Hello, everyone. We're safe and sound in our little corner of Provence - still getting to know our surroundings, but already acclimatizing to the French way of life. (Try saying 'acclimatizing' 3 times fast!)
Btw, here's a look at our corner of Provence:
(repeat this image in all directions, then intersect the streets at tight angles or traffic circles - and you'll get a good idea of our village)
One of the acclimatizing rituals we looked forward the most? Shopping the farmers markets. Each town hosts one on a certain day of the week. You can see the full schedule here. Lots and lots of markets to choose from, right?
And yet, five years ago, during our whirlwind drive through the region, we managed to miss every single one of them. We mis-planned. We were out of sync. The Moon was in the house of Jupiter or something.
Well, you can imagine our excitement this time around. On Sunday, bright and early (ok, just bright) we drove to the farmers market in Coustellet. Our hearts were light and our pockets heavy with euro-coins. And boy, did we hit it out of the park! Coustellet, it turns out, is one of the biggest markets in the area. It's also an easy drive from our house.
I say easy.
What I mean is short - with a nice sprinkling of narrow roads, crazy crowds and French-style driving. For some reason, I thought it would be fun for me to drive that day.
Market day.
In France.
And so I did - and as soon as we hit the town, I pulled over and got out of the driver's seat. I thought it wise to let my husband, the wunder-parallel-parking-kid, finish the job. Share the joy and all.
Some onlookers may have sniggered.
But our rental car escaped unscathed, which was the whole point.
And then... we were off! First, we came across the ready-to-eat stalls. We bypassed most of them with a Gaelic shrug (being by now used to the sight of mouth-watering pastry), but we did take a minute to admire this one:
Yes, ladies and gents, that is the world's biggest paella! Table for 50, anyone?
A couple of minutes later, we hit the vegetable stalls, and things got going rather nicely:
Then we were in the fruit stalls, which (I regret to say) dazzled us so much, we totally forgot about the camera. But here's our haul, from which you should be able to extrapolate:
We have strawberries, sour cherries, and cherries (the latter are grown a stone's throw away from our house).
Let me say that again: we have sour cherries! Big, juicy, tart-as-you-can-stand'em, wonderlicious, tastamazing sour cherries! Which, back in the US, are about as easy to find as a good eclair.
(Also: please excuse my feet. They knew that I could see nothing on my phone screen in full sun, and took advantage of it.)
And here's our vegetable haul:
The cast, from left to right: round zucchini (aka courgettes rondes), mint, chives, tarragon, radishes and basil.
All this bounty lit a great culinary ambition in my bosom. This, as anyone who knows me knows, is about as rare an event as finding a good eclair in US. But the Provence produce wove its magic - and out came a wonderful meal, low on calories and high on taste.
I think I'll leave that for another post, so I can do full justice to my work of art.
And now I'm off to enjoy my daily eclair!
Btw, here's a look at our corner of Provence:
(repeat this image in all directions, then intersect the streets at tight angles or traffic circles - and you'll get a good idea of our village)
One of the acclimatizing rituals we looked forward the most? Shopping the farmers markets. Each town hosts one on a certain day of the week. You can see the full schedule here. Lots and lots of markets to choose from, right?
And yet, five years ago, during our whirlwind drive through the region, we managed to miss every single one of them. We mis-planned. We were out of sync. The Moon was in the house of Jupiter or something.
Well, you can imagine our excitement this time around. On Sunday, bright and early (ok, just bright) we drove to the farmers market in Coustellet. Our hearts were light and our pockets heavy with euro-coins. And boy, did we hit it out of the park! Coustellet, it turns out, is one of the biggest markets in the area. It's also an easy drive from our house.
I say easy.
What I mean is short - with a nice sprinkling of narrow roads, crazy crowds and French-style driving. For some reason, I thought it would be fun for me to drive that day.
Market day.
In France.
And so I did - and as soon as we hit the town, I pulled over and got out of the driver's seat. I thought it wise to let my husband, the wunder-parallel-parking-kid, finish the job. Share the joy and all.
Some onlookers may have sniggered.
But our rental car escaped unscathed, which was the whole point.
And then... we were off! First, we came across the ready-to-eat stalls. We bypassed most of them with a Gaelic shrug (being by now used to the sight of mouth-watering pastry), but we did take a minute to admire this one:
A couple of minutes later, we hit the vegetable stalls, and things got going rather nicely:
Then we were in the fruit stalls, which (I regret to say) dazzled us so much, we totally forgot about the camera. But here's our haul, from which you should be able to extrapolate:
We have strawberries, sour cherries, and cherries (the latter are grown a stone's throw away from our house).
Let me say that again: we have sour cherries! Big, juicy, tart-as-you-can-stand'em, wonderlicious, tastamazing sour cherries! Which, back in the US, are about as easy to find as a good eclair.
(Also: please excuse my feet. They knew that I could see nothing on my phone screen in full sun, and took advantage of it.)
And here's our vegetable haul:
The cast, from left to right: round zucchini (aka courgettes rondes), mint, chives, tarragon, radishes and basil.
All this bounty lit a great culinary ambition in my bosom. This, as anyone who knows me knows, is about as rare an event as finding a good eclair in US. But the Provence produce wove its magic - and out came a wonderful meal, low on calories and high on taste.
I think I'll leave that for another post, so I can do full justice to my work of art.
And now I'm off to enjoy my daily eclair!
So does your fitbit approved of your daily walk to get your eclair? Looks like you are having a wonderful time and settling in nicely.
ReplyDeleteWell, it's my husband who goes out to buy the eclairs. :-) But my fitbit is not complaining. I do make a point of taking at least one long walk in the evening, when the heat abates and you can breathe again. And our house is one very long ranch, so I end up walking a great deal to and from the kitchen. :-) All in all, I'm almost nearly quasi-reaching my fitbit's daily goals.
DeleteI've been to that farmer's market! That very one! It's amazing!
ReplyDeleteCool! Did you live in Provence, too? Or were you just driving through - and better at planning than us?
DeleteI lived in Toulouse as a requirement for my minor in French. My Art History class took a trip to Provence and, in between visiting museums and churches, we stopped for lunch at the market. So my professor must have been good at planning. ;)
ReplyDeleteAs others have said, I'm thrilled you're getting this break. Also, I owe you an email. Y has been home for summer break so my personal time has been slim.