Today I co-posted with David who writes the food blog entitled Cocoa & Lavender. See his blog for one of the recipes mentioned in this post!

Sud-Ouest Wine Region.  Taken, with permission, from www.winesofsouthwestfrance.com

The Modern Trobadors Research Center: A Domaine de Pouy makes the deadline

A beautiful 2CV by Cafe Gabe in Lourmarin

I always wanted a Deux Chevaux. I first saw that much beloved French car when I first visited Paris in 1972. I remember thinking that something that funny looking must have been a model car project gone terribly awry. A sardine tin on wheels. But there were so many...partout.

Château Roubine, from whence the rosé I am drinking comes, is built atop Knights Templar property. In the center of Provence, in the heart of the department of the Var, in the town of Lorgues, lie these vineyards on land once owned by the (in) famous medieval order of the Knights Templar.

More on Château Roubine’s refreshing rosé to come, but right now I want to pursue the Knights Templar. This once powerful military order, formed in 1119 and sanctioned by the Catholic church in 1129, is back in the popular press with the recent release of Dan Brown’s new book, Inferno. Knights Templar lore played a pivotal role in Brown’s earlier blockbuster book, The Da Vinci Code, and is relevant to his current book because it draws upon the first part of Dante’s Divine Comedy, entitled “Inferno,” which is said to have been inspired, in part, by the persecution of the Knights Templar.
Dan Brown, native of nearby Exeter, New Hampshire, was in his hometown last night signing books and, at the very same time, I was drinking this rosé made from grapes grown on Knights Templar land. Hmmm, is there a connection? Was this a sign? Is there a conspiracy? To add to the intrigue, I was wearing my grandfather’s Freemason ring. Well, whether influenced by these connections or the wine itself, I found myself looking up the Knights Templar.

Every day is market day in Provence, but not all days are as blessed as Tuesday, a day that can boast an inordinately large number of terrific markets within an hour’s radius of our stomping grounds in Lourmarin.

Bassin de l’Etang in Cucuron

Usually we go to Cucuron, one of my very favorite markets in Provence. In just minutes—the village is just 8 kilometers from Lourmarin—we can find ourselves tooling around the Bassin de l’Etang, a stone pool that is spring fed and dates back to the Middle Ages. Giant plane trees frame the Olympic size pool and, in the warm summer mornings, offer a welcome canapé of shade. Vendors line three sides of the pool and, in the summer, spill over into areas beyond both ends of the water. Cafés line the fourth side. 



It is a relatively small market, particularly in the off-season, but the vendors are especially good (year-round). Our favorite sources for fromage, rotisserie meats, and honey are regularly there. In the summer, the market swells to include, for example, a fellow who sells wines from Châteauneuf-du-pape and a vendor with racks of...
very fashionable linen clothes. The produce is excellent. In addition to the rotisserie, there are other wonderful prepared foods to pick up—from pizza to Vietnamese food, our food experiences have always been very successful in this market.


Regular TMT readers know that we also really like the market at Gordes, about 26 kilometers northwest from Lourmarin. The setting of this relatively small market is also lovely: it wraps around the base of a medieval château, a scene that will be familiar to fans of Ridley Scott’s A Good Year, based on Peter Mayle’s novel of the same name, starring Russell Crowe, Abbie Cornish, and Albert Finney.



Not surprisingly—it is Gordes where, every summer, well-heeled Parisians flock to hang their hats in their très cher vacation homes—this market is an upscale one that focuses more on gourmet foods, fine linens, and arts and crafts than on produce. (A good head of lettuce may be hard to find.) It is a colorful and vibrant market that is definitely worth a visit.


Saint Saturnin-lès-Apt, just 16 kilometers farther (from Gordes), also has a Tuesday morning market. It is smaller and not geared to high-end tourists like nearby Gordes; in fact, the whole village, although lovely and charming, has not made tourism its mission. Nonetheless, remnants of its medieval past entice tourists to veer from the beaten paths to see this picturesque village of rambling streets and beautiful doorways. There are ruins of 11th-century walls, a huge château and adjacent chapel. If you want a very nice market without busloads of people, continue from Gordes to this pretty village. And, do walk up to the ruins as there is a remarkable view of the countryside and the Luberon mountains. (You will see why this area is a popular destination for hikers.)


The tiny medieval village of Lacoste, just 17 kilometers northwest from Lourmarin, offers another market option on Tuesdays. If you are off to market early, you might consider stopping here and then going on to Gordes (12 km farther). The market is small and primarily consists of fresh produce and locally made products; the venue and views would be the attraction.


Lacoste, like Gordes, is a perched village and, in fact, if you choose to go directly to Gordes along the D36 (through Bonnieux), you can clearly see the ruins of the 11th-century château where the notorious Marquis de Sade once lived. Actually, aristocrat Donatien Alphonse Francois comte de Sade did not move in until the 18th century, but he is clearly its most well-known resident with his violent sexual practices having inspired the word “sadism.” The village is also known for its early Protestant sympathies which, in 1545, led to the pillaging of the village and slaughter of its Vaudois inhabitants. The château is now owned by Pierre Cardin and is undergoing extensive renovation. The whole village is experiencing a somewhat controversial cultural awakening with Cardin’s summer music festival and the events of the Savannah College of Art and Design.

Château ruins in La Tour d'Aigues.  Photo by Veronique Pagnier

La Tour d’Aigues, just 17 kilometers from Lourmarin in the southeastern direction, offers another market on Tuesday mornings. This market is one of our long-time favorites for its wide selection of luscious produce; if you want more than food, save this market for another Tuesday but if your goal is to find high-quality ingredients for dinner, this market is for you. You will see many local folks doing their shopping. The market is set on the town square, dominated by the remaining walls of the 16th-century chateau. The sheer size of the château walls, coupled with the beautiful detail inherent in its Renaissance style, reminds the visitor that La Tour d’Aigues was once an important town in the region. Work is currently underway to restore what is left of the castle. L’Ange Gourmand is a good choice for an enjoyable lunch and, if you are returning to Lourmarin, you will drive by our favorite ice cream shop. A stop at L’Art Glacierwould be a nice way to wrap up the afternoon.


Beyond the hour-radius of Lourmarin (that characterizes the aforementioned markets), there are more markets. Consider the Tuesday markets in Vaison-la-Romaine, Tarascon, La Ciotat, Banon, Beaumes-de-Venise, and Lorgues—excellent markets in wonderfully inviting locations that are well worth the drive. Combine the markets with other activities and—voilá—you have created a most memorable day in Provence. For example, visit the extensive Roman ruins in Vaison; tour the fascinating medieval castle in Tarascon; see lavender fields and taste chêvre cheese wrapped in chestnut leaves while in Banon; taste the famous fortified wine made from Muscat grapes in Beaumes-de-Venise; or a taste all colors of wine at Château Roubine in Lorgues.


There are still other markets—flea markets—on Tuesdays in Aix-en-Provence, Apt, Stes-Maries-de-la-Mer, and St-Tropez.


And, if your love of markets is not yet satiated, visit Lourmarin’s evening market, a “marché de produit de bouche exclusivement” which means that it is a market of products exclusively for the mouth. All products are limited to those that are culinary-related as well as local and many are biologique (i.e., organic). 


You will find fruit, vegetables, fruit juices, wine, olive oil, honey, jams, cheese, and meats. From May through October, from 5:30 to 8:30 p.m., in the newly renovated former agricultural cooperative across the street from the center of the village, you will find local chefs cooking and patrons sipping wine, listening to music, and doing a little shopping. But, really, I think the Tuesday evening market is another opportunity to socialize. The chatting, the banter, the laughter--it is all irresistible. Even those of us who don’t speak much French are drawn in and I can’t help but think that these markets provide as much nourishment for the spirit as they do food for the body.

I love the markets of Provence. They are transformative. When the trucks, vans, and wagons roll into the villages on market day and the vendors arrange their brilliant red tomatoes in precise rows, stack their jars of fragrant honey into flawless pyramids, and cook their paella to perfection, even the sleepiest village comes alive. For centuries, on a certain day (or days) every week, we can count on the market coming to town and we will go and buy our food and wares, catch up with friends and neighbors, and revel in the glory of tradition.

On Tuesday, I will probably go to Cucuron—and be very content—but I do wish there were more Tuesdays in the month.

Photos.com/Jupiterimages

Le Quartorze Juillet, also known as La Fête Nationale or, especially in English-speaking countries, simply Bastille Day, is next Sunday.  July 14th is a French national holiday that marks the anniversary of the storming of the Bastille (prison) in 1789 and the symbolic birth of modern France. To learn more about the history of this fête nationale, please see an earlier TMT post.

If you are lucky enough to be in France as you read this post, it will not be difficult to find a place to celebrate Bastille Day. Depending on where you are, there may be long parades, fireworks, airplanes decorating the sky with tri-color contrails, music, dancing, and communal dinners; but, no matter where you find yourself, there will be people making merriment. This is a holiday the French take very seriously…and celebrate passionately!

French Revolutionary Emblem, 1789, from Life Magazine archives

In Paris, where, in 1974, I first celebrated Bastille Day, I will never forget the huge numbers of manifestly proud French people—of all ages—that lined the Avenue des Champs-Elysées, waiting for the parade of tanks, military troops, and bands that would eventually roll down the famous avenue. From the Place de La Concorde to the Arc de Triomphe de l’Étoile, hundreds of French flags were flying. Later, planes thrilled the crowds with red, white, and blue designs in the sky, and much later, fireworks lit up the Tour Eiffel. For my 20-something eyes, this was “pomp and circumstance” like I had never before witnessed and, for many years, would define that phrase for me.

According to Virginie Julien of the Office de Tourisme in our favorite Provençal village Lourmarin, there will be a dance with a DJ on the place Henri Barthelemy on the evening of July13th. In nearby Cadenet, there will be fireworks on the night of 14th and in La Tour d’Aigues, there will be a dance and fireworks on the evening of the 14th.   We always have fun at  celebrations organized by the small villages.  In Lourmarin, for example, expect to see all ages dancing the night away, with the village's Mayor Blaise Diagne taking a central role. 

If you are in France now and would like to learn more about Bastille Day festivities near you, click here for more information. Make sure to confirm the date as many of the small villages, such as Lourmarin, celebrate on the 13th.

If you are in the States, three large Bastille Day celebrations I am familiar with are in Boston, New York, and Portland, Oregon.

Red, White, and Blue Verrines of Berries with Mascarpone Cream

We will be celebrating at our house, too. Regular readers will guess (correctly) that we will be opening some rosé and, in case you would like to know what we will be serving for dessert, I have included our recipe for Red, White, and Blue verrines. This dessert is festive, easy, really good, and thematic (that is, red, white, and blue!).

Wherever you are, take a moment to toast to France, a country that, over two hundred years ago, helped our own country, Americans, establish its independence.


Tchin-tchin ! À votre santé, nos amis en France!!

Red, White, and Blue Verrines* of Berries with Mascarpone Cream  

1 cup (8 oz.) mascarpone cheese
1/3 cup well-chilled heavy cream
¼ cup sugar
1 pint small strawberries, quartered
1/2 pint raspberries
1 pint blueberries
4 tbs orange marmalade
4 tbs Cassis (or other dark berry liqueur)

Place raspberries and quartered strawberries in one bowl and blueberries in another bowl.

