Sunset dinner at Le Mesculan in Seguret

Sometmes, it's just like a fairytale. Sounds trite, way over used and even a little silly - but there you have it. I made a reservation for dinner at the restuarant that I stumbled upon yesterday, while making my way to the "Musique dans les Vignes" concert, and tonight I ate at this perfect little jewel of a find that looked like it was right out of the pages a medieval fairtale. Le Mesculan, nestled in the hilltop town of Seguret, has the most glorious setting for enjoying your Provencal repas. You have the choice of outdoor eating on the centuries old stone and vine covered patio, with the vineyards and the chateau laid out before you below like an artfully aranged picnic meal. Or the small and intimate private room, with only two tables, just located off the entrance to the restaurant. I chose to eat on the patio and surround myself with the warm balmy evening air.

There was a very good selection of Entrees (the French word for starter courses, not like the American use meaning the main course), Plats (main courses) and desserts. The wine menu was composed almost entirely of selections from the local chateau so that you could really get a feel for the local terroir and how it affects the bouquet and taste of the wine. The prices were reasonable for a restaurant of that caliber (approximately 26-45 Euro for 3/4 courses). I wasn't hungry enough for a three course meal so I chose a single a la carte entree of Terrine de Fois Gras that was as smooth and creamy as I have had with a light, delicate flavor - which is just how I like it. I simply can't remember the origin of the wine although it was certainly acceptable. My waiter was friendly and obliging and didn't even blink an eye when I asked for my bol de glacon. I like my water really cold and I've found that the only way to make this happen in a French restaurant - whether you're in Paris or the countryside - is to, right up front when I place my initial order, ask for a bowl of ice so I don't have to keep asking the wait staff for plus glacons. I've gotten into the habit of doing this and it has assisted in the process of making the waiter my friend rather than my adversary.

I think for me, the evening meal was one of the more enjoyable exeriences of my vacation to Vaison and the surrounding villages. But truly the most memorable part of the evening wasn't the meal, or the great service, or the smooth and creamy fois gras. It was the feeling I had just sitting at the table, watching the sun go down and the sky turn to shades of magenta and purple, sipping a glass of cabernet, and thinking how lucky I was and wishing how I could simply freeze the moment in time. Hmmmmm . . . . but I already had.

Musiques dans Les Vignes in Seguret, Provence, France

I saw the advertisement for the Quatuor Antares violin concert at the Tourism office located in the center of town, located directly across the entrance to the Roman ruins of the Site Antique de Puymin. There is a wealth of information on all types of goings on in and around the village: Concerts, Theatre, Vide Grenier, cooking classes, guided historical tours, train rides around town - something for everyone. The office is staffed with local French people who actually want to help you and speak English (if you ask) although I was practising mon Francaise and did a fairly decent job of getting my questions asked and answered and obtaining the pertinent information I needed. I was looking for something special to do to get a true flavor of the surrounding area. And then it caught my eye, "Musiques dans Les Vignes". Wine? Mozart, Rachmaninov & Haydn on violins? {I digress, but here's a little piece of trivia I bet you didn't know - I didn't - unless, of course, you are a classical music buff. Wolfgang Mozart is the son of Joseph Haydn!} Under an arbor of entwined vines with the Provencal setting sun as a backdrop? What could be more perfect? And as luck would have it, the last event of the season was happening tonight, Mercredi 5 Aout. My timing was perfect - it made my decision easy.

Seguret is a short 8km distance from Vaison, not more than a ten minute drive by car or fifteen if you're driving slow so you can drink in all the surrounding scenery like I was. It is also classfied as Les Plus Beau Villages which means it has a population of less than 2000 people, has at least two historique structures within the village and was given a vote approval by the town council to be included. And beautiful it is.

This village is perched on the side of a hill, snuggled up close - one stone building after the next. The pebbled and well traversed alleyway of centuries old stone leading to the concert venue was dotted with picturesque maisons that looked like they had been plucked from the pages of a Peter Mayle book. The archway which framed the entrance posed the perfect photo backdrop for the concert. I could just barely see and get a small peek at the vineyard arbor with its twinkling lights delicately threaded through the vines waiting with welcoming arms for all the attendees to enter.

