DavidandBevTravel.com

We leave tomorrow for Paris via the TGV for Avignon, so things will be a bit hectic, and we won’t post again until we get home.

Today we plan a lunch at le Potager du Mas, a new place just a few kilometers down the road in Orgon. highly recommended by Alex from l”Aubergine. A last visit to le Centre, then clean out the leftovers in the fridge.

Friday, off to Avignon, turn in the car and take the TGV to Paris. We have dinner planned for Dominique Bouchet, our favorite restaurant in Paris.

Saturday is dialysis at AHP, then we’ll stroll around and enjoy Paris.

Sunday am we hop on Air France and head back to FLA and Ms. Lucy.

Look for our follow-up posts and photos on Monday the 28th.

After all the rain and cold, today dawned with bright sun and temperatures that – while not balmy – were much warmer. A good day to go places and do things.

The morning was spent with minor housekeeping, and some time outside in the sun, then we headed off to Fontvielle for lunch at Chateau D’Estoublon and a farewell visit with everyone at la Riboto de Taven.

The sun was bright and the skies clear, as once again “mini-Mistral” winds were shooing the few wispy clouds from one horizon to the next. We arrived at Estoublon and strolled to the tree shaded-area in from of Bistrot Mogador. We were seated at a table that was in the lee of the château, so sheltered from most of the wind. However, there was still enough to make things a bit on the chilly side. A kir for both of us while a bottle of Estoublon white chilled, and it was time to order. I went for the mi-cuit salmon to start, followed by scallops. David kicked off with fresh asparagus followed by a roast dorade (sea bream). everything was excellent, and the service relaxed but attentive. The grounds here are gorgeous, especially when the sun is shining, so the meal was delightful, as was the stroll back to the car past roses, vines, and a myriad of flowers and vines.

Then it was time for some history and sightseeing – Daudet’s moulin (windmill) – just outside Fontvielle. The fame of the moulin came from its mention in the writings of Daudet, and people flock to see it, as we did. After a climb up a rocky slope, buffeted by ever-increasing winds, we came to the moulin. It was sort of a let down, as it is a pretty forlorn structure, neither big nor impressive. It ceased functioning almost a century ago, and its paddles are just frameworks, long ago stripped of the surfaces that the wind drove. At this point, the wind was howling, giving a good indication of why this spot was chosen for the moulin – lots of wind. Once the hordes of screaming school children departed, I scurried around taking shots from all angles. Then, our history and culture quotients being filled for the day, we left on the back road to the tiny village of Paradou. On the way we passed a more impressive structure, the remains of an old Roman aqueduct. With the wind howling, I shot photos from inside the car, with David obligingly maneuvering so I got get the perspectives I wanted.

After Paradou, and a short stop at the ATM machine in Maussane to get euro to pay the clinic tomorrow, we drove to la Riboto for some time with Christine, Philippe, Jean-Pierre, and Fred. Fred tried to dominate the occasion by bringing his jou-jou (toy) for us to toss for him. at one point he leapt into Philippe’s lap as though he was still a puppy. We caught up on all of the latest with everyone, enjoyed a cup of café and some chocolates, and leafed through a beautiful book with photos of the region that they gave us as a gift.

Then, with promises to return in October, we hit the road for the mas, winding through the pass in the Alpilles to St. Remy, then on to our home here.

After some more puttering – the beginnings of getting ready to leave Friday morning, we headed down to le Centre in the village where Chrystelle brought us our usual. After a bit, Patrick joined us and bought a round of wine. We shared many laughs, then we bought a round, more laughs, then Chrystelle bought one, and then we headed back to the mas. David made a sandwich, and we turned in early. Tomorrow is my last dialysis session here, and I want to be on time.

The soggy, leaden skies continue, but you can always find good food and drink indoors.

On our early morning drive to Salon, Mount Ventoux still lurked, hidden in dark grey clouds and mist. With our busy schedule for the few remaining days of our stay, it looks  doubtful if we will be able to make it to the summit on this trip. Oh well, another reason to return.