In a small sauce pan, mix together marmalade and liqueur, simmer, and stir until reduced by almost half. Pour about half of the liquid over each of the bowls of berries and carefully stir to coat the berries.

In an electric mixer (with a whisk attachment) beat mascarpone, cream, and sugar until stiff peaks may be formed.

Layer each verrine with strawberries/raspberries, then mascarpone, and, finally, blueberries. Take care to create layers that are straight (so that they resemble the tri-color French flag). Chill until ready to serve. Allow verrines to set out briefly before serving. Top with a dollop of mascarpone or whipped cream.

Makes 6 servings, depending on the size of your verrines.

This recipe was adapted from a Gourmet (July 1998) recipe for "Berry Tart with Mascarpone Cream."

*Verrine is a relatively new word, not even found in my online Larousse dictionary. It is pronounced like “vair EEN.” Undoubtedly derived from verre, the French word for glass, verrine is probably the result of a union between verre and another French word, terrine, which refers to a mixture of meat, fish or vegetables, usually prepared in layers in a loaf shape. As used in contemporary culinary circles, verrine refers to layered dishes—sweet or savory—served in small clear glasses of any shape. A verrine can be any part of the meal—an amuse-bouche, an appetizer, a salad, a vegetable, a main course (or more likely the main course may comprise a selection of verrines), a dessert (the course in which a verrine has its longest history)—or the whole meal may be served as verrines.

We have a few boxes of the verrines pictured in this post left for purchase.  Please contact us if you are interested.

Other related TMT posts you might be interested in reading:

‘TIS THE SEASON FOR VERRINES DE NOËL!

ROSÉ, WHITE, AND BLUE ON BASTILLE DAY

14th OF JULY -- LE QUARTORZE JUILLET -- LET'S CELEBRATE WITH A BASTILLE DAY DINNER PARTY

I had a village house in Lourmarin, at the foot of the Luberon Mountains.

Okay, I took some liberties with Karen Blixen’s opening sentence of her famous book, “Out of Africa.” My apologies, but like the young Ms. Blixen who moved from Denmark to Kenya, I, a beagle just barely past my first birthday, made a major move from the United States to France. Like Ms. Blixen, I left a piece of my heart in another country and, like Ms. Blixen, my view of life was forever altered. For different reasons, of course.

On the trail of a scent (in Lourmarin)

Shackled by collars and tags

Waiting for the Master

A man walking his dog in Bonnieux

Pal touring medieval Les Baux

Pal visits Colmar

After the mushroom hunt:  "Why are they drinking Pastis before noon?"

Frolicking with mon petit ami

Two proud dog owners: Jacqueline Bricard in Lourmarin and a girl in Uzes

The waiter prepares me for my meal at Chez Gilbert in Cassis

A pampered pooch visits the Cucuron market

Waiting for the next adventure

Nice was where we first touched down in the South of France. We were on our way to Aix-en-Provence and then, to our final destination, Lourmarin. We had a direct flight from Boston to this city, known as the capital of the French Riviera—so the itinerary was practical—but, really, who doesn’t want to delight in the beauty of the Cours Saleva Flower Market; walk along the famous Promenade des Anglais; and visit the iconic Negresco Hotel whose guest list has included such luminaries as Pablo Picasso, Marc Chagall, Henri Matisse, Edith Piaf, Frank Sinatra, Luciano Pavarotti, Ernest Hemingway, Lauren Bacall, Marlon Brando, Richard Burton, Elizabeth Taylor, James Dean, The Beatles, the Rolling Stones, and the world’s most famous dignitaries? Well, not me.

Lisa visits The Negresco Hotel with the Modern Trobadors

Since that time 15 years ago, we have been to Nice quite a few times, but typically our visits have been prompted by guests who want to visit Nice or as a welcome stop when we are on our way to or from Italy. This apparent slight has nothing to do with the lovely seaside city itself but, rather, its distance—130 miles or about two and a half hours—from our stomping grounds in Lourmarin.

Right now, however, there is a compelling reason to get yourself over to this vibrant city: “Un été pour Matisse” or, in English, “A Summer for Matisse.” Nice is the home of Musée Matisse, one of our favorite museums in Provence, and they are celebrating their 50th anniversary. I was thrilled when I read about this event in one of my favorite blogs about Provence, The Provence Post, published by Julie Mautner.

This Matisse print has hung on many walls since college: Still Life with a Sleeping Woman (1939-1940)

I love Matisse as evidenced by all the Matisse prints that have graced the walls of the myriad apartments I have lived in since college. In graduate school, in the wee hours of the morning when I was weary and dispirited and couldn’t fathom the idea of squeezing another thought in to my head, I took solace in “Still Life with a Sleeping Woman” (1939-1940). Now faded, it was bright and cheery back then and made me feel happy. Guests of La Bonbonnière and L’Oustaloun may remember that prints of Matisse’s work hung on the walls of those village houses we once owned (and rented).

Matisse's The Egyptian Curtain (1948) as seen in La Bonbonnière (on the left)

The seemingly simple paintings of this master painter are actually elaborate compositions of distinct patterns of lines and other geometric designs reflecting his early study of Cubism, his lifelong passion for textiles, and his enduring study of the Old Masters and the classical tradition. His use of color, with roots in his early days as the leader of Les Fauves, is particularly appealing to me. Matisse worked in several media—including painting, drawing, paper cut-outs, printmaking, and sculpture—most of which, to me, emanated “harmony.”

Matisse's Young Woman Reading (1921) as seen in La Bonbonnière

Born in the north part of France, in Cateau-Cambrésis in 1869, Matisse, under pressure from his father, initially (1887) pursued a degree in law (in Paris). While recovering from appendicitis in 1891, he decided that he would not return but, instead, would follow a course more closely aligned with his heart: art. By 1892, he was studying the Old Masters with Gustave Moreau.

Matisse’s work did not have wide appeal initially. Many people laughed at his “Femme au chapeau” (Woman with a Hat). But two American families—the Stein siblings and the Cone sisters—were early patrons and introduced him to other collectors. At the Stein’s Saturday evening Salons, Matisse was very well received and met many other artists—notably Pablo Picasso—and other art enthusiasts, most notably Etta Cone and many Russian collectors.

In 1917, after a summer stint in Saint-Tropez (1905) and a visit to Morocco (1912), Matisse settled in Nice, where he would live for nearly 40 years, until he died in 1954. (The map below shows where he lived.) He is buried in Cimiez Cemetery, near the Musée Matisse.

During the nearly four decades of time that Matisse lived in this area, according to the press release for this event, “the artist honoured the Côte d’Azur with unwavering fidelity and passion.”

The Matisse Museum in the 17th Century Villa des Arenes in Nice

The museum, located in the 17th Century Villa des Arenes, was established in 1963 and boasts a collection of over 60 paintings, some drawings, etchings, and a collection of sculptures. It is said to be the world’s second largest collection of Matisse’s work. It is one of around ten museums in Nice, a city that, in 2012, attracted almost 700,000 visitors to its museums (second only to Paris).

For a former resident of such distinction—one who loved Nice as much as Matisse did—and because Nice is such a mecca for museum visitors, the City of Nice “wished to pay homage on a suitably grand scale to the character, the work and the legacy of this painter….”

There are eight simultaneous exhibitions throughout the City of Nice. (See list and map below.)  Each one promises to take visitors “on a unique journey” that together helps to tell the story of this artist and his work. There are more than 700 works on exhibit.

The show runs through September, 2013. For 10 euros, you can purchase a pass to visit all eight exhibitions for seven consecutive days. Passes are available for purchase at any of the participating museums.

As you might suspect, "A Summer for Matisse" has pushed a trip to Nice to the top of my list of things to do in the South of France.  And, as long as we are there, I can visit the flower market, walk along the promenade, poke around the shops in Vieux Nice, dip my toe in the Mediterranean, have a drink at the bar in the Negresco....so much to do.  It will definitely be nice to be in Nice.

List of Exhibitions

1 - Musée Matisse - “Matisse. The Music In The Work”

2 - Musée d’Archéologie - Cimiez Site - “On the Subject Of Swimming Pools”

3 - Théâtre de la Photographie et De l’Image (TPI) - "Women, Muses And Models (Encounters Between The Amedeo M. Turello Collection And The Work Of Matisse)”

4 - Musée d’Art Moderne et d’Art Contemporain (Mamac) - “Good Morning Monsieur Matisse!”

5 - Palais Lascaris - “Matisse. The Jazz Years”

6 - Galerie des Ponchettes - “Matisse On The Bill”

7 - Musée Masséna - “Palm Trees, Palm Leaves And Palmettes”

8 - Musée des Beaux-Arts - “Gustave Moreau, The Master Of Matisse”

The luscious fig—its sweet flesh accented by crunchy seeds and enveloped by a deep purple skin—will soon reach perfection in Provence, arousing passions that border on obsession in folks who live in this part of the world. A cause for sleuthing, celebration, and, in Solliès-Pont, a lingerie fashion show that’s part of a three-day festival devoted to a particular variety of fig.


I am a lover of figs—plain; wrapped in jambon de Parme; topped with chêvre or with Fourme d’Ambert cheese and a dollop of honey; arranged in tarts; transformed into jams and chutneys; or sautéed in butter and brown sugar and slathered atop vanilla ice cream—so I understand the excitement and even feel some pressure myself to eat them in their various delectable forms—morning, noon, and night—during the short season they are available.

Bruschetta of chêvre and figs topped with aged balsamic vinegar

Already this season, I’ve eaten lots of naked... figs, made two fig tarts, served lots of figgy hors d’oeuvres, and, over the weekend in Le Verdure in New York’s Eataly, enjoyed a bruschetta of chêvre and figs topped with aged balsamic vinegar. 

Figs for sale at the market in Cucuron

Figs are fragile and highly perishable, making them difficult to ship or even to stock in grocery stores. I often find myself scouring the markets in Provence and pleading with market vendors to set aside a dozen for me for the next week when their truck rolls into the village. Thus, it may not be hard to imagine my husband and me bumping along a narrow unpaved road, directions in hand, just outside the picturesque village of Lourmarin with the sole purpose of finding a tree said to be laden with ripe figs.

It all began one morning in early September when I was commiserating with a fellow fig lover over a bowl of figs, some of which had begun to weep and attract a small cloud of fruit flies.

Figs for sales at the Cucuron market

In France, the majority of the country’s figs are grown in Provence—as much as 75% are harvested in the department of the Var. In the neighboring Vaucluse department, where Lourmarin lies, there are not nearly as many fig trees.

“I know where there is a fig tree. It’s on public property, so any one can pick the figs but only a few people know about it,” my friend said. I had visions of a secret fig-lovers society.

“Shall I tell you where it is?”

Thoughts of an induction ceremony went through my mind as the words came out of my mouth: “Oui, bien sur!” “Yes, of course.” 

A few hours later—no induction was necessary to get the directions—our car was rattling and rolling in a cloud of dust on the last stretch of a long dirt road said to lead to the fig tree. (I remember thinking about whether our auto insurance covered off-the-road excursions.)

We spotted the lone tree, limbs weighted down by its many figs and, as we pulled up to the tree, we could see that the ground was covered with plump, juicy figs, too. No one had been picking figs from this tree in many days. A quick assessment revealed that fig picking was not for those wearing white linen and Tory Burch sandals, as I was, so my husband grabbed the basket and proceeded to fill it.

