A trip to Provence, accompanied by Julia Child

What is the greatest expat book of all time? So far, for me, it has to be "My Life in France" by Julia Child. These days it is easy for expats to get a book in an instant on Kindle. I still love the experience of paper copies though. I bought Julia Child's memoir of a life in France in Little Rock, Arkansas, hand carried it to Istanbul, and then to Provence, to read while when I went to visit my college girlfriend Robin and her family in July.

Last year, I delighted in documenting the pleasures of the Provence in ten different posts about my visit to Robin's house. This year was as wonderful and we did much the same things. First, there were the market pleasures in Loumartin to experience:

Perfect cherry tomatoes

Beautiful berries

more exquisite

by the small size of their boxes

French rabbits who gave their lives

in service to their country's cuisine

There were also the pleasures of food and conversation at the table. My friend Robin is a wonderful cook who knows how to make her family and guests feel loved by the smell, taste, and look of her exquisite home-cooked food.

Knowing I was coming from Istanbul, where access to pork in daily cuisine is practically non-existent, she indulged my cravings for all things pig while I was there. I think we had eight pork meals in a row!

My first breakfast in Provence.

Scrambled eggs and bacon!

Like manna from heaven.

A leek and bacon tart

Steak, mashed potatos and gravy,

grilled mushrooms and roasted fennel

Roast chicken, potatoes, and carrots.

Notice the French market preference

for keeping almost the entirety

of the chicken's feet on the chicken.

Warm leek and bacon soup

Fresh melon and prosciutto

Fresh berry tart

An English summer pudding

Oh, so delicious!

Serena, Robin and Jim's daughter, was visiting from Australia where she is working on her Masters degree in philosophy. It was so wonderful for me to see and listen to her. I had last seen Serena when she was in eighth grade. I enjoyed hearing her discuss her intellectual interests. Experiencing the children of our friends can be so delightful, don't you agree? It's a chance to appreciate our friend's life work in parenting.

Serena has grown up

to be as fine a cook

as both of her parents

Serena's apricot upside-down cake

inspired by famous food blogger

 David Lebovitz

Last year, I had told Robin and Jim about my favorite soup, Russian Cabbage Borscht, out of Mollie Katzen's "Moosewood Cookbook." Neither of them had tried borscht, so I promised to make it this year. I must need new glasses though, because in buying the tomato puree for the soup, I failed to notice two bright red chilies on the French-language label.

My soup may look like it is supposed to look, but borscht is not supposed to burn your tongue with chili heat! Oh well...our memories are always enhanced by the things that go wrong in a humorous way. I hope Robin, Jim, and Serena will give borscht a second chance after my Russian cabbage soup got a cross-cultural Latin American dose of extra heat! It's not supposed to taste like that.

Beet, cabbage, carrot, and potato goodness

Russian Cabbage Borscht

topped with yogurt and dill -

normally, healthy and satisfying comfort food.

I relished reading Julia Child's memoir of cooking and cookbook creation at the exact same time I was experiencing such interesting French food markets and food. Julia's joy in discovering the best in a culture new to her, and personalizing that knowledge with the creation of a cookbook celebrating France's cuisine was such rich reading. Provencal surroundings of French landscape and cuisine and dear friends who celebrated both enhanced my reading pleasure.

It was fascinating to me that Julia Child saw America in the polarized way of red and blue that we know today, even if she didn't use those familiar descriptive terms that were invented long after her book was published. She expressed such wonder in cross-cultural discovery and couldn't understand why her own family did not want to experience that same wonder.

Julia Child hit the sweet spot of publishing with her book when American women were cooking for themselves and wanted to make their meals as gracious and as beautiful as possible. I personally have tried cooking out of her cookbook and always find it too laborious and complicated. That doesn't mean I don't appreciate her achievement though.

I could not help but weep at the end of the memoir, such was Julia Child's fervor for the act of living and discovery and creation. What an incredibly well-lived life. Were she still alive, she would have turned 100 years old this week.

Robin and I traded books, and I started the book she was reading: The Happiness Project by Gretchen Rubin. Author Gretchen Rubin fretted that time was short and she asked herself, "am I focusing on the things that really made me happy?"

The book was an account of one woman's drive to do all the things that could contribute to a net increase in her happiness over the course of the year.

How fun it was to read two books in one week and discuss the ideas in each title with my friend. I haven't read two books in one week in years! In the afternoon, Robin and I would have a late afternoon swim and discuss what we had read. The week was a retreat in every sense of the word.

I love this woman!

Thank you Robin,

for a wonderful week with you and your family.

Last Meal in the Lubéron

After a week of getting to enjoy my best friend from college, Robin, and her husband Jim, it was time to go home to Istanbul.  I have never been around someone recovering from chronic illness. Jim amazed me with his ability to withstand the everyday discomforts of his recovery with good humor.

I kept asking myself, "would I be able to be as pleasant to be around, as he is, if I was in his shoes?" Because Jim's lack of balance, post brain-surgery, makes it hard for him to leave the house or even walk from room to room, Robin puts lots of thought and effort into how to bring the world to him. I hope I helped in some small way.

I asked her, "how would you take care of him physically if you didn't have access to your resources?" She said, with emphasis, "I have no idea." We were silent for a moment in complete acknowledgement of how hard it must be for those struggling with brain-tumor recovery in their family but no ability to hire someone to come in and help.