I had a hankering for pasta after almost three weeks without any, and remembered that L’Aubergine in the village had served up a nice risotto on our last stay in October, so we drove down and hopped inside. With the weather, the wonderful terrace was closed, but the interior was warm and cozy. We were greeted by Alex. the owner, who remembered us from previous visits and sat us down at the prime table. Our lunch was delightful, both the food and company. Alex filled us in on all the news in the area while I  dined on risotto with mushrooms followed by a brochette of scallops, and David asparagus followed by tuna. A white Domaine Vollongue wine quickly disappeared. Alex said that a friend was now at Mas de la Rose, a delightful place just on the outskirts of Orgon, about five minutes down the road from us. He said the food was fabulous so we should try it. He said he would tell his friend we were coming. We had just read a report on the new restaurant, so decided that it should be our Thursday lunch – our last for this trip in Provence. David has been writing up reviews on Trip Advisor, and posting some of my photos, and Alex noted that he had written a (nice) review for him. He asked if we could help with posting some photos for his restaurant, and we said we would be glad to help. Alex bade us farewell, with our promise to come back on our next trip, and we headed to the mas.

While doing some laundry, we noticed the occasional glimmer of sun outside, perhaps indicating that the sun forecast for tomorrow will, indeed, arrive.

Around seven we hopped in the car and headed to Les Baux for our dinner at Riboto de Taven. With the skies clear, and some sun to dry the roads, David opted to go “over the mountain,” a shortcut that saves about 10 minutes but entails winding, narrow roads. The drive was smooth, and we pulled into the parking lot in just 20 minutes. We were greeted by our friends Christine and Philippe Theme, and Fred, their wonderful dog. Fred likes David and brought him his toy immediately. Fred’s head is almost as big as Lucy, and he has a thick coat…perfect for rubbing.

After our greetings and conversation, we left Fred in the lobby (he is not allowed in the dining room), and began another wonderful meal from Jean-Pierre. Kirs were followed with a Mas de la Dame rosé. We both opted for Jean-Pierre’s wonderful stuffed zucchini blossoms, which we learned how to make, along with Darren and Anne, when JP was teaching a class at la Mirande in Avignon. I followed with a small serving of tarreau (bull from the Camargue) while David had JP’s excellent three-fish in bouillon dish. For this serving, JP used lotte, turbot, and hake. As always, the meal was fantastic, and then topped off with carmelized apples for dessert. another memorable meal at Riboto de Taven. We had vowed to try to leave early, as it is a long drive home at night, and we always take the longer/safer route through St. Remy. However, we had a delightful conversation that went on until we noticed at was closing on midnight. Time for us to leave and them to turn in after a long day.

In leaving, we did, however decide that we would come by tomorrow after our trip to Fontevielle to say goodbye for this trip. Then it was off, over the Alpilles, through the deserted streets of  St. Remy, and back to the mas.

Maybe we will have sun tomorrow.

Rain. More rain. Last night we had a major thunderstorm.

The forecast calls for rain through tomorrow. Good news for the farmers and residents who need it, but it puts a bit of a damper on sightseeing and relaxing on a tree-shaded terrace somewhere with a glass of wine and some olives.

Oh well. as the saying goes, if life hands you rain, make ice-water. However, the weather continues to delay our plans for the ascent of Mount Ventoux, and our crampons and oxygen bottles are till heaped by the door.

We spent the morning doing a little work on the blog, while the Miehle repairman worked on the coffee maker. It hasn’t been a problem for us that it was out-of-order, as we only drink coffee out, not in the mas, but now it is in working order, which will be good for the folks who stay here next. For breakfast, we both continued to nibble on the fresh cherries and strawberries we bought the other morning at the farm stand on the way back from dialysis. They are both wonderful, sweet and succulent. We will miss them.

Outside the gloom and dark continued, with the occasional major deluge. The wind has dropped, but it is chilly, to say the least.

A bit after 12 the repairman buttoned up the Miehle, and we headed back to Molleges to have lunch at Mas du Capoun, one of our favorite dining destinations in the area. While usually the street and parking lot are jammed, today there was only one car there when we arrived, and only one couple seated at a table. We figured that maybe the rains had dampened the enthusiasm of the locals and others who jam this place daily, but – in due course – people started streaming in.

The “menu” changed with the new week, and featured a choice of a shrimp brochette or ravioli with ricotta and lomo Iberico to start, and then a choice of Dorade (sea bream) or lamb for the plat (main course). David and I ordered a kir while we wrestled with what to order, and snacked on some delicious green olives. I went for the ravioli and Dorade, and David for the shrimp and Dorade. We went with a rosé to accompany our meal.

