Visiting Sophie

Do bees interest you? Are you at ease around buzzing things? Curious about all those different flavors of honey? Maybe contemplating having a few hives yourself?

Whenever I visit Sophie this interest deepens. She is so calm, so able, and so welcoming. During our most recent visit (with three lovely clients from Houston) we donned the beekeeper's garb and accompanied her to the box hives (ruches). She calmly filled her smoker -- not to calm the bees as many of us believe, but to make them believe their hive is on fire, at which point they gorge themselves on honey to beat their wings furiously to cool the hive. Hence, they are quite occupied with protecting themselves and don't react to the invasion and disruption of the beekeeper.

Thus armed, with both the smoker and this new knowledge, we watched as Sophie pried open the hive (the top is stuck to the bottom with the most sticky propolis), and removed a frame covered in bees. They buzzed about, moved about their frame, and left us quite alone. I felt just a bit hesitant, but not a one of us was stung.

We then headed over to her mielerie to see her new stainless steel centrifuge for removing the honey from the racks/frames and her extremely simple system of a fine-mesh strainer to catch the bits of beeswax before jarring her honey. She does not heat it, nor sterilize it. She simply jars it pure, ready and ripe from the hives. A gift of the bees.

After learning a bit about the many stages of a bee's life, the nutritional castration of the bees, and all the roles they hold throughout their 35-45 day lives, we were encouraged to taste. Hmmmmm Acacia, Linden Tree, Lavender, Multi-Flower from the Garrigue/Provence, and Chestnut. In a normal year, Sophie harvests Rosemary as well, and a multi-flower from the marshlands of the Camargue.

This year however, after 10 days of rain followed by 4 days of the powerful Mistral winds the Rosemary harvest is not possible, and the Acacia production will also be adversely affected. Ah well, we'll have to wait a bit more for the multi-flowers...

What is Sophie up to?

My beekeeper, mon apicultrice, Sophie Berton, is one of my oldest acquaintances in Provence. I met her early in the years of our business, when Leo was still a baby in a backpack, soon to be followed by the stroller. She became one of our first artisan visits, extending the culinary experience beyond the cooking classes. Many were the feasts of honey-laden dishes we enjoyed (and still do) in her wonderful home nestled in the woods off a dirt road running past a chapel from the middle ages (built upon an ancient Roman temple).

At one point, one of my favorite au pairs dated her eldest son, then in the early stages of his compagnonage (journeyman apprenticeship) as a stone carver (tailleur de pierre). I had great hopes of such an alliance -- I would have adored to have my au pair as a permanent neighbor and close friend, and also to be that much closer to Sophie. Ah well, that didn't work out, but Sophie and our friendship have stood the test of time and distance.

Since my move to Avignon, and my shifted professional focus (or simply the blow of the economic crisis and the ensuing dramatic lack of tourists which is happily coming to an end) not to mention the fact that I had been involved most every weekend with my vintner (this relationship now defunk) I hadn't been able to carve out the time to see much of Sophie. While I lived in Arles, we'd had the ease of my visiting her at the outdoor market in Arles nearly every week, and the frequency of my professional visits with cooking school clients to keep us close for most of our friendship. Now, it requires a bit of extra effort to find those moments to connect.

Single, with a weekend before me I snapped at the option of a party to celebrate spring at Sophie's today. And so off I went, dressed in summer attire -- the sun beating down upon us all--covered in sun screen, a straw hat atop my head.

What greeted me was an array of sights, people and feelings. I have always adored her home and her valley. It had often been a refuge for me from the city streets of Arles. A place where the scents of the wild flowers, herbs and trees fill the air, the buzzing of insects is ever present, and the singing of birds is just part of the atmosphere. Cars pass very very rarely on the her road -- and so you can revel in the sensation of merging with the natural world.

I found Sophie busily preparing omelets in the kitchen of her new home, friends working alongside. She has sold the home that used to greet me, and renovated a small ruin not far from it. She kept all her olive groves, and now lives in a tiny space just large enough for herself and the occasional guest (who observes the 3 day rule no more!), easy to heat, cozy and comfy. A bit tight in corners as she still has most of her art collection, library and accumulations of a life time to squeeze in there. But she's reduced her furniture needs to the minimum -- no more would fit in her space -- and exchanged what had been an ancient shepherd's shelter for a warm and far more luminous home. It fits her, if a bit snugly.

And, her projects have taken off. With her boys both grown and on their own, her former home sold for a tidy sum, she had the means to move forth in a way she had never been able to do on what she earned as a beekeeper. She has invested in a traditional yurt in which feasts, meetings, yoga classes and more now occur. She has built a new mielerie (honey house), put up a toilette seche, dry toilet, and is currently installing a lovely outdoor kitchen and area for showers.


She now welcomes visitors to learn far more than just what kinds of honey she can harvest. She is teaching medieval history through the lore of plants, food and tales. She is leading hikes, teaching about the world of bees and medicinal plants. And she is actively excavating and renovating the chapel across the road with an archeologist, historian and skilled stone cutters. Active, and yet seemingly finally at peace.

Sophie had always been someone for whom things came with difficulty. She was a grand complainer. Good humoredly regaling you with the difficulties of her situation (no electricity for 20 years) whenever you visited her honey stand. Was it simply her karma?

What I see today is a lovely woman who is finally approaching a moment of serenity, accomplishment and calm. She is still busy, surrounded by interesting and powerful women friends who tell stories, explore the sacred power of woman, connect with nature and shift the stones of their world. She is in her role as a teacher, a sharer of knowledge and place.

And in this place she welcomed her friends for a fête de printemps of omelets and quiche, salads and bread, cheese and wine and her best spice cake. News was exchanged, lotto played (a means of getting rid of some of her very large library...) and music filled the afternoon. What a lovely way to greet the warm weather!