The large tree’s canopy of limbs spread wide and low, requiring my husband to pull apart the branches and duck as he went in toward the center to pick the most succulent fruits that this generous tree had to offer. Feeling just a little nervous that someone else might pull up and trying to be fair in taking only what we needed for a small fig tart, we weren’t there long. The sap of the tree was starting to stick to my husband’s hands and the bees were getting too close for comfort, too. We would be back we thought.

As we drove away, mission accomplished and anxiety turning to excitement about the dessert we would bake that evening, my husband starting squirming. In a matter of minutes, his arms were covered in bright pink patches of bumps that were unbearably itchy and incredibly painful. He was frantic, writhing in pain, saying his arms felt like they were on fire, a sensation that was rapidly spreading to his torso and legs. We were both scared and drove directly to our omniscient pharmacist in Lourmarin. (Regular TMT readers may recall an earlier post on the Pharmacie de Lourmarin.)

It turns out that fig trees (and even the fig itself) can cause allergic reactions in hypersensitive people. The leaves and the sap, especially, contain substances called psoralen and bergapten, which can cause “phototoxic dermatitis.” In sunny Provence, this reaction may be particularly likely!

Much to my husband’s chagrin, the pharmacist smiled as he told her what happened: she was familiar with fig allergies and recognized a certain irony in the situation. Fortunately, his rash was easily treated with a topical ointment called “Apaisyl” and we were on our way but not before the pharmacist implored us to tell her where the fig tree was. Ah, the things we’ll do for figs…

Black Mission and Calimyrna figs from California

If sleuthing for figs isn’t your cup of tea, I suggest you head over Solliès-Pont, in the Var, just 12 km (7.5 miles) northeast of Toulon, for the 17th Annual Fête de la Figue. This small city, called the capital of the Solliès fig, will be hopping from the evening of Friday, August 23rd through Sunday the 25th.

The celebration kicks off with a “grand repas et son ‘menu tout à la figue.’” The meal opens with a serving of pan-fried foie gras with figs, followed by a confit of beef and figs with polenta, and a cheese course of fresh chêvre with fig jam. The dessert, called “Invitation au Voyage,” suggests perhaps a medley of desserts—I don’t know but we can be certain that figs will dominate the preparation! Red and rosé wines from the Var’s Vignoble Kennel (AOC Côtes de Provence) will accompany the meal. There will be live music, too. At €31 per person, this is a bargain!


On Friday, we spoke with Phillipe Bellon, one of the organizers of the festival, who said that 900 tickets for the “grand repas” had already been sold, leaving just 100 tickets. They sold out last year and expect to do the same this year.

On Saturday, the festivities begin with a parade at 10:30 a.m. You can wander the streets where around 180 vendors will display their products; enjoy an aperitif at 12:30 in the village square; watch a boules competition; listen to music; or hike through the fig trees on the outskirts of the village. Dinner, “A Gypsy Fiesta” will be organized by the local Rotary Club at the Parc du Château (tickets are €35, with proceeds going to charity).

Two additional Saturday events that piqued my curiosity are a lingerie fashion show and an “Election de Bébé Figue 2013.” I couldn’t imagine what lingerie had to do with figs until I read that the show will feature “lingerie and other clothes the color of figs” which left me pondering what the criteria would be for the baby election!

On Sunday, the market continues as a backdrop to a 10K hike and the “messe et bénédiction de confréries,” during which, I think, the figs will be blessed by the Brotherhood of the Friends of the Figs of Solliès.

The Solliès fig, also known as the “Violette de Solliès,” is clearly revered by folks in this area. Indeed it is special: it is the only fig that has been awarded appellation d'origine contrôlée (AOC) status (in 2006), meaning that the French government guarantees the origin or “terroir” and quality of these particular figs.

The terroir is very important, Mr. Bellon explained. When he described what environment figs grow best in, he said, roughly translated, something like “figs want their head in the sun and feet in the water.” These conditions certainly prevail in this area of the Var.

Mr. Bellon also said that Solliès figs are unique in that their skin is tough enough to be readily shipped. In fact, they are often still referred to as the “Parisienne” because they were so frequently (and successfully) shipped to the nation’s capital.

Peak fig season in Provence, Mr. Bellon said, is running a little late this year. “It usually peaks in mid-August,” he said, “but this year, it is about fifteen days late.” The season typically wraps up in October. There’s still time to book a flight.

Fig-almond-honey tart ready to bake

For me, for now, I will have to be content with another fig tart made of, alas, Black Mission figs from California. I leave you with a link to the recipe for my favorite tart, from Patricia Well’s At Home In Provence, one I have made so many times that the pages have fallen from their binding. (The link here is from a New York Times article about another person obsessed with figs.) Enjoy.

The bounty of our fig picking adventure in Lourmarin

August in Provence. It is hot and crowded. The line of cars inching their way along, hoping to snatch an open parking spot for the most popular markets is foreboding and the sea of people that fills the streets of those otherwise picturesque villages steals any of your remaining enthusiasm for the outing.  Reservations for lunch or dinner are impossible, a disappointment mitigated only slightly by the knowledge that the wait staff would be too cranky to bear anyway. And the lines of buses parked outside the famous sites are enough to deter even the most tenacious tourist. The lavender fields are likely to be barren. Even the sunflowers are looking downward.

You might think that I am okay about postponing our usual August trip to Provence. Urgh! I am pining for a glass of rosé on one of Café Gaby’s tiny tables, sun pouring in, warming my back and my spirit. I don’t mind waiting in line, navigating through crowds, eating in, or dealing with cranky people. Sigh!

Portland Museum of Art in Portland, Maine

So when a dear friend (and TMT reader) called to tell me about an exhibition of mostly French turn-of-the-century artists at the Portland Museum of Art, I was psyched. Show me a little Cézanne, Matisse, and Bonnard. She also mentioned that she had had lunch at a terrific French bistro just a couple blocks away. An excursion that offered the perfect antidote to August sans Provence.

Petite Jacqueline is a truly authentic French Bistro—more Parisian than Provençal-- in the heart Maine’s largest city, near the Arts Center and not too far from the thriving port. The menu, with its “braised leeks with espellete vinaigrette,” “soupe a l’oignon,” “escargots,” “terrine de foie gras,” and “moules frites,” transported my husband and me straight to une bonne addresse dans le quartier...without the cranky waiters. The baguette—from Portland’s renowned Standard Baking Company—was as good as and even better than what you would find in France. A little rosé from Provence was all we needed to switch the scene to our favorite part of the South of France.





Petite Jacqueline is creation of Steve and Michelle Corry who, with Elizabeth Koenigsberg, also own Portland’s popular, award-winning, and more upscale Five Fifty-Five. Jacqueline is the Michelle’s grandmother and her husband’s French culinary mentor. Steve, as Executive Chef, dazzles his patrons with the meals he watched Jacqueline prepare and we, as patrons, enjoy them in an inviting atmosphere more casual but reminiscent of la belle epoch.




My husband had the Prix Fixe meal of a salad of “concombres” with buttermilk dressing and onion jam, perfectly cooked “steak frites,” and a sumptuous “pot de crème au chocolat.” I chose a delicious “tarte aux champignons,” a perfectly cooked “poisson meuniere” that was a grey sole seared with a lemon beurre blanc and topped with crispy capers (and served on top of haricots verts), and a divine crème brûlée. Ooh-la-la!

The reds and whites on the wine list include an impressive array of mostly French wines—including several our favorite Gigondas and Vacqueyras wines—that are very reasonably priced. The list of rosé wine was wanting: there were only two options. They were excellent representatives of two different types of rose, but with the whopping rise in popularity of rosé in the U.S., I encourage the owners to grow their list of rosés. Between the D’Aquéria from Tavel and the Commanderie de Peyrassol (2012) from Côtes de Provence, we opted for the latter and were very pleased. It is a quintessential rosé from Provence: pretty, pale pink color; aromatic nose; fresh and minerally taste; with a creamy mouth feel. The wine is made from Cinsault, Grenache, and Syrah grapes.  Eric Asimov wrote in a recent New York Times article about a tasting of French rosés that ranked this wine number one; he said, “Good wine ought to be transporting.” And that, this wine was.



The meal was excellent and the service (by our waitperson Michael) was top-notch. With double espressos under our belts, it was a great prelude to the exquisite exhibition, just two blocks away.



Paul Cézanne French, 1839 - 1906 L'Estaque, 1879-83 oil on canvas 31 1/2 x 39 inches © The Museum of Modern Art, New York. The William S. Paley Collection.

“The William S. Paley Collection: A Taste for Modernism” showcases 61 pieces—paintings, drawings, and sculptures—from the Paley Collection at The Museum of Modern Art in New York City. Mr. Paley was the President and Chairman of the Board at CBS and ran CBS from 1928 until shortly before his death in 1990. During most of that time, he was also collecting modern art, particularly European modernism with a clear fondness for French artists of that period. He left his collection to MoMA. This show features much of his collection; it began at the de Young Museum in San Francisco and will travel to the Musée National des Beaux-Arts in Quebec City (October 1, 2013 through January 5, 2014) and the Crystal Bridges Museum of American Art in Bentonville, Arkansas (February- April 2014) before returning to New York.

Henri Matisse French, 1869 - 1954 Odalisque with a Tambourine, Nice, place Charles-Félix, winter 1925-26 oil on canvas 29 1/4 x 21 7/8 © The Museum of Modern Art, New York. The William S. Paley Collection.

In addition to the artists already mentioned, this stellar collection includes work by Edgar Degas, Paul Gauguin, Pablo Picasso, Joan Miró, Alberto Giacometti, Pierre-Auguste Renoir, Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec, Edouard Vuillard and Francis Bacon. Among the 24 artists are just two Americans: Edward Hopper and John Kane.

Boy Leading a Horse (1905-06) by Picasso

The show stopper is undoubtedly Picasso’s “Boy Leading a Horse (1905-06), over seven feet by four feet in size and prominently placed, it is spectacular and demands your attention (which we willingly gave).

Paul Cézanne French, 1839 - 1906 Self-Portrait in a Straw Hat, 1875-76 oil on canvas 13 3/4 x 11 3/8 inches  © The Museum of Modern Art, New York. The William S. Paley Collection

The show begins with Cézanne’s “Self-Portrait in a Straw Hat” (1875-76), a relatively small piece (about 13 inches by 11 inches) but one with great presence and notable also because it was Paley’s first purchase, made sometime in the 1930s.

Woman with a Veil (1927) by Matisse

There are six Matisse paintings, all of which I found striking. I particularly liked “Woman with a Veil (1927), which I don’t recall seeing before this exhibition. If you are in Provence, don’t miss “Un été pour Matisse,” the celebration of the 50th anniversary of Nice’s Musée Matisse (covered in an earlier TMT post). 

The Rehearsal (1933) by Andre Derain and Mme Lili Grenier (1888) by Toulouse-Lautrec

Apparently, Mr. Paley personally selected all of the artwork in his collection. Upon discovering modern art, he is said to have endeavored to surround himself with such work. What a treat for all of us that he was so successful in this endeavor.

