MY OAK TREE GROWS IN THE LUBERON

Thanks to a very generous friend, my family and I own an oak tree in Provence. Nestled in the thickly wooded hills of the Luberon between Lourmarin and Cadenet, is a large organic farm called Les Pastras (which means “the pastures,” in Langue d’Oc, the old Provençal language). There, grows our little tree. Les Pastras is now under the diligent care of Lisa and Johann Pepin, having taken the reins from Johann’s grandparents who purchased the farm some forty-five years earlier. It is comprised 11...
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LONGING FOR BLACK TRUFFLES, CONSOLED BY FRAGRANT MEMORIES AND PATRICIA WELLS’ “SIMPLY TRUFFLES”

Today is the third Sunday in January, otherwise known as “The Mass for the Truffles” in Richerenches: the annual blessing, auction, and feast of the black truffle. We’ve been there, huddled among the masses in the tiny church to witness baskets of black diamonds offered up to be blessed, walked with the parade of people to the Hôtel de Ville where our successful bids put several truffles in our pockets, and relished in the glory of a lavish meal devoted to the beloved Tuber melanosporum. I wish...
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