A Winter Sunrise

Somtimes getting up early to bring your kids to school has its advantages, like when Nature decides to be splendid.

A Windy Walk one Afternoon

For this afternoon's walk I left my home and went west past the fields of my neighborhoods, now handsomely planted in winter wheat. From there I took a turn by my local garage to pay my outstanding bill for the spark plug repairs, and then across the road to the Western side of the island. It is far less appealing to walk along this side, but the views are beautiful nonetheless. Le Fort Saint André is perched high on a rock looking back at Avignon across the low lands of my island. There are a few house boats hooked up, including what looks to be a fun place for a dinner out. Before I got to the gypsies' camp, I turned back East towards Avignon, and my preferred little dirt paths between the trees, as always, faithful Filou at my side.








My local water bird (tern? -- where's my ornithologist brother when you need him...) is on his usual perch. The winter light is so brief, so sharp, so white. Just ten days now till the Solstice... Each morning I note that the lowering sun on the horizon over Avignon as we cross the bridge on our way to school. Today, no round, bright ball to blind me. Nothing but a few streaks of golden clouds.

A Misty Moisty Morning...

Somedays, it is simply a religious experience to walk by the side of a River...

Fall Foliage takes my breath away

Driving home after dropping the kids off at school I simply had to park the car just off the bridge and photograph. It was just too stunning, and yes, too amazing that I live in such a beautiful place. The fall foliage has come in, the sun was shining, the Rhône was calm and reflecting all those glorious colors. And there was the Pope's Palace, majestic on its rock above the city.

Just extraordinary.

A walk in the early morning

Inspired by my walks with my Scottish friend, and just because I do live in a beautiful place, and because I needed to do something with my thought-swirling, early-rising self, I set out for a long walk along the dirt paths at the edge of the Rhône, right beside my house. I walked slowly, savouring the mist on the water, the awakening world. As I progressed, many a morning jogger crossed my path -- a commonplace sight now in Avignon, and in France in general, compared to when I came to France at the age of sixteen. Filou and I met many dogs, most of whom were un-leashed like Filou. They did their moments of sniffing and getting to know each other, and then Filou trotted after me.


The only awkward moments are when Filou gets it in his head to bark at and follow a jogger. As one might imagine, no one enjoys this, and though he wouldn't hurt a flea, I do need to call him back and reprimand him. Hoping also, that the more he sees these people, the more accustomed he'll get, and then I hope, he'll stop this most anti-social behavior.

I tried to do some centering exercises that my Scottish friend showed me, holding my hands on my belly and back, feeling my body walk, sensing the shock under my feet, reaching up through my stomach and lower back. I straightened my shoulders, took in deep breaths, occasionally closed me eyes. I'm taking each day as it comes, and doing what I can for my wiggy brain and aching heart. Appreciating the beauty right beside me, contemplating what I have here, what is good in my life, is all part of it.

This summer, and much of this year, I've been wavering, and wondering. Where do I belong? Certainly, being out of my coupledom is unrooting me. But, then, why would I flee? And where to? I'm not a deeply rooted person. But I have some very dear friends, two in particular, to whom I can turn. My kids are doing well. This is a mantra I repeat often. And in their school, they've friends who are marvelous, from families I respect, who have outward-looking philosophies. Would I do better for them in the US? They will always have the choice of continuing their studies in the US, if they feel adventuresome.

I am seeking inside myself, what do I truly and veritably want? To write, to raise my boys, and yes, to love. Financially, I'm not there yet, but that could come and I think will. Amongst my moves this week is to receive most of Arles' real estate agents at the b&b to push the sale of said building. Yes, it won't sell at a top price due to the current economy, but, it's insane for me to be struggling so when there are funds there that are mine and which could help me get over this hump.


I've many pots on the burners: hiking and biking programs in Provence for next year, the two books (Provence teen cook book and my foodie memoir), potential collaborations with organic wine importers to the States, teaching English, I hope future translations. I'm getting good feedback from numerous directions, which has not yet translated into income, but I think with time it will.


I remember how it was building the original business with Erick. I would distribute flyers to the hotels, and we'd hear nothing, but the next year, a dozen people would come because they'd picked them up and brought them home. I'd go to the International Associaition of Culinary Professionals' conference, and there, I'd speak, chat, meet, and exchange and in the immediate future, I'd have new friends, but over the long period, many colleagues came and brought clients to us. Each and every effort bore fruit, if not immediately.

Even for JP's wine, Domaine Cabanis (see the website on the side bar). I've gotten it into the hands of Canadian importers, and it looks like things will come through there. And though it is not yet being imported to the States, I've increased his name recognition, shown his style and skills through my posts on this blog, shared the virtues of organic wine in general, and just possibly, all this "soft" marketing will pay off this year. Who knows?


