In rural France
A COUPLE of weeks in rural France in late summer is certainly good for the soul, if not the waistline! Long languid days, deep blue skies, pretty old stone towns with flowers tumbling from balconies in cheerful cascades all lift up the spirits. We were in Provence in the beautiful department of the Var in the South of France, an area of dramatic limestone hills covered with oak, pine and juniper and stony slippery paths fragrant with wild herbs – rosemary, thyme, fennel and lavender.
Country roads, village streets and squares are lined with huge gracious plane trees, still in full leaf, and apparently planted by Napoleon so his army could march in the shade. Serious planning for the future! Much like home, everyone is a gardener or farmer and at this time of year home gardens are dripping with tomatoes of all shapes, sizes and different colours, peppers, onions and pumpkins. Our garden was dominated by huge fig trees, olives and almonds and it was a joy to pick juicy black figs every day and work out what else to do with them other than instant fresh consumption. Olives and vines are cultivated everywhere on the hillsides and in the valleys but those are harvested much later – grapes towards the end of September and olives in November.
The weekly village market offers homemade goat cheeses, tiny salamis and thick country pates made from pork and herbs. Constantly populated for over a thousand years, this part of France is thick with history. Our tiny village perché (the term for the many hilltop fortified villages) is dominated by the ruins of a 12th century crusader castle commanding a 360 degree view over the surrounding landscape with any threat visible from a long way off.
Most of the streets are too small for vehicle traffic, so parking is at a premium in the tiny village square circled by church, fountain and ‘epicerie’ — the all purpose village shop. The current shop has only been open a few weeks. It’s a challenge in a small village to get enough business, so as an incentive, the shop is offered on a free lease by the mairie (the administrative village council) and an apartment goes with it for a nominal rent of one Euro a month! Conditions are that the shop must provide daily fresh bread, cooking gas and newspapers. We were avid supporters — popping in for morning coffee and afternoon apertifs of rosé wine served with tiny bowls of home pickled olives — the ideal place to watch village life.
With abundant produce on our doorstep, mostly we cooked in and enjoyed a variety of feasts. But we couldn’t miss Sunday lunch out – very much an institution in France. The noonday meal is taken very seriously and all schools, offices and services close for a minimum hour to allow proper enjoyment and digestion. Sunday is family day and we went to an unprepossessing bistro — Chez Jean et Chantal – just outside a village with the delightful name of Fox-Amphoux. Set meal of four courses costs 16 Euros. (about US$21).
Tables are laid in the dense shade of an enormous mulberry tree – apparently over 200 years old ” whose canopy sheltered maybe 50 people under its branches. We enjoyed a cold platter of home cured meats and patés followed by provencal lamb with melting garlicky potatoes, then a selection of lovely cheese and a choice of desserts – peach tart, ice cream or floating island. Accompanied by plenty of bread and the signature rosé wine of the region it couldn’t be bettered. Definitely the good life for a couple of weeks!
g.jeke@yahoo.com