Study for Three Heads (1962) and Three Studies for the Portrait of Henrietta Moraes (1963) by Francis Bacon

Wherever you are, savor the last full month of summer. The Paley collection is an excellent place to while away a day (or a Friday evening). If you who are lucky enough to be in Provence, here are a few of my favorite art museums to visit:

Fondation Maeght in St-Paul-de-Vence
Musée des Beaux-Arts in Nice
Musée Granet in Aix-en-Provence
Musée Matisse in Nice
Musée National Marc Chagall in Nice
Musée Picasso in Antibes

The Paley show will be up until September 8th. The Portland Museum of Art is located at 7 Congress Street in Portland (207-775-6148, www.portlandmuseum.org).

Petite Jacqueline is located at 190 State Street in Portland (207-553-7044, www.bistropj.com).

"It's a big wine....it's a long story."

I bemoaned in my last post that I am not in Provence right now (as I often am this time of year). But, our recent tasting of four rosés from Provence, transported me to that part of the world —tout de suite and without so much as a click of my espadrilles. Ooh la la. That’s what good rosé can do.

I landed in the tiny village of La Motte-en-Provence, in the Var, at Château d’Esclans from whence the star of the tasting hails. We had, for the first time, a bottle of the much-ballyhooed prestige cuvée Garrus (2011) produced by Sacha Lichine, son of legendary Bordeaux producer and influential wine writer Alexis Lichine—but with a long and impressive wine pedigree in his own right--and winemaker Patrick Léon whose bonafides, most notably from Burgundy and Bordeaux, can be compared to just a small number of people in his craft.

As the alleged most expensive rosé in the world and with wine critics like James Suckling describing it as “…arguably the best rosé on earth…,” Garrus took center stage and, for me, it lived up to its billing.




Three strong supporting stars rounded out the tasting. We had a bottle of the immensely popular Whispering Angel (2012), the entry level rosé from the same château as Garrus. Dipping down to Bandol, we opened one of our favorite rosés from Château Pibarnon (2010) and traveling north to the Ventoux, we tried a bottle of Chêne Bleu (2012) for the first time.

I am still thinking about those wines. More on the specifics below, but, right now, I am remembering their very pale rose colors, their luscious noses, the way they felt in my mouth, their bone dry taste, their layered flavors, their long finishes, and their exceptionally refreshing natures. Only in Provence….although it hasn’t always been this way.

What’s the story behind this rapid growth of excellent, well-made rosés and how did this region, where inexpensive, (at-best) quaffable pink wines reigned over the land for so long, come to produce a bottle of rosé likened to Grand Cru White Burgundy and Dom Perignon Champagne… with a price tag to match?



And, by the way, what did two certified sommeliers, two wine shop owners, and three huge rosé fans—sans credentials—have to say about Garrus and the others? (Spoiler alert: really good things.)


THE PRELUDE TO PROVENCE’S GOOD ROSÉ
"But think of wine. It's red or white." Alan Jay Lerner (lyrics from 1958 musical film Gigi)

In the 1950s, Julian Street diplomatically summed up the state of rosé affairs at that time in his TableTopics: "He sniffed, tasted [the rosé], considered; then, with a slow nod of agreement, said: 'Nothing there—like kissing your aunt.'"

With Mateus and Lancers as the leading rosés at the time, one understands the author’s sentiments. In fact, his conclusion could have been worse! Provence was certainly producing rosé at that time but very little was fit to leave the region.

Had today’s Provence rosés been around back then, Street would assuredly have concluded something pretty special was there. And had Garrus, heralded as the champagne of rosés, been conceived at that time, Street, putting his socks back on, could not possibly have mistaken it for kissing his aunt.


Rosés have been around for some 2500 years in France, thanks to the Greeks who produced red wine so pale—the grape skin and juice were not together long enough to impart much color—that it probably really was rosé. According the U.S. Trade Office for the Wines of Provence, Provence is the birthplace of rosé (as well as all of French wine). But, good rosés did not emerge until very recently, a very long delivery but what an illustrious birth! 

“Until around ten years ago, with few exceptions like [the Domaines of] Tempiers and Ott, rosé-making was not very serious, “ explained Paul Chevalier, National Fine Wine Director of Shaw-Ross International Importers, and importer of Château d’Esclans rosé wines, including Garrus.

“Most rosés were a byproduct of red wine making,” said Chevalier whose impressive career has included winemaking and viticulture education at the University of Reims and the University of Bordeaux and professional experience at Château Margaux, Champagne Veuve Clicquot, and Cloudy Bay. “Producers thought ‘Let’s drain off a little juice and make some extra money over the summer’.”

It should be mentioned that not far away, in the Rhone Valley, just a smidgen past the line that divides Provence from the Languedoc-Roussillon region, folks in Tavel had been focused on rosés for centuries. Anything but a byproduct, they honed their rosé vinification as long ago as the early 13th century. At that time, it was the main wine in the cellar of the Papal Palace as well as the favorite wine of Kings Philippe le Bel (1268 – 1314) and Louis XIV (1638 -1715), earning it the title “Rosé of Kings.” It was the first rosé to receive Appellation d’Origine Contrôlée (AOC) status (in 1936) and Tavel still, by definition, only refers to rosé. Tavel rosé is quite dark and heavy and, if it were my only source for rosés, I would stick with red and white.

I am fortunate to have discovered Provence just as the rosé scene was starting to come into its own. Knowing I came of age in California during the wildly popular  wave of White Zinfandel and Blush wines, perhaps God showed mercy and spared me the experience of too many of the crudely-made, pungent-tasting, high-alcohol rosés that preceded today’s fine rosés. The earlier rosés may have tasted good when Provence and the Cotes du Azur were the backdrop but, lugging back home anything but a Tempiers or Ott was usually a disappointment, I am told.


THE REVOLUTION OF PROVENCE ROSÉS
 "France is the top rosé producer in the world and Provence makes 40% of all the French AOC rosés." U.S. Trade Office for the Wines of Provence

Today, few people would argue that the rosés of Provence set the world’s standard for the third color of wine. Very pale rosé color and oh so dry, chalky and minerally, a little fruity with matching acidity. Refreshing, thirst quenching, quaffable. One sip encourages more sips. 

“…and few wines are as transporting,” writes Eric Asimov in a 2010 New York Times piece about a rosé tasting. “You really don’t need to see the seaside shimmering in the heat to enjoy a bottle, or smell the lavender, garlic, anise and saffron. It’s all there in the glass, along with the blues, pinks, and yellows of a pastel sky, and the sounds of the motor scooters chugging over the cobblestones. Those are my images, at least. Good rosés call forth from each of us their own.”



In 2013, in another write-up of a rosé tasting (“dominated by Provençal rosés”), Asimov defends rosé from those who say drinking pink wine is “unthinking drinking.” He contends that he both thinks about rosé and is transported by rosé. He writes “A good rosé, at a lunch outdoors, preferably seaside or at least poolside, or even a terrace, at a sidewalk table or on a tar-paper roof, will transport me to Provence as quickly as you can say Brigitte Bardot.” And, then he goes on to present his thoughts on the rosés he tastes. Good rosé, such as that from Provence, is both.

“Think of Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers,” Win Rhoades says, as he describes what he thinks is a good rosé. “As you watch them dance across the stage, you don’t think about the individual steps, it just flows and you enjoy.” Rhoades, whose favorite rosés come from Provence, goes on to describe exactly what he thinks a good rosé is and isn’t—he is far from an “unthinking” drinker but, like Asimov, allows himself to be transported.

According to U.S. Trade Office for the Wines of Provence, France is the top rosé producer in the world and Provence makes 40% of all the French AOC rosés. The demand for Provence rosé in the U.S. continues to climb at astronomical rates—exports to the U.S. rosé 41% in 2012 from 2011, according to the same group who also reported that U.S. retail sales of “premium imported rosé wines – a category in which Provence is the recognized leader – [shows] increases of 23% on value and 28% on volume for the year 2012.” This, they report, is “double-digit growth” for “more than nine straight years.” The U.S. demand for Provence rosé is second only to France.

Who knows what propelled the changes in the making of rosés in Provence by the end of the 20th century. Undoubtedly there are many factors that merged to turn rosé winemaking into a serious endeavor.

In other parts of France, technological advances had already enabled more sophisticated wine-making processes that, in turn, led to more consistent (high) quality reds and whites from vintage to vintage.

“Champagne [reaped such benefits] in the 1970s and 1980s; Bordeaux in the 1980s; and Burgundy in the late 1990s,” according to Chevalier. Perhaps it was to be expected that Provence would follow.

About the same time, international tourism in Provence exploded. Long a destination for the French and other Europeans, less expensive air travel, probably coupled with Peter Mayle’s popular book AYear In Provence (1989), put la belle Provence at the top of tourists’ lists of must-visit places. (France remains the most popular country for international tourists, with Provence being the most popular region.)

Published in May 1999, this special edition magazine wrote that "serious winemakers are experimenting with dozens of varietals" and that "in general, wines from Provence are neither the subtlest nor the most elegant in the world."  Few rosé producers were mentioned.

Tourists undoubtedly associated rosé with all things Provence—its relaxed life style, its famous lighting, its markets, its enchanting villages, its wafting aromas of lavender and rosemary, and its renowned gastronomy—and wanted to relive la vie Provence when they returned home. Between a jar of honey and a bottle of rosé, most wanted the latter and they didn’t want to be disappointed. I suspect that wine producers began to feel some pressure to produce more serious wines in the last couple decades because not only were travel writers singing the praises of Provence but so were food-and-wine writers and even lowly tourists were making their opinions heard on the internet.

Another factor that has surely elevated the quality of rosé production is relocation of winemaking experts from other areas of France to Provence (including those hired by celebrities who have purchased châteaux in Provence—most recently Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie). At the top of that list would have to be Sacha Lichine and his team, led by Patrick Léon, at Château d’Esclans.


CHÂTEAU D’ESCLANS
Rosé is probably, wine wise, the most difficult wine that I’ve ever had to make, technically. Sacha Lichine

Château d’Esclans lies in the center of the Department of the Var, where the majority of Provence AOC rosé is produced. It is just 25 kilometers from the Mediterranean Sea. The ancient Roman city of Frejus is about that distance away although the château's wine, especially the Garrus, is more closely aligned with St. Tropez, 42 kilometers due south, where the glamor of Nikki Beach and the glitter of the sumptuous yacht scene provide a perfect market.


The site of the château is said to be exceptionally beautiful. (I have not been there…but hope to visit sometime soon.) Evidence suggests the land was occupied as long as 2500 years ago when it was probably used as a lookout point for intruders sailing into the Gulf of Frejus. The original château—of which now only the cellar remains—dates back to before the 12th century. Today’s château was built in the 19th century (and includes the 12th century cellar, said to be the oldest in the area).

Photo courtesy of Château d'Esclans

The history (like that of my own house which only dates back to the early 18th century) has some gaps, but it appears that, in 1201, Gérard De Villeneuve, part of a wealthy family from Marseille, took ownership of the château (and a whole lot of land that would eventually be sold off in lots) from Comte de Provence. Apparently two brothers, Sauver Louis Ranque and Francois Alexandre Ranque, were the next to own the château, known then as Terre d’Esclans. In 1875, they sold the property to Joseph Toussaint Caussemille, who manufactured wooden matches near Marseilles. In 1955, the Perraud family owned the property until 1994. At that time, it was purchased by a Swedish pension fund that produced just small amount of wine and sold the remaining grapes to neighboring winemakers. They would hold on to the property until Lichine returned in 2006.