And when the musicians took the stage and began to play, I had to stop a moment, take a deep breath, and pinch myself. The melodic sounds emanating from their instruments, played in such beautiful harmony, with the composition of such delicate musical notes, underneath a blanket of hundred year old plus vines, on a warm summer night in the south of France, can you feel it? It gave me goosebumps. But the moment was momentarily tinged with a tiny but fleeting pang of sadness that my husband John could not be by my side to enjoy this special evening. And even though I was surrounded by a group of other lucky attendees, I felt a tad lonely . . . Silly, but there you have it. One and a half hours of the most soothing interlude of musical symphony . . . and to top off an already spectacular soiree, because it was the very last night of the summer program, we were treated to samplings of wines from the local chateau as a celebration and thank you for the completion of the 15th season of the "Musiques dans Les Vignes". And even though I might have been a little lonely, I wasn't really alone. As I was tooling home down the country backroads, with my windows rolled down and the rooftop skylight fully open to the starry sky, and enjoying the warmth of a balmy 22 degres Celcius night, I was kept company by the singing of the cicadas serenading me all the way on my journey home to Vaison-la-Romaine - a perfect finishing touch to a magical evening.

French Presentation.....is everything.

On Mondays in Vaison-la-Romaine, nothing really gets moving until later in the afternoon. In fact, some stores remain closed all day. So on this particular Monday, there was a lot of strolling going on and I was partaking of this relaxing ritual with the best of the rest of the tourists. And it never ceases to amaze me. The French follow the principle that presentation is everything. And I'm not even certain if this is a conscious effort, it just 'is'. You know that little scarf tied casually, but oh-so-perfectly, around the neck of that French femme strolling down the rue Boulevard Saint Germain in Paris? Or the piece of lingerie just purchased carefully wrapped in the colorful tissue and placed in the magnificently decorated shopping bag that makes the 10 Euro purchase look like you spent a million bucks? Or the window of the local dry cleaner around the corner on rue Amelie near our apartment on rue Saint Dominique that is strung with a clothes line upon which delicate, antique baby clothes are suspended and is surrounded by the perfect antique accessories to match? And THIS - the dry cleaner! You look at this picture of a flower storefront, bursting with color and the wheel barrow of lavender effortessly placed just so ... truly a feast for the eyes.

There is a book I recommend to anyone who wants to truly understand this phenomenon called "Almost French: Love and a New Life in Paris" by Sarah Turnball. In this great Francophile read which is one of my faves, she describes a scene she tumbles out of her bed early one morning in the apartment she shares with her then boyfriend, takes a shower, throws on her old sweat pants and unmatching T-shirt and flip flops, hair still damp and stringy, and of course with no make up and heads for the door to go to the boulangerie to get her daily croissant. Her significant other says to her softly but with surprise buried in his tone of voice (and I'm paraphrasing here because I can't remember the exact words), "You aren't going out like that are you?" She answers cooly with a deadpan stare, "Yes, why?" "Well, it wouldn't be nice for the boulanger to see you like that". And therein lies the difference between us and the French. Enough said. I rest my case.

In Suzy's Gershman's Maison Vaison

I forget how beautiful the sunsets are in Provence -until I get here, and experience it all over again. Pale orange melting into violet, surrounded by cornflower blue and touches of magenta all rolled up in one beautiful setting sun...like no other place on earth, truly. The calm, quiet sunsets and warm summer nights bring back treasured memories when I was on my la lune-de-miel with my husband John twenty five years ago. We spent a good part of our three week honeymoon in this part of France - Avignon, Aix-en-Provence, Les Baux.

And for the next twelve days, I am happily ensconsed in Suzy Gershman's (you know, the Born to Shop Lady) Provence maison. The little village of Vaison-la-Romaine is located about 45 minutes by car north east of Avignon, in the heart of the Vaucluse. The tiny rue Trogue Pompee faces the Site Antique de la Vilasse which is a fancy french term for Roman ruins. I parked my car, and I was following the written instructions she had provided to me to her home, but when I saw the front door, I didn't need to look up to confirm the house number - I knew I had arrived. I don't know if you can tell from the picture, but one of the door signs said "Happy Everything" and I knew instantly I was in the right place. And for those of you who have ever visited this area, you know that "Happy Everything" sums it up quite nicely.