As always, the food was wonderful. Both appetizers were delicious. The Dorade was served over a bed of green olives and small onions that had been cooked in red wine. For dessert, I had a chocolate and pistachio mousse, while David went with a small cheese plate. We ended the meal with café noir, and then chatted a bit with the owner. She thanked us for coming by again, and said she remembered us from previous trips, correctly recalling that we were from Florida. We thanked her for the enjoyable lunches, and said we looked forward to dining with them again when we next return.

The rains began as we left, so we scooted for the car and drove through Molleges back to the mas. All the shops in Molleges were closed, as is customary on Mondays, one of the three days of the week that everything is closed in France.

Once home, we hunkered down inside, glancing out the window every now and then in hopes that we would see the endless ceiling of gray start to break up, but to no avail. We watched some bad BBC TV while deciding whether or not to go to the Cafe le Centre later for a glass of wine or a cup of café.

After a light dinner at home, we watched a bit of BBC, then turned in.

Every trip needs a down day when the weather is so bad you can’t do anything so don’t feel guilty for vegging out. That was today, so our post will be brief.

After puttering around the mas for part of the morning sprucing it up and doing some laundry, we decided to head to St. Remy for lunch. We arrived just as the rains did, and ducked into Saveurs de Provence, a small restaurant on the north end of town where le Jardin de Frederic used to be located. The menu looked inviting, and the interior cozy.

David was a bit bewildered as he couldn’t understand the waitress at all, nor could she understand his French. Despite all my jokes, he actually gets on pretty well here, as he says he can understand the French better here in the south, and people tend to understand him better, as well.

In any event, he was finally able to order two kir to start, our wine (Mas de la Dame rosé), and water. We then went on to the menu, selecting courses from the prix fixe. I started with a coeur de saumon (heart of salmon), while he went  for the brandade de morue (a local specialty made from cod and potatoes). Both were excellent, with fresh greens and a light vinaigrette. I selected the volaille (chicken) for my plat, and David had the tartare de boeuf. Again, both were excellent. The rain outside went from drizzle to downpour while we enjoyed our meal, then let up a bit as we exited, allowing us to get back to the car without getting drenched.

Then, it was back to the mas, with the rain increasing steadily until we arrived. Back inside we continued our Sunday chores, had a light dinner, and watched some TV.

Tomorrow we will be more active. Maybe we’ll conquer Mt. Ventoux.

From almost anywhere in this area, Mount Ventoux looms in the distance, at over 1,800 meters, the tallest thing around. For years, I’ve wanted to drive to the top, but something has always prevented us from going. Will today be the day?

Saturday means lighter than usual traffic, so we had a leisurely drive to the clinic in Salon. I presented the staff and fellow patients with the box of Joel Durand chocolates we bought yesterday in St. Remy, and they dove in.  I appreciate all they do for me, and their warm welcome, so some chocolates are a nice way to say so.

David checked out the route to Mount Ventoux and texted me that it looked like an hour plus, beyond Avignon and Carpentras. With a noon completion time for dialysis, and a stop for lunch, that meant a fairly long afternoon, and with the winds kicking up as well, we decided to try another day.

We wound our way to the mas, our idyllic drive interrupted only be the occasional nut job driver passing us at warp speed on the 1.5 lane road into town, then headed into Eygalieres for lunch. I wanted to return to the little la Brasserie d’Eygalieres on the main street. It is Michelin-starred chef Wout Bru’s more casual location in town, with wonderful food at (slightly) more affordable prices that Maison Bru, his premiere spot. We ate there on a previous visit after market day and it was very enjoyable.

When we arrived, virtually all of the sidewalk tables were empty, save one with two people who had obviously worked all morning to look very cool: He wearing a pink v-neck body shirt, jeans, and dark glasses; she wearing leather everything, with huge sunglasses that almost flew off her head every time she flipped her hair extensions – which was often.  They stared at us, apparently trying to determine if we, too, were cool people who had taken pains to disguise our looks with a facade of Americans trying to wear enough layers of clothes to stay warm. As Jean Reno and Alain Prost are among the residents of our tiny village (and Brangelina wanted to buy a house here), you never know who might be sitting next to you.

In any event, we were seated, and entered into the normal routine of David speaking French to the waitress with her answering in English. Flustered by his lingual stalemate, David forgot to order our usual kir, and we launched right into a bottle of Domaine l’Oule white wine, from just down the road. Bru has become the king of merchandising, including bottled water (tap water run through a small processor, then put in a bottle with his label in the kitchen and sold for $5 per pint.) But today would not be about the water or paying too much for good food, it was about enjoying the day.