Photo courtesy of Château d'Esclans

Today there are 156 acres (65 ha) of vineyards in production (of a total of around 660 acres or 270 ha). The primary grape grown on the property is Grenache followed by Rolle but the other usual grapes are there, too: Cinsault, Merlot, Mouvèrdre, Syrah, and Tibouren. The château is known for its old Grenache vines, producing grapes that have a much greater concentration of flavor than younger vines. As elevation increases, the age of the vines increases. At the top are vines as old as 80 years.

Photo courtesy of Château d'Esclans

I suspect those 80 year-old vines are a large part of what attracted Sasha Lichine to this property. He knew their potential. Old vines, such as these, yield much more concentrated flavor. Lichine explained in a recent video-taped interview with James Suckling that the roots run deeper into the soil and through layers of soil, searching for water and food. So, he went on to say, the upshot is more minerality, flavors, tastes, and general complexities in the grapes.

Lichine first saw the estate when it was for sale in 1994 but would not choose to buy it until 2006. Since purchasing the château, those 80 year-old vines have been the centerpiece of his latest and perhaps greatest passion in winemaking, the Garrus rosé.




Sacha Lichine.  Photo courtesy of Château d'Esclans

Born in Bordeaux, raised in New York City, and schooled in New England, Lichine had, as they say, wine coursing through his veins. But, it was red wine. His father was legendary in the world of wine; among his many accomplishments, he purchased a classified Bordeaux château (which he had the audacity to rename to include his own name, Château Prieuré-Lichine) and he wrote what was for a long time the definitive book of French wine, The Wines of France, both of which happened in 1951 (before Sacha was born).

Lichine was, before purchasing his château in Provence, no lightweight in the wine world. Although often described as living in the shadow of this famous father, the younger Lichine worked as a sommelier in (the once illustrious—said to have had the second-largest wine account in the U.S.—but just recently closed) Anthony’s Pier 4 in Boston, oversaw operations at Château Prieuré-Lichine, and ran his négociant business, to mention just a few things. But, buying Château d’Esclans with the goal of producing the best rosé in the world—and, arguably, succeeding—has unmistakably thrust him out of any shadows and into the limelight.

Photo courtesy of Château d'Esclans

From Bordeaux to Provence….some folks in the wine world scratched their heads when he sold Château Prieuré-Lichine and bought a château in Provence. Was this a rebellion against his father, described by Sacha himself, to have been a “terrible” father? Was the Provence lifestyle more appealing? Or was it an opportunity to forge a new frontier, to stretch the limits of the world’s oldest known wine? 

According to Chevalier who has known Lichine for many years, his friend’s thinking went something like this: “’The quality of red and white whites has been improved with technology and innovation, why can’t we improve the quality of rosé? Why not make a serious rosé?’” (But, I'm sure all that Provençal sunshine looked pretty inviting from cloudy Bordeaux!)

Lichine invited Patrick Léon, world-renowned wine maker in both Burgundy and Bordeaux, to work with him on this venture. Léon’s resume, impossible to summarize so please click on the link, reveals, to mention just two points, that he has worked with Baron Phillipe de Rothschild and Sacha Lichine’s father. I read that Sacha told Léon that, at Château d’Esclans, they would make wine they would want to drink so that if they didn’t sell it, they would like drink it!



Patrick Léon and Sacha Lichine.  Photo courtesy of Château d'Esclans

Lichine and Léon painstakingly restored the château, dumping the antiquated winemaking equipment, installing the latest generation equipment, and introducing state-of-the-art procedures so that everything from picking the grapes to bottling the wine would lead to the best rosé in Provence.

Photo courtesy of Château d'Esclans

Temperature, according to Lichine and reinforced by Chevalier in his conversation with me, is the most important factor “throughout the entire process” of rosé winemaking.

To that end, special (small) 10-kilo bins with dry ice “pellets” are used to hold the (ripe) grapes that are carefully selected and picked at dawn so that a cool temperature is maintained. Oak barrels, made by the top traditional coopers, were fitted with a cooling system that enables the temperature control of individual barrels in the cellar, something “quite rare,” said Lichine in a video-recorded interview with James Sucking. The cooling system alone required an investment of over a million euros, he said in the same interview with Suckling, but allows “lots of experimentation with aromas, flavors, and taste.”

Lichine, in the aforementioned interview, said that cold temperatures slow everything down and keep the wine fresh. I was fascinated to hear him say that “rosé is probably, wine wise, the most difficult wine that I’ve ever had to make, technically.” He elaborated that the key is to get “balance between fruit and acidity and to keep the freshness [in] and keep the color out.”  Temperature control is indeed essential to this process.

Photo courtesy of Château d'Esclans

Another investment that sets Château d’Esclans apart from most other rosé producers is the equipment used for sorting of their grapes. According to Chevalier, they use a “high tech Bordeaux Grand Cru technique” that, after de-stemming, allows“hand sorting with double sorting of [grapes] on a vibrating table with an ‘electronic eye’.”

The maceration period, in which the grapes are slightly crushed to just break the skins of the grapes, is quite short, 5-6 hours. According to Chevalier, “Skin contact occurs with zero oxygen contact under nitrogen gas inside the press in very cool conditions.” This technique, “much cleaner than the old fashioned saignée techniques create wines that “have extremely pure, intense, and vibrant fruit characteristics ([with] very little oxidation).”

A “free-run” juice technique is used to maximize concentration. The reserve rosés are not subjected to pressings.

Vinification in oak barrels is very unusual in rosé winemaking, too. The barrels used at Château d’Esclans, as I wrote above, are made by the best traditional coopers. They are also “lightly toasted” and relatively small (600 liter) barrels so that the wood does not "overly mark the wine". (Note that not all four styles of rosé are vinified in these barrels or in the same manner with these barrels.)




I have to mention that all of the Château d’Esclan bottles are elegant in design and embossed with the family crest from the château. Look for the “Chevalier” (knight’s) hat for a previous owner who was then the lord of the Esclans valley and note the three wild boars (that represent the many that still run wild in the vineyards at night!)


The result of this tremendous effort is four tiers of outstanding rosé in ascending order: Whispering Angel, Château d’Esclans, Les Clans, and Garrus.

In sum, with the technology harnessed by Lichine and his team, the passion unleashed, and the resultant wines, Château d’Esclans has surely influenced winemaking in Provence by invigorating old-world winemakers and raising the bar in the quality. Gone are the days when making rosé as a byproduct of red wine will suffice.

The U.S. Trade Office for the Wines of Provence said, “It’s exciting for the [Provence rosé] category to see this kind of innovation and leadership. Traditionally the winemakers in Provence - the oldest winemaking region in France -- do not use oak in their winemaking. Sasha Lichine and his team are creating innovative styles from Provence while staying true to the region’s roots. Their success is one reflection of the enormous rise in popularity among wine drinkers that is being driven by this region and these producers.”

Tasting Rosés from Chateau d'Esclans "Provence in the City 2013" - New York City

GARRUS, THE ESTATE’S PREEMINENT ROSÉ
"If rosé and white burgundy had a love child, it would be Garrus." Jessica Sutton, Certified Sommelier

“Garrus” stems from the Latin word for “bear” and refers to what the Romans called the hill top where the single vineyard of 80 year-old vines currently grows. Apparently, there were once woods up there with lots of wild bears. (And, for a moment, I thought the bear had something to do with Lichine’s Russian heritage!)

Photo courtesy of Château d'Esclans

Those 80-plus year-old vines, the foundation of the rosé called Garrus, are indeed located at the highest elevation of the property in very rocky and limestone soils and are reserved solely for the purpose making Château d’Esclans’ top tier rosé. It is highly unusual to use such old vines for rosé—although older vines are used to produce rosé champagne,  this practice is unique in Provence. It is, in my mind, the first factor that sets Garrus apart from other rosés

These older vines, producing just 8 to 10 bunches per vine (compared to 20 to 22 bunches per vine for those used for Whispering Angel), make a much richer, opulent rosé, according to Chevalier. He added, before I tasted this rosé, “It is not the usual stuff you find around the pool; it is not the light, cheery, and chipper rosé but rather one that is much bigger.”

Because older vines produce fewer grapes, there are fewer barrels and fewer bottles. In 2011, production was limited to ten barrels (which is approximately 1000 cases, half of which would come to the U.S.).

Photo courtesy of Château d'Esclans

The second factor, a “classic White Burgundy Grand Cru” technique introduced by Patrick Léon, clearly separates Garrus from other rosés: aging in 600-liter French oak barrels that are 100% new and lightly toasted. Both Garrus and the second-tier Les Clans benefit from regular bâtonnages of the yeast lees. Both rosés age for 11 to 12 months in barrel (although Les Clans ages in 50% new oak and 50% year one barrels).

A third factor that puts Garrus in a different category, occupied by very few other rosés, is that it is a collector’s rosé. “You want to set it down for two to three years...and longer,” Chevalier told me.

Vertical tastings from the 2006 vintage reveal that this rosé really does improve with age. “It is smoother and has increased complexity and different flavor,” said Chevalier and added that it is like vintage champagne without the bubbles.

A fourth factor that distinguishes Garrus (and Les Clans) from most other rosés is that it comprises 20% Rolle (the French name for Italian white grape, Vermentino). While Chevalier was reluctant to agree that such a (comparatively high) percentage of Rolle really sets Garrus apart, he did say that Rolle is a “signature stamp of Château d’Esclans.”

The color is very pale with slight shades of yellow (from the oak).  The skin contact is just four to five hours.  A very challenging process, Chevalier explained, "[because] too little time and there is not as much flavor [but] too much time and [the wine] is darker, heavier.



OUR TASTING
“…and few wines are as transporting,” Eric Asimov, New York Times wine writer


Garrus (2011) $95
Château d’Esclans
AOC Côtes de Provence
80% Grenache, 20% Rolle

The Garrus rosé (2011) certainly inspired the most conversation of all the wines during the tasting and for days afterwards. Our tasters were intrigued if not fascinated by how this wine stretched the definition of rosé. 

One of the first comments during the tasting was from Jessica Sutton, Certified Sommelier and General Manager of Vinilandia NH Wine Distributors. Sutton, who did not have the benefit of having read the literature said, “If I didn’t know better, I would say that this smells like an awesome Burgundy” and later went on to say that “If rosé and white burgundy had a love child, it would be Garrus.”

But did Sutton like it? A resounding yes. She was immediately struck by the good acidity. “Right on the mark,” she said. “The fruit is perfectly balanced with the acidity, making the wine pair well with food.”

However, like others in the group, she struggled with how to see it as a rosé. “We are taught that rosé is one thing and [Lichine and Léon] are trying to stretch the limits of what everybody thinks rosé is.” I don’t think this issue was a barrier to the pleasure Sutton felt from drinking the wine, but she thought it would make it challenging to sell the wine to someone else.

David Campbell, proprietor of Ceres Street Wine Merchants in Portsmouth, New Hampshire, agreed with Sutton’s sentiments about putting it in the rosé category.   “Well done, well thought out, damn good, and unique" and added, "an interesting anomaly.”

“Interesting and innovative,” Sutton added. “There are plenty of people producing the wine next door.”

