandfather. I'm impressed that you can remember your experiences so vividly.
Lovely story and memories of your earlier life with you grandparents, also the beautiful pictures, I loved it.
Paul
What a beautiful story and reminder to us all to value our roots and past. Your words really brought back the essence of a time when things were a bit slower, and the photos are exquisite (please thank the photographer for me!) – I could almost taste the Old Fashioned! Finally, the memorabilia you have from your grandfather's books and of that trip – so amazing that you still have it – I haven't seen a hand-written ticket in decades! Thanks so much for sharing… ~ David
I love the story about Uncle C and Auntie B such lovely memories of a very memorable couple. I miss them too. He also loved his Canadian roots he taught us to love Old Fashioned's & all things Canadian. I remember having my very first old fashioned when we (with my parents) visited with them in Fresno. I have not had one in many years will order one next time I am out and toast Uncle C.
What a charming reminiscence. When I glimpse American families abroad and see their sulky teens glued to their electronic gadgets, sighing for the bland suburban high-school romantic interest back home, and rolling their eyes at everything their parents show them, I realize they have zero sense of curiosity, and wonder if — when they reach adulthood — they'll have any such memories to cherish about those travels. Thanks for sharing yours! – Mark
That trip was one of the highlights of my life. We relived it many times in conversations and photos which, I imagine, kept the details so alive. I didn't realize how thick my folder of information was until I opened it, after many years, and found old airline tickets, letters from TWA, hotel receipts, and lots of tourist pamphlets. I always think of my grandparents when I travel to France. Thanks for your note!
Amitiés,
Susan
Hey Paul,
Thanks for your compliments from England. I am happy to say that I've got a lot of English and Scottish blood, too.
Amitiés,
susan
And, I'm sure it has been decades since you have seen a typed personal letter from an airline company wishing us well! Did you note the price of the flight: NYC-Lisbon-Paris-London-NYC for $356.00!! The tax, incidentally, was a paltry $3.00!!
Amitiés,
Susan
Hi Jude,
"O Canada!" my grandfather was known to bellow out and then launch into the chorus of the national anthem of his native Canada! Canada remained in his heart until he died. You probably know that, per his wishes, he returned home to be interred in Burks Falls, a tiny town in northern Ontario (that can't be far from the North Pole).
So good to hear from you!
Amitiés,
Susan
So funny you should express these sentiments. Our family trips usually entailed long car drives, seemingly endless ones in my young mind. Time was passed with games like "car bingo" in which you endeavor to be the first in the family to spot something like a silo or a railroad crossing, a sighting that would enable you to slide a little plastic window over a picture of the object. The goal was to be the first to get five "closed windows" in a row. Most of the time there were no silos or train crossings, especially in Mexico, so we were compelled to come up with new objects to look for. It was the never ending game and inevitably devolved into arguments–and outright fisticuffs–between my brother and me that my mother would have to officiate. By the time we reached our destination, we were exhausted but who can rest when there were mariachi bands to hear and Tiachihualtepetl to climb. Our family vacations taught me conflict resolution skills and inspired me to see more of the world. Thankfully, we had no little electronic gadgets or televisions hanging from the roof! i remember all those vacations with great fondness.
Amitiés,
Susan
My memories of Grampi are far too long to fit on this site. I'll simply say that March 10th is a busy time in our family. It's when , from coast to coast, we race to the phone to remind each other that it's Grampi's Birthday and nt to forget to fix an old fashioned and raise a toast to him. He perfected the Brandy Old Fashioned with help from the bartenders at the Palace Hotel in San Francisco sometime in the 1940s. Through the years it has become our Signature Drink.
Grampi was handsome and full of charm. He was fond of show tunes. He would shuffle around the house, sometimes in his bathrobe, singing 'Rosalie" and "Oh,What a Beautiful Morning'. This year on his 106th Birthday, as is my custom, I made myself a "Grampi" Old Fashioned and turned on his favorite show Lawrence Welk. It was, as if they knew that this was a special day, they wer playing songs from the twenties,thirties and forties.
As I raised my Old Fashioned in a toast,I shed a few tears and said "Happy Birthday Grampi!! We love you and we'll never forget you, and Oh,how we wish you were here".
We are probably about the same age as I, too, spent many hours in the back seat of our station wagon with my siblings while Dad drove and Mom directed him. My parents loved National Parks. I think I have seen them all. My husband and I, in turn, chauffeured our children around the country every summer without any of the modern day devices that distract from one another and the world. I attribute our close familial relationships and my children's ability to carry on interesting conversations directly to these experiences. Thanks for a moving and provocative piece.
Mary B.
what a wonderful story.makes me want to go and make an old fashioned right now!!!!!! Be right back.
I'm sure that Grampi has befriended Lawrence Welk up in Heaven and that they were together directing the show. Maybe Bob Hope, too!
He's never far from us, is he?
I wonder if OF orders increased over that weekend?!
CHERS,
AVOIR LA FRANCE DANS LE SANG, ENCORE UNE EXPRESSION BIEN FRANÇAISE !…
ET JE ME SOUVIENS TRÈS BIEN DE L'INCROYABLE EXPRESSION (SENS DU MOT DIFFÉRENT) SUR LES VISAGES DU VIEUX COUPLE QUI DANSE (L'IMAGE DU BONHEUR) : J'AI DÛ VOIR CETTE PHOTO SUR UN MUR, À PORTSMOUTH, NON ?…
TENDRESSES VERS VOUS TROIS,
PIERROT
Dear Susie,
Max and I are reading again your lovely tribute to Daddy (or Grampi as many in the family knew him), and I have to admit that my heart always skips a beat when I am reminded how much we all lost when he drew his final breath. You have certainly shared the spirit of what he was like to travel with. Daddy had a great interest in many things, places and people, and he was always fun and full of intellectual curiosity about anything new. He had an Adele Davis book on nutrician that was as dog eared as the French books he studied in order to communicate with his business peers. He was also a very good correspondant telling us of his experiences every where he went. He was really quite an unusual man. Mom, God love her, gave him all the limelight.
Well done, Susie. Time for me to wipe my tears.
Barbara
P.S. Time for me to make the Old Fashions!
Max
Susie: I am pleased to have been reminded of your lovely grandparents and to have learned more about your grandfather. For several years I wore a "grampi hat" (as you used to refer to your grandfathers hat) and I smiled every time I put it on. The picture of them both almost seem to come to life. Aw, but would it could. I shall look foreword to a good Old Fashion this weekend and remember them both along with mmemories of you. Much Love Barry
P.S.
I recall he (or perhaps you) introduced me to Brandy Old Fashion's and there after I always asked him for a Brandy Old Fashion. I think I finally gave him a bottle of Brandy along with .a cool cock screw concealed as part of a leather duck's head! At the time it struck me as elegant and cool. I was young then.
BDQ
Hi Pierre,
Yes, you are right–that photograph does grace the wall in our house. And, I agree–the warm expression of sheer contentment is very moving.
Thanks so much for your thoughts.
Merci et Amitiés,
Susan
Hi Barbara and Max,
Thanks so much for your note. Grampi was, by all accounts, a character and a beloved one. You are so right that my grandmother–your Mom–did always stand in the background. I have a piece planned about MG, as we grand children adoringly called her, to come later.
Amitiés,
Susie
Dear Barry,
Grampi LOVED that cork screw! And, of course, it added to the production of pouring wine! You were like family to him. Thank you for sharing your fond memories of him….we all had a lot of fun together, eh?
Amitiés,
Susan