Fresh bread with a spread made from artichoke and tuna came to the table, and was delicious, and gone quickly. David sipped the Bru water like it was Dom Perignon. He ordered cannelloni of salmon to start, then the tartare maison, Bru’s take on the classic dish. I ordered a special langoustine dish to make up for the fact that they had run out of lobster the night before, with a plate of frites. David’s cannelloni was superb, the “pasta” shell being smoked salmon, and the filling salmon cru (raw salmon). The light dressing was wonderful, with a few dabs of a marvelous sauce for an accent. expensive? We figured about $1 per molecule, but it was wonderful and worth it.

My langoustine arrived, and the chef had made up for the lack of lobster. They were fresh and cooked perfectly, with a wonderful sauce. The frites were also heavenly, not the usual deep-fried variety that are so good, but wedges of fresh potatoes lightly fried, then seasoned with a few herbs, and a wisp or two of scallion. David’s tartare was excellent – not the big, hearty version with capers and zesty seasonings  that is normal (and we love), but top-grade beef, lightly seasoned, and served with just a few drops of local olive oil.

The wine was perfect with both dishes, and after the last drop disappeared, we had a cup of café noir, the last taste of Bru water, paid the bill (expensive but not outrageous for food this good), and departed. David garbled something French-like to the hostess, and she bid us farewell in English…

All the stores were closed (what else) so we couldn’t get our normal baguette. The sign on the door of the boulangerie said they were on holiday, and would return in 2017 for two days, then close again for the balance of the decade.

With Mount Ventoux frowning at us from afar, we set our sites closer to home and headed a few kilometers down the road to Domaine Valdition, which was holding a fete (party) and wine tasting. When we arrived, we strolled out to the large lawn next to the wine-tasting room where several groups of sheep were cavorting and cowering. Never having seen a herd of sheep close up, we were interested in their behavior: They formed into groups of several dozen, all facing inward, with their heads tucked under the one in front of them. On the fringes were several families, mom and dad keeping watch over the adorable lambs. David said something to them in French – they answered him in English…c’est toujours la meme.

After watching as much nature as we could take, we wandered into the tasting room to … taste. We decided to try the rosé, so went through their four offerings. All were good, but one stood out. We calculated our ideal wine consumption until departure, subtracted the bottles in the fridge,  doubled it, and bought four bottles. This is really nice wine, and our tab for four bottles was 44 euro.

It was getting to be time to start prepping our first real home-cooked meal, so we headed back to the mas to start work. The menu called for roast farm chicken with rosemary (from our garden), potatoes, carrots, and asparagus. I made a quick chicken broth and washed the chicken while David peeled the carrots and asparagus. We got everything prepped and into the oven, and it was time to relax with some wine while dinner was cooking.

Chef’s pride notwithstanding, the meal was terrific. The chicken was moist and flavorful, the vegetables tender, and the aromas that wafted through the mas were wonderful.

After dinner it was to the living room where we caught part of an Agatha Christie mystery with Miss Marple and an episode of NCIS. Once NCIS was finished we retired early. Tomorrow, if the winds cooperate, we’ll conquer Mt. Ventoux.

It’s Friday, and a week has passed since we arrived. Market Day in Eygalieres is again upon us. The last one for this trip.

We awoke early to grey skies and the rumbling of thunder in the distance. The local weather pundits had told us that when the Mistral blows through, as it has over the past week, it is always followed by three-four days of rain. Other weather pundits had said that the post-Mistral weather was already changing, and the much-needed rain would be brief, if at all.

For the moment, the first group looked to be correct as grey clouds scudded overhead and showers came and went. At around 10, we decided to head into the village market, as we only needed a few things – a roasting chicken, some aged Comté (now our favorite cheese), ham, and some herbs for the chicken. The light showers shouldn’t interfere, and we could get a start on the day. We drove in to find the market in progress, albeit with a sparse crowd, made our purchases, and headed back to the mas to put everything in the fridge. Then we headed to the Intermarché in St. Remy for the bulk of our needs. Before leaving, David made a lunch reservation at Bistro Decouverte, one of our favorite hangouts.

The Intermarché was jammed, because the previous day had been one of 189 holidays here in France, and the weekend would be upon us the next day. I  found some socks in the clothing section (the Intermarché is like a U.S. supermarket with food, produce, clothing, train locomotives, the works) while David tended to our other needs – zesty Badoit mineral water, Sanguinello blood orange juice, fantastic Amora mustard to take home, and a few other items. Then it was off to our lunch at Decouverte.