Sarah MacKinley, Certified Sommelier and Wine Sales Representative for Perfecta Wine Company, focused on the mouthfeel. “[It] is really interesting, very silky and creamy,” sentiments echoed by everyone in the group.

“The creaminess is reminiscent of a Premier Cru Meursault,” said Towny Manfull.




Campbell concurred that the creaminess was very agreeable and wondered where it came from. “My guess is that it is from the oak, a softness and roundness.”

Campbell also “loved the color,” as did everyone in the group.

Win Rhoades, proprietor of South Street & Vine in Portsmouth, New Hampshire, really liked the Garrus. “Extremely interesting,” he said when he first tasted it, “but odd.” He was fascinated by the “fairly pronounced tannins for a rosé” and later said he was “amazed” by the tannins and, still later, noted that the tannins changed. It’s like a “rosé masking as a red wine.”

“It screams of Grenache, really old vines, very flavorful,” Rhoades said, “and also reported very pleasant anise and strawberry on the finish.”

“There’s a lot going on,” MacKinley said about the taste. “Fruit, floral, garigue.”


Campbell commented that the Garrus seemed “hot,” an observation shared by others. Rhoades initially thought he might see this as a flaw but then felt that, as time passed, the wine “corrected itself.” The alcohol content is 14%.

We all thought that the Garrus would be even more enjoyable if we had waited a couple of years (or even longer). We had decanted the wine before serving it, as suggested by a very helpful wine merchant, Pierre-Olivier, at Sherry-Lehmann in New York which, I think, opened it up for us.

My palate focused on the richness, smoothness, and elegance of this wine. I loved the way it felt. In my mind’s eye, I saw it as a buttery white wine and was hard pressed to describe what I actually tasted (except I knew that I really liked it and I didn't want to engage the cerebral cortex to figure it out!)  The finish, as someone suggested, seemed pleasantly spicy (from the Rolle grape, I am told). I really liked it.


Whispering Angel (2012) $20
Château d’Esclans
AOC Côtes de Provence
72% Grenache, 13.1% Rolle, 4.3% Cinsault, 7.1% Syrah, 3.5% Tibouren

This rosé, a quintessential Provence rosé, is the embodiment of the ideal rosé for most people. It is always a crowd pleaser.

Rhoades said that this was his favorite of the tasting. He elaborated, “It was totally ready to drink, there was nice complexity, really definable bouquet elements of strawberry and peach, lightly fleshy mouth feels, texture on the tongue, nicely balanced,” He added “I would pay $20 in a heartbeat.”

This rosé had a real "punch" to it.  This was actually our fourth wine and, of the four, brought smiles to our faces faster than any of the others.  In contrast, the smiles  brought forth by the other wines, for me at least, were deeper and lasted longer.

Claire Fleming, co-proprietor of South Street and Vine, also thoroughly loved this rosé and described it as what most people think of as the perfect rosé.  She would really like to see it in her store.

Whispering Angel was in short supply by Labor Day in the Hamptons.  This lucky couple found a bottle...and loved it!

Château de Pibarnon (2010) $42
AOC Bandol
Mourvèdre, Cinsault

Château de Pibarnon has long been one of my favorite rosés and, like many bottles of rosé, evokes lots of memories of hot days and long lunches at the Côtes d’Azur. I love the minerality of this wine, the pleasant floral and herbal flavors, and its nice body.

MacKinley, who also liked this wine, tasted citrus, spice, orange peel, and clove.

Although everyone liked this rosé, it didn’t stand out from the others which, I think, was more a function of the tasting itself than the wine. (Maybe I was too busy enjoying it to take notes!)  My husband and I certainly remain faithful fans.








Chêne Bleu (2012) $32.95
Vin de Pays du Vaucluse
60% Grenache, 35% Syrah, 5% Cinsault

Chêne Bleu is an organic wine that is made with grapes from 40+ year-old Grenache vines and 25+ year-old Syrah vines in “small cuvees in the state-of-the-art gravity-fed winery.” The vineyard is described as being “idyllic high-altitude, geologically complex.”

Campbell felt that this was the most interesting wine of the tasting. “Very interesting mouth feel, ‘slickery’,” he said.

Both Mackinley and Sutton tasted pronounced fruits such as strawberry, watermelon, and red raspberry.

Towny thoroughly enjoyed this wine and intends to seek it out to taste again (which I hope he does and, at that time, we will provide more tasting notes). In the meantime, he noted a very creamy mouth feel from this wine, similar (but not as pronounced) as the Garrus. The Chêne Bleu is also aged in “the best French oak barrels.”





SUMMING UP
"Rosé season doesn't end on the day after Labor Day." Win Rhoades, wine shop owner

Rosé has come a long way since Julian Street likened its taste to kissing one’s aunt. Today, rosé is no longer considered a second class wine nor one limited to the summer months and informal lunches.  It is serious and, as Campbell said about Garrus, "damn good."

Our tasting--and this long post--was  prompted by a bottle of Garrus rosé. As I suggested above, it's a big wine and a long story.  The story of how Provence--the cradle of quaffable rosé--grew into a region of serious rosés and how it gave birth to this very unusual offspring is one that deserves more attention.  For me, the story set an intriguing stage for our tasting.

Here are some of the things we are still talking about:

Is Garrus really a rosé? Yes, of course.  But, Lichine has really stretched the limits of what we think rosé is.  One of the tasters said that she wanted to try it again, alone, outside in her garden to “really taste it” and I think I would be safe in adding, “to get to know it better.”

Chevalier was well prepared when I broached this subject--I suspect he's heard other people say that they just can't think of it as rosé--and he encouraged me to think of art at the turn of the last century. 

So, I thought of Pablo Picasso, known as "the crazy Spaniard," and Henri Matisse, whose “Woman with a Hat” evoked more laughter than "oohs and ahs"....except in the Paris apartments of Gertrude Stein and her siblings.  So unconventional were those "modern" artists compared to those of the realism tradition (like Gustave Courbet, Édouard Manet, and Winslow Homer) that people didn't know how to respond. That changed. Lichine's Garrus is not suffering from the pens of critics who, in the case of early modern art, disliked or didn't respect the art.  On the contrary, his rosé is racking up rave reviews:  93, 93, and 95 from the top wine critics, for example.  Unheard of for a still rosé. 

People like to put things in categories and many people (I don't know any!) are even reluctant to embrace rosé as a category. So, those who promote wine have some work to do.  "I am all about education," Chevalier told me.

The subject of price inevitably surfaced. Would you pay $95 for a bottle of rosé? None of us own yachts, the market that is often described as this wine’s target audience, so ponying up that much money is something we have to think about. MacKinley thought it would be a hard sell in New Hampshire but quickly added, “If they can get $95 for it,  that’s great!” Another person thought he would prefer a Grand Cru Burgundy. Two people wondered whether they would rather have five $20 bottles (perhaps five bottles of Whispering Angel), a sentiment I initially entertained.  However, I found that I couldn’t stop thinking of the Garrus. I love the Whispering Angel—as well as the Château Pibarnot and Chêne Bleu—but the Garrus bedazzled me. I guess I answered my own question when I bought a bottle of 2010 Garrus the next evening.

Does Château d'Esclans produce any red or white wine?  Yes, but none is imported.  Lichine also has another lower-end  line that produces all three colors.  It's called Sacha Lichine International/Vins Sans Frontiers.  We tried the rosé and found it decent but rough.  (More on this tasting in another post.)

Are wine folks still scratching their heads about Lichine's Provence venture?  It doesn't sound like it.




Time for lunch...and another rosé

Pont du Gard  Photo: David Scott Allen

Over the valley, from side to side, and ever so high in the air, stretch the three tiers of the tremendous bridge. They are unspeakably imposing, and nothing could well be more Roman. The hugeness, the solidity, the unexpectedness, the monumental rectitude of the whole thing leave you nothing to say at the time and make you stand gazing. You simply feel that it is noble and perfect, that it has the quality of greatness. From A Little Tour in France by Henry James (1884)

People often write and ask me questions about Provence. A common one is “which site should we definitely see in Provence?” It’s a question that inevitably causes me pause, if not great consternation, for there are so many inviting places in Provence. So many that even after all these years, we still have a long list of places we haven’t seen...that we want to see. Beyond this perfectly valid explanation for my reluctance to commit to one, I have come to realize that I am part of a peculiar group of travelers for whom the draw of their favorite destination has expressly little to do with any must-see sites.



The allure of Provence for me, instead, is much more intangible. It’s the sun, the lighting, the markets, the garrigue aromas of the Luberon, the slow-paced life style, the long lunches punctuated with sips of the region’s famous rosé, and our friends. So, it stretches my comfort zone to step into the shoes of a tourist who develops his or her itinerary around must-see sites. There’s nothing wrong with that approach; it is just not my approach, so when put on the spot, as I was in a conversation last month, I experience a modicum of anxiety. 

The moment I take the bait—as evidenced by the name of a site that I hear tumbling out of my mouth—another site pops into my head and I immediately retract the first one in favor of the second, a process that goes on until I appear so indecisive that the inquirer concludes he couldn’t possibly embrace any recommendation of mine anyway. 

Still, there are sites I wouldn’t want that traveler to miss and if really pushed for one must-see site to visit—or “one last hurrah” to quote the peripatetic traveler whose path recently crossed mine—the Pont du Gard could be at the top of my list.

This recommendation hails from a person who kept the Pont du Gard at the bottom of her list for many years. I am embarrassed by the ignorance I harbored all those years. My only explanation, admittedly inadequate, is that I had already seen many aqueducts in my travels and that what I had read in the tour books about Provence simply never elevated this particular aqueduct past all the other fabulous possibilities in Provence. Think of Les Baux-de-Provence, the Arènes in Arles, the Théâtre Antique in Orange, the Palais des Papes in Avignon, the Abbaye de Sénanque in lavender season, Les Calanques, and the Gorges du Verdon, to mention just a few of my favorite sites. Think of Lourmarin, Bonnieux, Saignon, Aix, Roussillon, St. Tropez, Vieux Nice, and Cassis at sunset, to consider just a fraction of my favorite villages and cities.



So what had I read in those tour books from our earliest trips to the region? I dug through a dusty box of old tour guides to see. The oldest of my remaining collection, a 1996 Knopf Guide entitled Provence and the Côtes d'Azur, devotes just one-inch by two-inches of print to the Pont du Gard: “On the way from Villeneuve-lès-Avignon to Nîmes, near Remoulins, do not miss this 2,000-year-old Roman bridge commissioned by Emperor Augustus’ son-in-law. Magnificently located, it stands 150 feet above the waters of the river Gard.” This description just didn’t reach out and grab me. Mais, mon dieu, was I wrong.

The Pont du Gard, I came to realize, is a masterpiece of Roman ingenuity and architecture, a testament to the Romans’ knowledge of sophisticated Roman technology (over 2000 years ago!) and to their remarkable appreciation of aesthetics (that transcends time). Not surprisingly, in 1985, the Pont du Gard was made a World Heritage Site by UNESCO (the United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization).



Pont du Gard (literally meaning “Bridge of [the] Gard”) is an exquisite aqueduct bridge that crosses the Gardon River, near Remoulins and not far from Uzès. (It lies just inside the Gard département of the Languedoc-Roussillon region of France and, thus, like Uzès and Nîmes, is not in Provence).

