1er, First Market Day

First market day and Sandy describes me as a bloodhound on the trail as I plow eagerly through our daily market. The sights, smells and sounds are pure bliss to me and I know now that I can gather it all up, take it home and cook it up and I will eat like a prince!
Oh the "joie d' vivre", I've walked the entire affair, reviewed my options, sniffed-not touched, bad manners that, well ok, maybe I did sneak a feel or two.
The market vendors who return here daily, they are passionate about their bounty, they recognize their "regulars", me included, I am a curosity as well. There is the social "transaction" that must occour before the financial and it is not to be rushed. My failings with the language, shame on me, do not seem to deter this tradition, for we speak with the common language of beautiful, good, fresh local food.
What could be more elemental?
OK, now, let's see, for the salade, luscious carrotte- fresh with green tops, a little earth still clinging (they love that touch here, me too), radis- long tubular pink and crisp, also with fresh green tops and dirt, poivre rouge like enormous red lanterns, the concombre- long thin and crisp, what we call English, the tomate and heirloom variety (not here) called couer de boeuf (beefsteak) I could smell them even before I picked them up, and of course the salade- whole floppy heads of leaf lettuce, various shades of green meant to be eaten ajourdui (today). Salade complete!
Ahhh' the cavillion melons are here and that perfume, you just know this little beauty is going to be great. A box of fraises (strawberries) from nearby Carpentras, red thru and thru, must be eaten promptly- hope they make it to breakfast, yuuummm!
And of course the olives! A vendor for that too- olives & spices- the ladies are so sweet. Picholine avec fenuille (local green in EVO with fennel seed/stems) Sandy's
favorite and for me the little nutty black Niceoise in EVO with herbes d' provence.
Cest tutto? No madame, le pinons (pine nuts),and non chinoise (chinese), she looks at me , no monseiur, only francais! Oui madame, 100 grammes sil vous plait.
Some cheese, bien sur! (of course) got two fromagers here today and the specialte d' jour, Gruyere d' Savoie, French and at 25e/kg not cheap, but can't resist, 250 g sil vous plait.
Finally on my blitz thru - couldn't miss the big locally caught crevettes (shrimp)
pink, bright with only a hint of the smell of the sea. Sauteed in EVO/butter and garlic, tonight's dinner! Une demi killo sil vous plait, 24 big plump shrimps counted out before my eyes, .489 kilos @ 5e, 60 you betcha. Whoops, back for some of those little fingerling potatoes, encrusted in earth, the smell fantastic, I'll sautee them with the crevettes. Oh yeaah!
Oops, forgot aoil (garlic) pink and rosy and I'll pick up one of the ubiquitous potted basil plants, it's the size of a small shrub, better transplant to bigger pot when I get home. Sandy looks at it, smiles and sees her favorite, salade caprese.
Can't carry much more, our Harris-Tetter cloth bags heavy with bounty, but wait, must stop by our boulanger (bakery,there are 5 in the village) for a fresh baguette on the way home.
Sandy says, stop, we 've got to go home, we can't carry any more! I have to agree.
God, I love this place!!
Back at the house- unpack all of this glorious fresh food and stow it away.
12h and all the shops are closing, time for the 2 hour lunch, how civilized is that.
First, however, 2 Pastis, 51 of course, and some of those anticipated olives out on the patio- now this is how to start a two hour lunch! Slices of that warm baguette dipped into the olive "broth"- oh God! Sufficently lubricated, time to prep the just sourced salade. Chopping, chopping and more chopping- finely- brought my own knives for this-build the salade layer by layer- top with tuna in oil from the initial grocery run- some toasted pine nuts and vinagrette. More sliced baguette, EVO from the market in Bormes les Mimosas yesterday and oh yes,, a cold Stella Artois. Lunch done perfect! AAhh, snooze by the pool with a glass of rose d' St Tropez, yes, this is the life! Slippin' deep into the blue now!
Tan, if not a little red, fresh and ready for a visit to "the cafe", deux Pastis sil vous plait. Staff always remembers us from year to year and we them, fondly. "My chair" is still there, best view in the whole harbor and still the best pours. Questions/ Cest va? Cest va bien- everyone's well. Do you like futbol? Yeah I guess I do. We gotta get you a Marseille t shirt- I'm actually anticipating that, a few folks back home will really "appreciate" it.
Did I say, God I love this place!!
Back at the maison, a cold Stella to wash down the arduous 5min. trek up the hill. Thoughts turn to dinner, dix neuf, 19h, 7pm. The locals eat a little earlier here. About those crevettes. Chop off the heads, they weird Sandy out- set aside. Slice the petite fingerlings toss into a pan of quivering EVO, sautee until gold, add a little sliced garlic, shallotes & herbes d' provence, finish with a generous pat of buerre. The smell is rapturous! OK, toss in the crevettes, bit more buerre and seasonings, et viola! Yep ther'e ready. Add baguette picked up on that arduous if not a little wobbly trek up hill, some of that EVO, a simple salade verte with a chopped cour de beouf and vinagrette, simply delicious.
Yes!!
This is what i've been waiting for. Pure joy!!
More of that rose, AAAAAHHHHHHH!
But wait!, there's more! Remember the little cavallion melon- I do. Thinnly sliced, aromatic as hell, it's gone.
Not quite bedtime, wander back down the hill to the port and "the cafe" for deux expresso, sil vous plait. Two petite little cups of mud, but taste like the most awesome coffee you've ever had. It taste glorious, the harbor lights, the lights streched out along the bay, yeeesss!
have I said, God!!! I love this place!!!
And the blue now washes over me!
A biento
Cousin