We were seated at a table on the terrace, overlooking the tree-lined Boulevard Victor Hugo. While it was still chilly and gloomy, the rains had stopped, and the outdoor heaters kept us all toasty. We started off with a kir and ordered a bottle of Badoit as well. The menu looked great, as always, with many excellent choices. We both opted for fish, a grilled St. Pierre (like a turbot) for me, and fresh Dorade (sea Bream) for David. We decided that a bottle of Terres Blanches white would be good with both, so ordered it up.

In short order, the sun peeked through the clouds and the day got warmer, to the point that the restaurant started serving the overflow crowd on the sidewalk tables. However, after about 45 minutes, the clouds scooted back, and showers sent the outside diners under cover. They didn’t last long, and soon the sun was out and the sky was clear and blue.

We resisted the great desserts that Decouverte puts out and went with two café noir instead, finishing up our leisurely meal at about 2:30.

Leaving lunch, we strolled up the street to Joel Durand, who makes some of France’s best chocolates. I ordered a gift box for the staff at the dialysis center who take such good care of me, and will take it in to dialysis tomorrow. Even though I have two more sessions – on Tuesday and Thursday -  the head nurse, Otilia, and a few others will only be in on Saturday, so I want to make sure they share in the bounty.

The weather being nice, we decided to stroll around St. Remy. It is still one of the most delightful towns in the area, even though it becomes more crowded with tourists each year (we, of course, do not count as tourists because we each know three words of French.).  We window-shopped at the fabric store (Souleiado) and were tempted by the pottery in Terre de Provence. The color this year is a vivid lime green, which would look great in our house, except we already have every nook and cranny filled with stuff and don’t need more. Our favorite pastry shop had some “chocolate bombes” left. They are actually called le Tigre, but I dubbed them “bombes” when Darren was here and fell in love with them. They are basically chocolate pastry filled with a large dab of chocolate — you get the idea.

They have a fantastic produce shop in St. Remy, just opposite the Cathedral. It was not yet open, but a peek in the window convinced us to wait a bit and go back. We grabbed a table at a nearby café and ordered two kir to while away the time. In short order, we were back at the store and started perusing. This place has to have the best produce on earth! While we could have bought a lot of stuff, common sense told us we would never be able to eat it all before we leave in a week, so we limited ourselves to essentials and things we couldn’t resist…like beets, red scallions, onion, bibb lettuce, roquette (a peppery arugula), cucumber, “ugly” tomato, and avocados. I decided that we had spent enough time without pasta, so also picked up some artisan made fettucine. They were out of San Marzano tomatoes, but we know another source, so it will be okay. Adding all of this produce to the things we bought at the farm stand on the road to Salon yesterday (cherries, asparagus, strawberries) gives us a ton of good stuff to eat in the next few days.

We trundled our food and chocolates back to the car and high-tailed it back to the mas to put it all in the fridge, which is now close to bursting.

It was now well after five…time for Cafe du Centre. The tables were crowded, but we found an empty one and sat down for our usual afternoon session. David picked up a baguette and pastry, plus basil and San Marzanos, making us set for pasta night.

Then it was back to the mas where I put together a salad – fresh greens, tomato, cucumber, David’s croutons, avocado, hard-boiled egg, sausage with Roquefort, and Comté. Drizzle with my vinaigrette, and – voila – the perfect evening meal. Tomorrow I will do the Provencal roast chicken with potatoes and fresh asparagus.

Another episode of Murder She Wrote and we were off to bed.

Safe to say that we’re now becoming accustomed to life in France. No newspapers and just a smidge of TV to distract us from eating, drinking, and appreciating the beauty of the country. Our primary concerns are 1) eating and drinking wine; 2) planning where we will next eat and drink; 3) talking about eating and drinking; 4) thinking about eating and drinking. Today was no exception.

David dropped me off at dialysis at 7:30 after our normal drive through the villages of Orgon and Senas along roads lined with trees that almost formed a green tunnel. He knows where most the bumps are by now, so the ride is pretty smooth. I hop into the clinic where my French friends greet me with smiles and a few words of English they have learned from me. I answer in the few words of French they have taught me. Our common language is our common bond, knowing how precious life is and appreciating every day.