The Pont du Gard is part of the Nîmes aqueduct that carried water from a source near Uzès to Nîmes—a remarkable 50 kilometer-long (about 30 mile-long) journey! It is said to have taken 27 hours for the water to reach Nîmes!


Archeologists generally agree that the aqueduct was constructed during the first century, not later than 60 AD. It is estimated to have taken 15 years to complete the entire aqueduct. It is said to have carried nearly 8 million U.S gallons (30,000 m3) of water each day to Nîmes where it filled the castellum divisorum (an open basin where the water was collected) and eventually supplied water for the Roman colony’s baths and fountains and the homes of important families.

Gardon River  Photo: Mark Sammons

Most of the aqueduct was underground. Crossing the Gorge of the Gardon River was the most challenging part of the project, taking five years to complete.



Photo: David Scott Allen

The Pont du Gard, the highest of all aqueduct bridges, consists of three tiers of arches, rising 164 feet (50 meters) from the ground and it spans 1200 feet (360 meters) across the gorge. It is constructed of limestone blocks excavated from a nearby quarry. It is considered the best preserved of all the remaining Roman aqueducts. 



Water Conduit        Photo (right): Mark Sammons

The Nîmes aqueduct remained in service until the 4th century. After the fall of the Roman Empire, the aqueduct was no longer maintained. Limestone deposits built up in the water conduit—if those deposits are anything like the calcaire deposits in my tea kettle in Lourmarin, I know that fulltime maintenance is essential—and plants grew into waterway, eventually clogging the passage of water. Further damage occurred when neighboring landowners removed stones from the aqueduct. But because the Pont du Gard was used as a bridge (for which tolls were collected), it stood in place. (When we first visited, motor vehicles still traveled across the bridge; I think they were banned in 2000.)

We have visited this site many times now and each time, the Pont du Gard stops me in my tracks. It is definitely my pick for the summer’s last hurrah!

To find out more about this magnificent structure, I recommend a visit to the official website of the Pont du Gard http://www.pontdugard.fr/en/discover-pont-du-gard where you can learn more about its history and construction; find out about the (exceptionally interesting) museum as well as films and special exhibits; get directions and visiting hours; and take a virtual tour. There is a restaurant and snack bar (read on for my recommendations for lunch). Definitely take the tour through the water conduit (where you will be fascinated by the thick build-up of limestone). Wear good walking shoes so you can walk along the well-marked paths. Dip your toe in the Gardon River. Rent kayaks to paddle under the bridge.



Gardon River Photo: Mark Sammons

September is a perfect time for a visit to the Pont du Gard. The tour buses that dominated the parking lots during July and August are long gone, taking with them the crowds of tourists that clogged the water conduit and blocked views of the river and the museum exhibits. I checked out the ten-day forecast—looks like beautiful days with temperatures in the high 70s (26 degrees C).



Later you can settle into a leisurely lunch with your favorite rosé -- Pack a picnic lunch or plan to stop for lunch in Uzès, referred to as “The Hidden Gem of the South of France” in a recent New York Times article. Enjoy these last days of summer!




Photo: David Scott Allen

Throughout the concert, there were film clips of Piaf in concert, including on the Ed Sullivan Show

Édith Piaf was surely smiling when Thursday night’s vibrant tribute to her life and music opened with a animated duet of La Foule by French singers Nolwenn Leroy and Zaz. La Foule—“The Crowd”—is about the chance encounter of two people in the midst of a festive crowd who, as quickly as they connect, they are separated. So much of Piaf’s life seemed fated for disappointment, but this sold-out Francofolies de New York Festival was beautifully orchestrated to ensure a remarkable celebration of her life and music. There were no—well, very few—disappointments.

Waiting in line

Francofolies was founded in 1985 in La Rochelle, on France’s west coast, north of Bordeaux. It has grown to be one of Europe’s most popular music festivals and now hosts such festivals in Belgium and Quebec. This past Thursday, September 19, marked its debut in the United States, at the Beacon Theatre in New York’s Upper West Side.

The Francofolies de New York Festival was sold out at the Beacon Theatre

At 7:30, when the show was to start, the line to get in to the sold-out venue was several people thick and went up the block and wrapped around the corner. In spite of the wait and the news that Charles Aznavour, French music legend and close friend of Piaf, and British singer and songwriter Marianne Faithfull were not able to attend, the mood was positively giddy. Once inside the theater, there was an audible buzz of ...excitement. Fans of this world famous performer were anticipating a terrific show—La Foule was happy. We even had our own chance encounter with two lovely women in the seats adjacent to ours: they agreed to swap seats with my daughter and her boyfriend so that they could sit with my husband and me. (Okay, the two women got slightly better seats in exchange but they were nicely settled in their first seats and were very kind to dislodge themselves in order to accommodate us—merci encore!)

The concert was billed as “star-studded” and indeed it was. Harry Connick, Jr. was there to perform Piaf’s signature song, La Vie en Rose. Although his delivery could have been a little more inspired—perhaps he was concentrating on his French—I was thrilled to hear him sing in person. Madeleine Peyroux, one of my long-time favorite (American) jazz singers, delivered a heart-felt Padam Padam that really pleased the crowd.

Harry Connick, Jr. takes the stage

One of the goals of Francofolies New York was to introduce some of France’s rising stars. So, it should not have been surprising to see many young performers, at least five of which had been top competitors from France’s Star Academy and Nouvelle Star (French versions of American Idol). 



One of the stand-out performers for me was 33 year-old French pop singer Olivia Ruiz. Ruiz, from Star Academy, belted out a version of Milord that was so remarkably reminiscent of Piaf that we could swear “The Little Sparrow” had snuck on to the stage. Opening performer Nolwenn Leroy, also from Star Academy, sang a brilliant Je Ne Regrette Rien.

Christophe Willem, from Nouvelle Star, wowed the crowd with Mon Dieu. Also from Nouvelle Star, 21 year-old Camelia Jordana sang a very emotional L’Hymne à l’Amour.

Christophe Willem performs Mon Dieu

The only song performed in English was L’Hymne à l’Amour, sung by well-known British singer-songwriter known simply as “Duffy.”

The most moving part of the evening was French singer and composer Charles Dumont’s emotional performances of two songs he wrote for Piaf: Les Amants and Les Flonflons. Sitting at the piano, he crooned a wonderful Les Amants and then stood to sing to a recorded version of Piaf and him singing Les Flonflons. The audience was enraptured.



I also really enjoyed Jean Louis Aubert who did a spirited rock-and-roll version of Je T’ai dans la Peau and Patrick Fiori who did a lively L’Accordéoniste that really got the crowd swaying. And, while on the subject of that quintessentially Parisian instrument, the orchestra’s accordionist himself was extraordinary.

The strangest performance of the evening was that by French singer and songwriter Patricia Kaas. Arriving on stage in long black gown reminiscent of a boxing robe and boxing gloves (apparent reference to Piaf’s lover, French boxer Marcel Cerdan), with a backdrop of photographs of herself, she sang an over-the-top version of La Belle Histoire d’Amour. I know she has an international following and her concerts routinely sell out, even in such impressive venues as New York’s Carnegie Hall and London’s Royal Albert Hall, but we found her annoyingly more focused on herself than Piaf.


Angélique Kidjo, internationally acclaimed singer and songwriter from Benin, was the final performer. Having seen her at the 2011 Newport Jazz Festival where she put on a stellar show, we were looking forward to her arrival on stage. Kidjo did not disappoint—she put on a rousing vocal performance of Johnny Tu n’es pas un Ange and her guitarist introduced an African rhythm to the piece, all of which really pleased the crowd.

The finale was an uplifting reprise of La Vie en Rose. Notwithstanding the absence of Harry Connick Jr. and Alex Hepburn’s apparent unfamiliarity with the lyrics, it lifted the spirit of the audience and sent us bouncing home. I am sure we were not the only family who could hardly wait to get home and dig out our Édith Piaf recordings (which we did!).



TMT readers may remember that we had our own tribute to Édith Piaf last winter. Good friends, Ray Demarco, local jazz pianist, and Janine Kolb, local French teacher, put on quite a stirring performance that snowy afternoon. (Janine and Ray—we’d love to do that again!) Visit that TMT post to see a video of Ray and Janine (or you can often catch them on Tuesdays at The Press Room in Portsmouth, New Hampshire!).

And, finally, you definitely want to make a note that this Francofolies de New York Festival will be aired in October 2013 on TV5MONDE in the U.S.(I think it is October 12th) and public TV channel 2 in France (I think it is October 5th). I promise you won’t be disappointed…okay, alright, no one can roll their “r’s” like The Little Sparrow..



Photo: David Scott Allen

Vaugines is listed in only one of the many tour books I have on my shelves and there, in CadoganGuide to Provence, it merits one sentence at the end of a long section about “The Pays d’Aigues.” It reads, “The D56 leads on to Vaugines, a lovely little place (the setting for many scenes in Manon des Sources and Jean de Florette) and Lourmarin.”
It is a tiny village, with a population that, on a hot summer day after the Parisians have opened their second homes, might break 600. It’s no wonder that when news broke of the Mayles’ pending move, their new residence was routinely prefaced by adjectives like “sleepy,” “slumberous,” “quiet,” and “simple.” There are no trendy shops, galleries, or...
gastronomic restaurants and really only one “site” that might draw the average tourist, that being a beautiful circa 12th century Romanesque church where the most poignant scene of Manon des Sources—between Yves Montand and Yvonne Gamy—is filmed.
Although we didn’t know it at the time, we first became acquainted with Vaugines through these two movies. Jean de Florette and its sequel Manon des Sources (Manon of the Spring) are adapted from Marcel Pagnol’s two-part novel, L’Eau des Collines published in 1966. Filmed nearly thirty years ago in 1986, many people—my husband and me included—feel that these are two of the finest French movies ever made.


The movies were directed by Claude Berri and filmed together, over a thirty-week period, at a cost of $17 million, which was, at that time the most expensive movie production ever filmed in France. Each movie was nominated for numerous César awards in 1987 –Daniel Auteuil won “Best Actor” and Emmanuelle Béart won “Best Actress in a Supporting Role” for their roles in Manon des Sources. Other nominations and awards followed (e.g., BAFTA and Golden Globes).

Apparently, a chapel was built on the grounds in the 11th century. According to my English translation of the information from Les Amis de St Barthélémy, “The apse in the vault of the church, in a square massif and the southern apse” are all that is left of the chapel. By the 13th century, a church was built on the remains of the chapel, but would be abandoned from 1350 to 1450 during which time the whole area suffered the consequences of the plague, war, and famine. 

In 1470, the village came to life again and the church took the name of Saint Barthélémy. In 1556, reparations of the church grew more ambitious and in 1630, work continued for the next 100 years, culminating in the church one sees today.

In 2000, the church was classified as a historical monument and today efforts are underway by volunteer group “Friends of Saint Barthélémy Church” to restore the church.






 From the church, a meandering walk along tiny lanes lined with stone houses and pretty doorways to the center of the village, is easy and lovely. The Place de la Mairie is dominated by an attractive fountain (also in Manon des Sources) around which both cars and pedestrians make their way (since there are not many of either).

