I never met Peter Mayle when he was living in Lourmarin—despite sharing a few friends, an affinity for Café Gaby, and a fondness for Château Constantin Chevalier rosé. I still harbor the hope that someday I may have the pleasure of his acquaintance even though, about two years ago, Mayle and his wife Jennie moved from their home in Lourmarin to the neighboring village of Vaugines. Ah, but that tiny village is just a few kilometers from Lourmarin and happens to be one of my favorite Luberon villages.   Vaugines is listed in only one of the many tour books I have on my shelves…

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Throughout the concert, there were film clips of Piaf in concert, including on the Ed Sullivan Show Édith Piaf was surely smiling when Thursday night’s vibrant tribute to her life and music opened with a animated duet of La Foule by French singers Nolwenn Leroy and Zaz. La Foule—“The Crowd”—is about the chance encounter of two people in the midst of a festive crowd who, as quickly as they connect, they are separated. So much of Piaf’s life seemed fated for disappointment, but this sold-out Francofolies de New York Festival was beautifully orchestrated to ensure a remarkable celebration of her life and music. There were…

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Over the valley, from side to side, and ever so high in the air, stretch the three tiers of the tremendous bridge. They are unspeakably imposing, and nothing could well be more Roman. The hugeness, the solidity, the unexpectedness, the monumental rectitude of the whole thing leave you nothing to say at the time and make you stand gazing. You simply feel that it is noble and perfect, that it has the quality of greatness. From A Little Tour in France by Henry James (1884) People often write and ask me questions about Provence. A common one is “which site should we definitely see in…

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“It’s a big wine….it’s a long story.” I bemoaned in my last post that I am not in Provence right now (as I often am this time of year). But, our recent tasting of four rosés from Provence, transported me to that part of the world —tout de suite and without so much as a click of my espadrilles. Ooh la la. That’s what good rosé can do. I landed in the tiny village of La Motte-en-Provence, in the Var, at Château d’Esclans from whence the star of the tasting hails. We had, for the first time, a bottle of the much-ballyhooed prestige cuvée Garrus…

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 August in Provence. It is hot and crowded. The line of cars inching their way along, hoping to snatch an open parking spot for the most popular markets is foreboding and the sea of people that fills the streets of those otherwise picturesque villages steals any of your remaining enthusiasm for the outing.  Reservations for lunch or dinner are impossible, a disappointment mitigated only slightly by the knowledge that the wait staff would be too cranky to bear anyway. And the lines of buses parked outside the famous sites are enough to deter even the most tenacious tourist. The lavender fields are likely to be barren. Even the sunflowers are looking…

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The luscious fig—its sweet flesh accented by crunchy seeds and enveloped by a deep purple skin—will soon reach perfection in Provence, arousing passions that border on obsession in folks who live in this part of the world. A cause for sleuthing, celebration, and, in Solliès-Pont, a lingerie fashion show that’s part of a three-day festival devoted to a particular variety of fig. I am a lover of figs—plain; wrapped in jambon de Parme; topped with chêvre or with Fourme d’Ambert cheese and a dollop of honey; arranged in tarts; transformed into jams and chutneys; or sautéed in butter and brown sugar and slathered atop vanilla…

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Nice was where we first touched down in the South of France. We were on our way to Aix-en-Provence and then, to our final destination, Lourmarin. We had a direct flight from Boston to this city, known as the capital of the French Riviera—so the itinerary was practical—but, really, who doesn’t want to delight in the beauty of the Cours Saleva Flower Market; walk along the famous Promenade des Anglais; and visit the iconic Negresco Hotel whose guest list has included such luminaries as Pablo Picasso, Marc Chagall, Henri Matisse, Edith Piaf, Frank Sinatra, Luciano Pavarotti, Ernest Hemingway, Lauren Bacall, Marlon Brando, Richard Burton, Elizabeth…

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I had a village house in Lourmarin, at the foot of the Luberon Mountains. Okay, I took some liberties with Karen Blixen’s opening sentence of her famous book, “Out of Africa.” My apologies, but like the young Ms. Blixen who moved from Denmark to Kenya, I, a beagle just barely past my first birthday, made a major move from the United States to France. Like Ms. Blixen, I left a piece of my heart in another country and, like Ms. Blixen, my view of life was forever altered. For different reasons, of course.   I am confident the indelible impressions that would eventually re-shape Ms…

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Le Quartorze Juillet, also known as La Fête Nationale or, especially in English-speaking countries, simply Bastille Day, is next Sunday.  July 14th is a French national holiday that marks the anniversary of the storming of the Bastille (prison) in 1789 and the symbolic birth of modern France. To learn more about the history of this fête nationale, please see an earlier TMT post. If you are lucky enough to be in France as you read this post, it will not be difficult to find a place to celebrate Bastille Day. Depending on where you are, there may be long parades, fireworks, airplanes decorating the sky…

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It’s Tuesday morning in Lourmarin and, as I drink my grand crème at Café Gaby, soaking up the morning sun and watching the passers-by, I feel pressure mounting. Our empty baskets rest on the chairs next to us and our shopping list—loosely composed so that what I find at the market can guide my ultimate selections—sits on the table. Which market shall we head toward this morning? There are so many markets from which to choose. Stress in Provence? Yup….but, oh to have such stress. Every day is market day in Provence, but not all days are as blessed as Tuesday, a day that can…

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