At noon, David picked me up to begin our quest for food, wine, and a special place to enjoy them. Our plan was to go to Fontevielle, about 30 minutes away towards Arles, and enjoy lunch at Bistro Mogador, which is part of Chateau d’Estoublon, a sprawling vineyard and olive grove that produces wonderful wines and olive oils. First we needed to stop at the mas to meet Guy Knox and pay him the balance for our stay and reimburse him for buying me a battery charger for my camera. Guy showed up right on time at 12:30 and chatted with David for a minute or two, then left with a wad of euro. Changed and charged, I hopped in the car, waved good day to Patrick who was fine-tuning the grounds, and we headed down the road.

Every day the countryside is more beautiful as more plants and trees burst forth with flowers and foliage. Our 30-minute drive took us through St. Remy and a series of small villages, Mas de Blanc, St. Etienne. Then we hopped in the back entrance of Chateau d’Estoublon.

The parking lot was full, and a glimpse of the tables said they were packed. Oops, didn’t make reservations. We were greeted and told that the outside tables were all booked, but we could eat in the inside dining/tasting room. They were featuring a buffet rather than the a la carte menu, so we perused the spread and ordered our normal kir and bottle of their excellent rosé. The young man who runs the restaurant told us that today was a holiday all over France (Ascension Day), hence the buffet. No problem, the room was beautiful, the food plentiful and appealing, and the wine luscious.

Three large tables groaned under the weight of salads, fish, meat, fruits, pastry, cheeses, and more. We both grabbed stuffed avocados. I added a couple of salads, a hard-boiled egg, and chicken. David went for the salmon (duh), ratatouille, and a potato and ham salad. I splurged with some desserts, while David opted for a couple of cheeses. Light and perfect, with the rosé providing the perfect match for the foods.

We paid the tab, made reservations for the following Wednesday, and strolled over to the little store that sells their wines, oils, souvenirs, and other items. We picked up a couple of bottles of rosé and some of their excellent olive oil, then headed down the road to Maussane.

While we knew that almost everything in France was closed (we think eventually France will be closed year-round…), we decided to check out the Moulin Jean-Cornille to see if we could pick up some tins of olive oil to take home. Their oil is marvelous. You can find it occasionally in the States via the web, but at over $60/liter, it’s pretty expensive. Here it’s about $24 per liter, plenty of incentive to buy it and take some back. Eureka! The mill was open, so we picked up some oil and headed home.

The mas looked great on our return. Patrick makes the grounds look terrific. We unloaded our stash from the car and caught up on some housekeeping and blog chores. I downloaded/uploaded new photos while David “tweaked” the copy (once an editor…)

Around five it was time to hop down to the Cafe du Centre. We sat down, and Chrystelle appeared with “the usual,” a carafe of local white wine. With the holiday, the village was jammed, with the tables at all three cafés filled. After an hour or so of relaxing and making snide comments about some of the “tourists,” we headed home.

As usual, it was a light snack, some horrible TV (tonight was an original Star Trek episode), and we turned in.

We awoke to howling winds. Actually, the winds were screaming all night long and woke us up several times. I thought the temp would be too cold to do anything, but, to our surprise, it wasn’t all that bad as long as you layered and donned a wind breaker.

So we hopped into the car, plugged in “Karen,” our GPS, and it was off to off to Uzès for market day. Being an hour drive away we trusted “Karen” to navigate us there quickly, but soon found she had other ideas. Apparently, she was annoyed that we hadn’t used her for a year but had made many jokes at her expense during that time, so decided to pay us back.

After checking for road construction and closings, and traffic jams, she picked the slowest route possible. We could almost hear her laughing when we said “she must know what she’s doing…” An hour and a half and one detour to the “Musée BonBon” later, we arrived in Uzès. So much for technology.

Uzès is one of the oldest cities in the area, and boasts of being “the first Duchy” in France. The old central area is crammed with magnificent old buildings, winding narrow streets, and shops of every sort. It has several markets each week, featuring local products, art, and food. It’s also near the famous Pont du Gard, a Roman three-level bridge/aqueduct that still stands and functions today. Well worth a trip.

We headed down the beautiful, tree-lined main boulevard and meandered to the central square, where the market is held. Wednesday’s market is only food, so we made the rounds of the stalls, checking out cheeses, the fishmongers, poultry, oil and vinegar, olives, and the like. While the poultry was fabulous, given that we wouldn’t be home for several hours, we decided it best not to buy any. We did, however, buy some pork sausage with Roquefort – sinfully delicious, and guaranteed to be good when we got it home.