Each act is a step in the right direction, and it all takes time and patience. So, if I can only get that b&b sold this year, recoup much of what I put into it, and thus have the flexibility and funds to go forth less stressfully... in any case, this is what I'm working to put into motion, one step at a time.

Back at my house, I sat down to meditate. I sat down to say thank you and to connect. I found the Anyusara mantra in my copy of Yoga Journal, and then, continued with Ahs, sitting before my window facing East, slowly teaching myself to seek calm and balance. It will be a long haul, but, at least this morning, I felt it.

A Recipe for a Cold Winter's Day

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


There's a recipe I learned from Erick way back when I first arrived in Arles that quickly became a favorite. In fact, I attribute the good health I maintained throughout my pregnancies, and thus the health of my boys, to eating lots of it! It is the Carbonade de Mouton. It also has the distinction of being a recipe that could only be destroyed if you added either veal stock or crème fraîche. It is a recipe built up slowly with layers of flavors that come together just marvelously. I never thicken the juices either, as it is one of the best soups I've ever eaten. As it is very nourishing, eating bread alongside would just weigh you down, but do have a large spoon.

This recipe has a story and a reason for existing, as many of Erick's do.

Once upon a time, there was a city, known by its Celtic name meaning city amidst the marshes (Arles) on a major river going north from the Mediterranean into Europe. It was a city with an immense market of wares and foodstuffs coming from all over the Mediterranean (and further away), to be then sold and redistributed across the continent. Many men worked on the multi-ton barges that needed to be physically pulled up the river to the northern cities of Avignon and Lyon. It was rough going bringing these barges up a river flowing in the opposite direction. In ancient time, teams of men (no doubt slaves) pulled the boats. Over time, the system shifted to horses, 80 of them. The Rhône river looks like a many branched tree from above. Many tributaries flow into it from the East and the West. Thus, those 80 horses couldn't just pull the barge up to Lyon in one simple trip. They had to be transferred from one side of the Rhône to the other over a dozen times. And these tributaries could be a source of flash floods, in which case the horses had to quickly be released from their harnesses and ropes, and the anchors thrown overboard to slow the movement of the heavy barge, and limit its backward flow. At all times, a couple men on the barge had axes to hand to slice the cords attaching the horses. The fastest trip recorded for one of these barges is about three weeks, Arles to Lyon. But the slowest was over three months. Ten kilometers a day was considered a decent pace. And, to accommodate these hungry and hard-working men and their horses, there were inns located every ten kilometers along the Rhône. At one of these inns, this recipe (or a variation of it) was a house-favorite for restoring these river-men. It made use of the plentiful and inexpensive local mutton (the region has had huge herds of sheep flowing across the dry flat former river beds since Roman times at least), fall and winter root vegetables, and inexpensive pinard.

Preparation time : 30 minutes ; cooking time : 2-3 hours

Ingredients:

One kilo leg or shoulder of lamb (2.2 lbs) (or about this much stew meat)
3 tablespoons olive oil (enough to cover the bottom of your pot)
2 slices bacon chopped in small pieces
one onion quartered
2 tomatoes quartered (not an authentic ingredient, but, it does add color and a tiny tang)
2 carrots cut in bite size pieces
1 large turnip quartered/eighthed
heart of celery quartered and chopped coarsely (a small celery root is fun to add in as well).
3 cups dry white wine (I just pour in a bottle)
300 grams dry white beans (10 oz) (soaked in water overnight -- and pre-cooked till somewhat tender) -- If you have fresh beans, such as cranberry beans, these are great and don't need pre-cooking.
100 grams of black olives (4 oz) (i.e. a nice handful)
3 bay leaves
a pinch of nutmeg
3 garlic cloves, crushed and chopped
water to cover
salt and pepper to taste

De-bone and cut your meat into large cubes, (or alternatively ask the butcher to do this for you).

In a large deep dish frying pan, heat the olive oil, add the bits of bacon stir till lightly browned, add the meat and brown quickly over a high flame till nicely caramelized. This step is best done in batches. If your meat renders lots of liquid, just suction it out and set aside to add back in later. You really want the meat nicely browned, this will add lots of flavor. When the meat is good, drizzle in a bit more olive oil and add in the onions, sautée till sweated (translucent) and then add the tomatoes, the carrots the turnip, the celery heart, the white beans, the garlic, the olives, nutmeg, salt and pepper. Pour in the white wine. Top off with water and cook either over a very low flame for 2 hours (or till the meat is very tender, an extra hour never hurts), or in the oven at 150C/300F for the same length of time.

Enjoy