I don't have Sophie's spice cake recipe for you. However I can tell you what she's told me. She uses a proportion of 1:1 for flour and honey -- thus this is a rich cake! She warms the honey to liquify it, just to a sizzle, no more, before pouring it over the flour. She lets it act on the flour a bit -- apparently her unpasteurized honey has a quality that helps break down the flour and initiate fermentation. Then she adds her other ingredients. She has a liberal hand with anise seed, something that it has taken me years to get used to. Having a mother who hates liquorice-flavored anything can mark you for a long time. (in my case).

Remarkably often, Sophie burns the bottom of her spice cake. A natural multi-tasker, over-extended, always chatting with someone, four or more things going at once, the occasional slightly over-cooked dessert is a standard in her house. But that doesn't stop her. And nor does it diminish the joy and délice of spending time at her table.

A Cooking Class with our Beekeeper

Unless otherwise noted, all materials on this blog are (c) 2009 by Madeleine Vedel

We left our home in Avignon mid-afternoon and set out to drive down the West side of the Rhône, over the bridge at Boulbon, through Tarascon, to the small village of St. Etiènne du Grès. Taking a road to the right of the old bakery, we climbed into the Alpilles. Soon the pavement petered out and we switched to a dirt road beneath the tall pines and green oak. Up and up, over bumps, and crevasses deepened by the recent rains, around a few switch backs, till we reached the crest. At this point Leo sat on the window sill for the last 100 meters, till we reached Sophie’s home, right across from the 10th century prieuré that lies in ruins. Rough and bumpy as it was, her road is actually one of the oldest roads in the region; the prieuré is testament to the passage of people by this route for at least the last millennium.

We arrived, letting Filou out to run wild, and headed into her home where we were greeted by her fluffy little dog (kind of a cross between a yorkie and a guinea pig) Chataigne (chestnut). Filou quickly found a gray kitten who hissed terribly at the intrusion.

While Sophie got things ready for us the kids ran outside to play hide and seek, cache cache, amidst the trees, huge laurel bushes and piles of bee hives (not currently in use). From her doorstep, it's a short jump into the woods and the wild asparagus, thyme, rosemary, bay leaves and fennel. A couple minutes’ walk leads to olive orchards, and across the path of the occasional cross country biker. Pines tower above.

Then, back to Sophie’s home and into her kitchen. Her kitchen is a tiny affair neatly filled by a large gas oven and a professional stainless steel sink. We set ourselves up on a table in her front room, a wonderful glass enclosed space encircled by the outside greenery.

Sophie had chosen three recipes for today’s class:

A salad of cucumbers in fromage blanc (or yogurt) with spices
A honey spiced roast pork, and
A honey and spice chocolate cake.

She loves working with fresh herbs and spices in her cuisine and shared this with the kids. She has nearly every herb growing haphazardly outside her house. Her spices are stored in an overflowing wheeled cart of warm-toned jars.



Hands washed, we got to work.

Sophie’s Cucumber Salad

Preparation time: 15 minutes

Ingredients:

One cucumber 8-10 inches in length, or two smaller cucumbers
2 tablespoons Olive oil
1 tablespoon old style seed mustard
2 tablespoons honey vinegar (may be replaced by raspberry or cider vinegar)
2 plus 2 tablespoons Acacia honey (mild Clover honey is an ok replacement)
250 grams or 2 cups fromage blanc (This can be replaced by plain yogurt)
1 tablespoon crème fraîche – can be replaced with heavy
Fresh picked oregano sprigs
Or freshly chopped chives
Or freshly picked tarragon
Salt and pepper

Utensils:

a chopping surface
a vegetable peeler (called an “econome” in French)
a chopping knife
measuring spoons
a large mixing bowl
a wooden spoon
kitchen scissors

To split the work Sophie chopped the cucumber in two width wise. Then she showed us how to use the peeler. She prefers peeling towards herself (but my mother has always told me to peel away from myself to avoid accidents…). After we’d peeled the cucumber, we split it in half lengthwise and scooped out the seeds in the middle with the pointed end of the peeler. Sophie also showed us how we could use a small spoon to do this. The cucumber has lots of water, so, either, we scoop out the seeds and then proceed with the recipe, or we slice our cucumber, sprinkle it with salt and let the salt draw out some of its water – this would take about an hour.



Since we want to do the recipe right away, we’re using the seeding method today. Once the cucumber pieces are seeded, we slice them into thin rounds and put them aside.

Then, in the mixing bowl, Sophie puts in the olive oil, the mustard, the honey vinegar and 2 teaspoons of honey. She carefully showed us that when using really runny honey, it helps to turn the spoon back and forth till the drips stop, and then to bring it over quickly to your bowl. Otherwise you can get it everywhere. She mixes these together with her wooden spoon till they make a paste. Then she adds the fromage blanc (or yogurt) and a spoonful of crème fraîche to give the dish a more “unctuous” texture, aka smooth and rich, but unctuous is such a great word!



Then out to the garden to pick some fresh oregano. We brought it back in and she let us snip it in two ways, both with her kitchen scissors and on the chopping surface with a knife.



We sprinkled this into the creamy mixture, and then added the cucumber slices. But before we stirred them in, Sophie sprinkled salt on top and a couple turns of the pepper mill, as well as the other 2 teaspoons of honey. Then we mixed it all together and tasted. We thought a bit more salt would make it better. And then, when we were all satisfied, we put the bowl into the fridge to take out and serve nicely chilled when we were ready for dinner.

Since our day together, we’ve tried this recipes for other dishes. For instance, as a sauce for spicy grilled chicken, or lamb it is really superb.