After browsing the booths and some of the shops nearby, we decided to have lunch in Terroir, a little restaurant and food shop with tables on the square that we had heard good reports about. The winds had died a bit, and when the sun shone full force, it was warm and pleasant at our table. We tried the kir maison, which was made with a local blood peach and a rosé wine, and it turned out to be a real treat. The small pot of local tapenade served was also excellent, whetting our appetites. The small menu concentrated on local specialties, especially vegetables, so we focused on those.  I started with a puree of eggplant, which was terrific, and followed it with a Panini with eggplant, zucchini, and tomatoes, all on a crusty local bread spread with pesto. David had the beef tartare, made with Charolais beef and seasoned with Provencal flavors – peppers, pesto, and capers. Both our dishes were served with a garden salad, which was crisp and fresh. All in all, a very enjoyable meal, made better with a bottle of Pic St. Loup rosé.

Following lunch, we wandered around through the streets looking for something appealing to buy, but didn’t find anything that caught our eye, so we walked back to the car, hooked up Karen, and headed home.

While Karen blathered on with wrong directions and slaughtered not only French names, but numbers as well, e.g., “turn on route nineteen ah (19A),” we reverted to the good old days with what David calls “the Bevigator.” In due course we whizzed back through Tarescon to Maussane, where we wanted to stop to pick up some stuff for the house. I hit the Spar mini-market to grab what we needed, while David grabbed some jambon, a baguette, and a pastry for breakfast. Despite the wind, the square in Maussane was warm and sunny, so we sat down for a cup of coffee. After chatting with a few folks and relaxing for a bit, we headed home to the mas in Eygalieres.

As it was now well after six, we opted not to hit the Cafe du Centre, but instead grab a light dinner at home. We then turned on the tube for a bit to watch an old Murder She Wrote. We both wondered why folks weren’t concerned when Jessica Fletcher showed up, as someone always was murdered within hours. If she arrived at our house we’d head out the door screaming and not stop until we got to Alabama.

On that note of intellectual astuteness, we headed off to bed, as tomorrow is a dialysis day.

Another glorious day.

Off early for the clinic. The drive is easy and filled with great scenes of Provence – vineyards, stretches of pines, beautiful homes. When David picked me up it was time for lunch. Surprise Surprise - it’s always time to eat or drink on our blog!! David had made reservations at a quaint restaurant that we like, Mas du Capoun, located in Mollégès. The village is quite close to the farmhouse (mas), about six kilometers. We’ve eaten there before and found the food was quite good and the prices very modest – 22 euro for three courses, including wine. The restaurant is owned and run by a young Belgian couple who have established a solid reputation for good food and value. As a result, the place is always packed – reservations are a must.

We started with a kir, and then ordered our meal – for both of us the marinated salmon cru (raw salmon) starter, followed by a jambonette de volaille (rolled, stuffed chicken) for me and dos de lieu (a thick cut of sea bream) for David. We ordered a local rosé to go with our meal, and Badoit - our favorite mineral water. The service was warm (they remembered us) and the food excellent. David finished the meal with a small cheese plate (Camembert, bleu d’Auvergne, and St. Maure), and I had a wonderful fresh strawberry concoction. A café noir put the exclamation point on a great lunch. We promised Michele we would come back next week, and then motored off.

The mas was waiting, with a few chores to take care of. We brought Tide detergent pods and Bounce fabric softener sheets with us, so put them to use on our first loads of laundry. It might sound bizarre, but having a washer and dryer is one of the real pluses of renting the mas – you can pack lighter and do a load of laundry any time you feel like it. In an hour, I had fresh jeans, shirts, and more. Ditto for David. Tomorrow we will do whites and towels.

With domestic chores out-of-the-way, it was time for…Cafe du Centre. We grabbed a table, and Chrystelle dutifully arrived with our usual. David went to pick up a baguette and some allumettes (a pastry that looks like a matchstick, filled with chocolate), then returned so we could sit and relax. In due course, it was time to head back to the mas to prepare our evening repast.

Tonight was salad night, so I put together some fresh greens, red onions, homemade croutons and “ugly tomatoes”, then loaded a plate with hard-boiled eggs, cheeses, ham, and shrimp. My homemade dressing benefited from great local ingredients, earning accolades from all of the diners (David.)

After watching some hideous TV shows (the Brits have worse TV than we do), we turned in, hoping that the weather will let us go to Uzès tomorrow for Market Day.