Up the Coast & "Into the Blue"

As I roll with the train from Camogli, northward along the Italian Riviera, my first brush with the seductive charms of Italy nearly 12 years ago, passing thru town after town, many of whom I have known, I ask myself, what is it from Ventigmilia on, that seperates this glorious stretch of coastline from that on the other side.
To the north of Genoa is the most similar to the Cote d' Azur, broad sandy to pebbley beaches, resort towns looking much as they did in the 60's and 70's, ever popular with Italian families, sleepy now, but all too popular in July and August. For an Italian, it would be unthinkable to bathe until at least July. There are gems to be found, San Remo, belle epoch lady with her La Pigna (pine cone) old center, Bordighera with it's Monet captured gardens, Imperia with the best EVO in Italia and Alssio with perhaps the finest sandy beaches in these parts. Unfortunately, some of these little purpose-built resorts now seem a bit worn and sometimes a little claustrophobic, especially where town encroaches upon sea.
South of Genoa, Liguria's answer to Marseille or Naples, the townscape can alternate wildly between lovely old belle epoch resorts-Santa Margherita, too cute harbors- Portofino, comfy fishing village/resort- Camogli, uninspired concrete bloc holiday resorts- Rapallo, Chiaviari, Lavagne & the like, on past to nearly vertical green coastline of the too cute and too popular Cinque Terre villages, ending somewhere between the lovely Portovenere and gritty La Spezia, everyones rail stop southward.
I realize that my my observations may seem less than effusive, however, I really do love Liguria, I just don't seem to be able to "slip into the blue" here and I puzzled, attempting to reconcile that.
Real Time!
Stop in Ventigmilia, change trains, westbound for France via Monte Carlo, best little city/state money can buy, and yes, you better have plenty of it here!
Destination, Menton-lemon town, warmest and sunniest spot on the Cote d' Azur due to a fortunate blessing of geography. Can't remember now why it failed to pass muster in '06, seems perfectly charming as we depart the gare and head for old town. Center Ville,(Old town) is lovely and compact, like a "mini Nice".
Italian is still common here, for this part of France has been France for only about 100 years, a delicious melange of French, Italian and Provencal colours, tastes smells and sounds. It's been a fine journey here, but now to relax, a cafe, a carafe of rose and the promenade. I feel myself ever-so little bit "slipping into the blue".
Find myself having trouble changing gears from my piccola l'Italliano to une petit peau Francais, but here is forgiving, they too mix and shift between.
It's a grilled fish night and back to the lovely promenade for a touristy dinner by the sea. Dorade and a carafe of rose for both of us. Very good, not excellent, and as you would expect for the location, a little overpriced.
We both reflect, nearly 3 weeks and counting and we both yearn for some home cooked food. Resturant meals, no matter how good, can become tiring after so long. Oh well- that too will soon be changing.
Jarred back to "the moment" we both now sense some of what discounted Menton in '06. In a word TRAFFIC.
The most welcoming towns have been those who are the most pedestrian friendly, old towns largely restricted to foot traffic, streets lined with alluring little cafes to wile away the afternoon, little shops and resturants to tempt you with their charms.
Now about that traffic. Also thru an accident of geography, Menton is squeezed between mountians and sea with the result not much room for the restless flow of traffic. The promenade on the sea side is narrowed, the road busy and the frontscape of the town all truncated into by necessity, a bit too compact a footprint.
Unfortunate- for this town is not short on charms. The old town, distinct and seperate from new town as is common along the Cote d' Azur and no small part of it's charm, is as lovely and alluring as any. The pebbley beaches stretch along the entire length of the town with ample chair/parasol cafe distractions. The harbor an equal to any with multitudinous multicolor boats and masts bobbing and swaying with the old town profile ascending the hill- as a backdrop.
A jewel in it's crown, the city marketplace, a covered permenant year around affair. A feast for the senses. Truly gorgeous and visited weekly by the travelling market (more on those later). God, I just want to buy it all and cook, simply perfect.
We lunched at a little backstreet crepery, two towering salads for both, mine a Niceoise of course, actually a Mentonaise variant (Niceoise by name varies wherever you eat it, the only constant, tuna) washed with a carafe of rose. Sat next to a charming mother/daughter- Mentonaise, we would soon learn after the daughter asked in Irish lilted english (studied in Ireland) if we would mind if her mother smoked. Imagine that! Wow, France has come a long way in 15 years.
She knew where we were from, she had studied arts management at the College of Charleston, Une Petit Monde, and was now the manager of a dance company in NYC, Alvin Ailey I belive, and was visiting her mother for two weeks. Momma, who spoke no english, was understandably proud of her daughter and only too happy to try and chat with us. Times like this my inability with the language really frustrates me.
Oh- this is a great time to mention the European seating tradition. Places are small with little two person cafe tables side-by-side. Intimate for the pair at the table but warm and communal with your table mates on either side. I can't tell you how many fascinating times we have shared over the years, truly one of my favorite aspects of European culture and, sadly missing back home.
Menton for me, is not a culinary destination, fresh seafood and now that I'm in France, more abundant vegetables. Here I can follow my nose and the locals. I eat good and spend less.
Home was the Hotel Moderne, two star, quite reasonable @ 78e and very comfortable, conviently located close to the gare and old town. Perfect!
Menton, nearly perfect but for it's mixed blessing of geography and the traffic.
That being said, I do feel that familiar "slip into the blue" beginning and I suspect as I journey westward over the next few days, it will begin to wash over me.
A bientot,
Cousin