Life can be pretty easy when nothing is going wrong.  When everything is going ok, it's easy not to think about what would be needed when catastrophe strikes.  Robin is my second friend from the same Women's College we went to who has had a husband with a brain tumor.  Luckily, my other friend's husband was French, and he received outstanding care that his wife, an American, raved about. But what about those Americans at home coping with something so completely over-the-top health-wise as a brain tumor? What about those Americans with inadequate health insurance coverage or no coverage? How do they do it?

I can't help but think Europeans have the answer and show an incredible REAL sense of community with their willingness to extend significant resources toward each other when their health needs help. Everything I have learned as an expat has made me believe in the European version of health care rather than the American version.  The Europeans have it figured out. It's not just an anecdote, the data about who lives the longest backs them up.  

  Lunch al fresco

amidst life-long friends,

with amazing comfort food,

and wonderful French wine.

I will NOT THINK ABOUT

the fact that the chicken's feet

are still there.

Yikes, there they are.

I'D RATHER THINK ABOUT

all the lemons that were used

to stuff him inside.

There are the lemons: peeking out.

Thank you, my dear, dear friends

for a wonderful week

in your beloved Provence.

Until we meet again,

most probably,

 in Singapore.

Bisous!

You might also like:

The Start of a Week in Provence

Provence Inspires Me to Make My First Tart

Rendevous at La Maison Rouge

My First Provencal Market at Loumarin

Provencal Breakfasts to Savor

What is a cepe exactly?

The Best view in Cadenet, France is Now Free to All

Taking in the Provencal Charm of Cadenet, France

 Scenes from Farmer's Markets in the Lubéron

Scenes from Farmer's Markets in the Lubéron

For a week straight, my college friend Robin and I did nothing but shop and eat and talk to her husband Jim.  Jim, as a wine maker and a long-time restauranteur, was always the cooking showman in the family.  Now as he recovered from his brain surgery, Robin was the family chef, and Jim reveled in her skills.

Robin and I loved to go to the Farmer's Markets in the Lubéron and see what was on offer.  While the Loumartin market was possibly the most showy, the one in Cadenet was charming, accessible, and not too crowded. The people-watching was just as wonderful.

Beautifully-displayed zucchinis

  Equally Pretty Melons

A lovely French shopper

shows off

the sculptural quality

of the lettuce

This handsome couple

spends two months in Provence

each year and 10 months in Spain.

They showed me their French car.

It's called a 2CV.

They told me the design of the car

resulted when the French Government 
asked Citroën for a vehicle that could carry four people,

50 pounds of potatoes,

and a dozen eggs,

without breaking the eggs.

That is such a French thought, n'est pas?

It is an iconic vehicle

and much loved

in France.

Not every shopper

was full-grown.

The Cadenet Farmer's Market was set up on the Municipal Boules Court (the French game of lawn bowling). 

In nearby Cuceron, I had the chance to see another municipal place that French people had created for themselves: the breathtaking grove of plantain trees in Cucuron surrounding a city pond. I found it calming.

 There were restorative sidewalk spots to

enjoy the view of the Plantain grove

and the water.

A French woman sustaining their

worldwide reputation for chic.

When you see a pork leg
with the hoof still on it,
you're very aware it came
from a real live animal, aren't you?

Ack! I've written before
how American food writers say
Americans have the reality
that they're eating actual animals
kept far from them
by styrofoam and plastic film.
I know this ham is a delicacy.
I love this ham!
I have no desire to be vegetarian!
Facing this pork leg being sliced
made me so uncomfortable.
 It's so *real* served this way.

I love to eat rabbit,
at least fresh rabbit from
styrofoam and plastic film.
But...when it looked like
it had a pet name of Bunny
only yesterday?
Culture shock!

 The French version of a
lemonade stand.
This little boy was selling
packaged herbs.

Does your mail carrier look like this
back home?
Mine neither.
The Cucuron village mail carrier.
Everything is more glamorous in France,
even the mail.

The Best View in Cadenet, France is Now Free to All

On the road to La Mourrade

there is a turn-off for the ruins

of an old chateau with the best view

of the Lubéron.

 The ruins of the old chateau include a pool.

We got a kick out the fact that it continued

to exist uncovered

when citizens have to cover

their swimming pools nightly

per EU safety regulations.

 As we walked to the chateau

we looked back toward the town of Cadenet

to take in the beautiful village steeple.

  This walk was the ultimate playground

for European children.

What child could not grow their imagination

in these surroundings?

Do you think there might be trolls down there?

  To get to the chateau when it was active

required crossing the moat.

A nice bridge helps today.

  The view of the moat and the bridge from below.

Maybe trolls lives here?

Looking down at the scenic village of Cadenet

and the nearby sunflower fields.

The view of the Luberon valley went on for miles.

It was magnificent.

Robin told me the reason this chateau

was now a ruin was the people of France

attacked it with pick axes during the Revolution.

That gave me pause.

The American people are pretty politically angry right now

but not THAT angry.

Wow, imagine what it would take for folks

to be THAT angry

they are inspired to

bring down a chateau with pickaxes.

It kind of keeps things in perspective, no?

How far do you think that is?

10-15 miles?

 Looking down at the village bells.

Jim had told me the village experimented with

eliminating them

for three months but

everyone wanted them to ring again.

When men are out in the olive groves,

they hear it ring on the hour once

but they don't catch the exact number of rings.

They then listen for the bells to ring a second time

to actually learn the exact hour.

  If it is time to go home,

they go wait

by the side of the road

for their wives to pick them up.

Even laundry is pretty in France!

We started to encounter houses as

we walked down toward the village.

 We descended into Cadenet to continue

walking around the village and to enjoy a local cafe.

May American liability lawyers never discover this place.

Ssshhh, don't tell them.