My 3 Favorite French Words - Defense de fumer!

January 1, 2008 was a momentous day in France. It was the day that the "Defense de Fumer" ban in the restaurants, cafes, bistros and all public eating establishment went into effect. Hallelujah! It's safe to say that I'm an obnoxious no smoker - and that's a hard thing to be in Paris because everyone smokes, considering I'm the foreigner and I'm in their country (you know, when in Rome...) The popular bar located four doors down from our apartment on rue Saint Dominique, O'Brien's Irish Pub, was always rockin' and rollin'. And they always had loads of people, young people, watching the football (rugby) games on the 4 large screen TV's placed strategically in the bar area so no matter where you sat, you had a birdseye view of the action. It always looked like so much fun.


My heart was beating with anticipation when I finally took my first step inside. It was so great to cozy up to the bar, raise my hand to order a brewsky (or two or three ...) and know that when I went home that night my eyes wouldn't be blood red, I wouldn't have to hang my underwear out the window to air it out, and that I could go to bed without first washing the stink out of my hair. O'Brien's had just finished their remodel and the whole place looked great and was packed with fans of football who were cheering on their local team favorites. And with the dollar being worth close to nothing, the reduced prices for drinks on Thursday nights is a welcome enticement for further patronage. And just think, such a short "commute" home ... only three doors away. No designated driver needed, thank you very much.

Christmas on rue Saint Dominique

I have a set routine when I first arrive in Paris. Before I even make it up to the apartment, I must make a quick stop at the boulangerie next door to our apartment on rue Saint Dominique and grab a warm croissant. Nobody, but nobody does buttery, flaky croissants like the French do. This time was no different, but I was stopped before I even got inside by the Christmas decorations that had gone up since my last visit and changed La Boulangerie to a winter wonderland. The owners had even erected an entirely new facade on the front of the building with faux 'buche' (logs) complete with feathery soft snow, blue twinkling lights, wisps of branches, and even pine cones. The French are known for their beautiful artistic presentation - whether it be the wrapping of a purchased item of clothing from the local 'magasin' (store) in color coordinated tissue paper, the carefully laid out food dishes on a dinner plate, or simply the eye-catching arrangement of vegetables at the local market on rue Cler. It's important that it looks pleasing to the eye; they take great pride in this. I so appreciate and admire the extra work that goes in to all the beautiful decorations that are put up for the season. The festive Christmas lights strung across our street in a zig zag pattern up and down the complete length of rue Saint Dominique looked even more brilliant as the Eiffel Tower began it's hourly twinkling in the background.

I decided then and there that even though I wasn't going to be in our apartment for very much of the Christmas season, the act of decorating the apartment - regardless of the amount of work involved - would be worth it. And I bet the friends that we had staying in our apartment will be appreciative, too.

Paris Marathon 'Carb Loading' Dinner

Whether you're a marathon runner from San Francisco, Boston, or Paris it doesn't matter. Every great runner knows that the night before a marathon is 'carb loading' night and my husband John, who was running for the first time in the Paris marathon the next day, was especially looking forward to this evening since he no longer indulges in pasta like he used to, so this would be a special treat. We enjoyed the evening with our US/Paris friends - Jeff & Oriana Vick and our Paris friends - Patrick and Ghislaine Roussel who came in just to be with us from their primary home in Cholet to cheer John on. I decided on a special evening out at Il Sorrentino, my favorite Italian restaurant within walking distance of our apartment located at 12, rue Monttesseuy at the foot of the Eiffel Tower. Their specialty is a linguini cream dish prepared at your table and flavored with parmegiano reggano scraped from the inside of the cheese wheel that the waiter flames with cognac. It is one of the best pasta dishes I have ever had. The restaurant is so cozy and intimate; there are only 9 tables in the entire restaurant and the chef always comes out to visit and make sure everything tastes perfect. You really feel like family and that you are eating in their private home. Great food, perfect ambiance and to top it all off, l'addition" (check) will not set you back an arm and a leg.