Saint-Tropez hosts "Les Voiles de Saint Tropez" and d'Angeau pops by see it.  Photo by Pamela J. O'Neill

I was settling into the chair at my desk earlier this week, fully prepared to wax enthusiastically in this post about the merits of visiting St-Tropez any time after August, when the telephone rang and changed the focus of my story.

I was all set to grumble about the inconceivable amount of traffic in July and, especially in August when everyone on the continent seems to have set their GPS devices set for the French Riviera. The notorious two-lane D98 becomes a virtual parking lot of vehicles—Maseratis, open-top Ferraris by the dozen, big Bentleys, tiny Fiat Pandas, and camping-cars alike—inching forward en masse toward the international playground of the rich and famous.

Saint Tropez  Photo by Photo Rolex/Carlo Borlenghi

This is no exaggeration, I assure you: We have been among those cars. What were we thinking that August when we surmised we could beat the... traffic, if we left Lourmarin very early in the morning? It takes just over two hours to get there in the other ten months of the year, but, on that day two hours stretched threefold. We were only a few kilometers outside St-Tropez when we found ourselves at a complete standstill on the main route—indeed the only route—into this seaside village.

Saint Tropez Harbor  Photo by W.T. Manfull

Photo by W.T. Manfull

Back in the spring, readers may recall all the hoopla over the release of Brad and Angelina’s first rosé from their newly acquired chateau in Provence. The Modern Trobadors hopped on the crowded band wagon with a post about the celebrity status of Château Miraval long before the glam couple took up residence and I included a synopsis of our tasting notes wherein we gave their rose, called simply “Miraval,” an enthusiastic thumbs-up.

Château Miraval before the Brad and Angelina acquisition. Photo by Pamela J. O'Neill

I reviewed the history of the château —where vineyards were first planted in the 15th century—and, fast-forward to 2008, how the famous couple, while hovering above the property in a helicopter, fell in love with it, leased it for three years, and bought it in 2011. I recounted how, for matters of wine, they turned to the well-known Perrin family from Châteauneuf-du-Pape. As the now oft-repeated story goes, mutual friends made the introduction and the threesome bonded over bottles of wine and a common interest in organic viticulture.

Photo by W.T. Manfull

Several weeks after writing that post, something about the Miraval wine story hit me. It was in the middle of another rosé tasting that included... Miraval alongside a bottle of  "Perle de Margüi," the wonderful rosé from Château Margüi, a winery that neighbors Château Miraval in the Var department of Provence. (More on this tasting in an upcoming post.)

Photo by W.T. Manfull

As I was admiring the lovely Château Margüi label, I noticed the two tiny green logos squeezed into the lower right-hand corner. The logos confirm that the grapes used to make the wine in said bottle are organic. The “AB” logo (meaning “Agriculture Biologique”) is the French certification that the product has at least 95% organic materials and that it was produced within the European Union. The other logo is the EU certification that at least 95% of the ingredients are organic. Lest one misses the stamps, the words “VIN BIO” were spelled out at the bottom of this label.


But wait, I thought to myself…. Château Miraval has long prided itself on being biologique. I had written in my post—and many articles in the main stream press had also written—that this rose was “organic.” Online wine stores continue to promote Miraval rosé as being “organic.”



But, curiously, nowhere on the Miraval bottle was there any indication that this rosé —first production under the team of Jolie, Pitt, and Perrin—had been made with organic grapes. No tiny green “stamps.” No “VIN BIO.”

Photo by W.T. Manfull

I checked the Château Miraval website which, one would think, would be the most authoritative source. And, while there is not much information on that website, it does clearly confirm that “The estate is cultivated 100% organically, without using herbicides, pesticides, or chemicals that can enter the vine and affect the evolution of the fruit.”

According to the website of the Provence Wine Council (in French, the Conseil Interprofessionnel des Vins de Provence, which is the organization of Provence wine producers and related trading companies), “Château Miraval is recognized as one of Provence's highest-quality organic wine producers” and “All production is from grapes grown organically in the Commune of Correns, the first organic village of France.” Correns has been "100% organic" since 1995.



The popular predecessor of Miraval rosé, called “Pink Floyd,” was produced from organically-grown grapes for years. Why would Jolie, Pitt, and Perrin break with tradition?

I thought back to all the articles I had read in preparation for writing the TMT post in May (2012) and I couldn’t recall seeing any reference to this much anticipated 2012 Miraval rosé being anything other than biologique. According to an article in Bloomberg by Elin McCoy (February 14, 2013), “Another bonding factor [between the two parties] was the fact that the estate is organic.” Marc Perrin, whose family is said to have “pioneered organic viticulture in 1950,” reportedly said to the Bloomberg writer, “For us, organic is the only way to grow grapes.” Indeed, the Famille Perrin website states that the Perrin family “is the leading organic wine grower of the Southern Rhône Valley….”

So, what’s going on? Is the Miraval rosé made from organically cultivated grapes…or not?

Grape Varieties (Clockwise from top left - Grenache, Syrah, Rolle, Cinsault) Photo: Francois Millo/CIVP

A little more sleuthing on the internet dug up just one article, in French, that shed some light on the bio status of the new rose. In an interview in August (2013) with Bernard Burstchy for Le Figaro Vin, Marc Perrin said that they use organic farming on all of their properties, but that nothing is indicated on the label (my translation). Hmmm…so why bother with those silly little logos that detract from a pretty label?

We would telephone Château Miraval and see if we could get to the bottom of this curious case.

“Pas de tout,” was what the woman who answered the telephone at Château Miraval said. In English, “Nothing at all,” she said, confirming that she could not provide any information. All inquiries of any sort, she said, were to be directed to Famille Perrin in the Vaucluse. We did manage to wrangle out of her a confirmation that the tasting room was no longer open (which, we learned later, had closed several years earlier).

The tasting room at Château Miraval in 2007, prior to the Brad and Angelina acquisition.  Photo by Pamela J. O'Neill

Following directions, we called Famille Perrin but were informed that we needed to pose all questions in writing. So, we composed an email and sent it to the email address provided by the officious French woman who answered the Famille Perrin telephone and, for good measure (or was it for kicks and giggles?), we sent one off to Marc Perrin. Guess what? Yep, no response.

Map of Provence Wine Region Used, with permission, from www.winesofprovenceUSA.com

Tant pis. In the meantime, friends who live in the Var, the department in which some of the best rosés in the world are produced, were able to talk with a knowledgeable source (who shall remain unnamed) who said that Miraval rosé was indeed not bio because some of the grapes—no one with whom we spoke with could say what percentage although apparently more than five percent—were not grown organically. Apparently, this source said, Jolie-Pitt & Perrin could not amass enough organically grown grapes to produce the quantity of wine they expected to sell.

Okay, ce n’est pas grave—sales of the first release of the famous couple’s rosé would surely soar….and they did, selling out very quickly—but why not be transparent about this issue? They would have sold out quickly anyway.

Now, curious minds are left to wonder where the grapes did come from, a question made more intriguing when we learned from the same Var source that none of the Miraval rosé was produced at the Château. A closer look at the Miraval bottle suggests, if not confirms, the area where the production took place, but only the most discerning label-reader would recognize this…and only one who knows the zip codes of Provence could fully decipher it.

Photo by W.T. Manfull

The third line on the back label reads “MIS EN BOUTEILLE PAR JOLIE-PITT & PERRIN,” which means “bottled by Jolie, Pitt and Perrin.” The fourth line reads “A F-84100,” which means the wine was bottled in the city of Orange, in the neighboring department of the Vaucluse, some 180 kilometers (112 miles) away from Château Miraval. Famille Perrin's main operation is located in Orange.

Wow. Although it was clear that Famille Perrin had been brought onto the team and would share profits 50-50, it was not clear that the rose would be made some place other than the chateau. The website states, “Since 2012, the owners of Château Miraval have partnered with Famille Perrin to help with the viticulture, winemaking and wine distribution.” It doesn’t say that the wine would be made off the premises.



The website goes on to say, “With investments in the latest winemaking technology and a passion for excellence at every stage of production, Château Miraval is dedicated to delivering top quality wines to international acclaim.” Were their investments in this technology for equipment in the Vaucluse operation?

Did any part of the vinification process take place at Château Miraval? How were the grapes—or juice—transported to the operation in the Vaucluse? And why?

Perhaps, as our unnamed source suggested, it may have been that the renovations in the cave were not completed in time to make the 2012 vintage at Château Miraval. If this is the case, we wonder if the 2013 vintage of Miraval rosé will be “mis en bouteille au chateau" when, surely the cave upgrade will have been finished. Our source didn’t know (and, of course, those that do know weren’t answering the telephone or responding to emails).

Perhaps the imminent release of the Château white wines will cast some light on the future production of rosé. According to the Château Miraval website, the Cotes de Provence white was slated for release in August 2013 and the Coteaux Varois white was scheduled for release in September 2013. (The château has vineyards in both appellations.) In the Le Vigaro Vin interview, Perrin said that the Coteaux Varois white would be released first (in September) and the Cotes de Provence white would come later.

La Cave de Cotignac. Photo by Pamela J. O'Neill

No one we spoke with—in France or in the States—had seen either white wine although the proprietor of a high-end wine shop, La Cave de Cotignac, in the Var village of Cotignac, said that he had expected to receive the Coteaux Varois en Provence blanc last week.

Where were the whites produced? Where are the grapes from? And for goodness sakes, are they biologique…as earlier vintages had been? There used to be three whites, two of which were aged in oak barrels; the current website suggests just two whites would be released and we were told by our sources that none would be aged in oak barrels, as the Terre Blanche and Lady Jane cuvées had been. But, this is mostly hearsay, not a peep from Jolie-Pitt & Perrin.



The tasting room at Château Miraval in 2007,  prior to the Brad and Angelina acquisition.  Photo by Pamela J. O'Neill

According to the Château Miraval website, two reds will be released. One was expected in September 2013 and another in March 2014. We wait with bated breath, same questions in tow.

As we endeavored to unravel the curious case of the Miraval rose grapes, we veered into other areas and ended up with more questions than answers. Geesh, I don’t think we found any answers (except that the tasting room is definitely closed—we didn’t think to ask if Miraval wines are available for tasting in Orange).

The tasting to cave at Château Miraval in 2007, prior to the Brad and Angelina acquisition.  Photo by Pamela J. O'Neill

We even discovered another curiosity completely unrelated to the grapes. The sleek label, said to be designed by Jolie, has “Miraval” written around the top on bottles imported into the United States, but “Pink Floyd” is written across the top in France. One of our sources in the Var said that this difference was due to a copyright issue in the States. I don’t know and have decided to remain in a permanent state of curiosity about this one.



The issue about which our group of tasters is particularly curious is why didn’t the Team J-P&P just say that the 2013 Miraval rosé would not made (entirely) from organic grapes…if that is the case? Or, that the vineyards from which they received the grapes employed organic-cultivation best practices but, opted not to go through the certification process. Or, that all the grapes are organic but they opted not to put the logos on the bottle (because one can see that the diminutive label, apparently designed by Jolie, does not leave any room for any logos, however tiny, and the green colors would have clashed with the gold and navy blue colors).

Although there is a growing demand for “organic wine” and the number of vineyards going “bio” is steadily growing, it is an expensive process that takes as long as four years to receive certification, and then requires yearly certification. (And, interestingly, unlike fruits and vegetables, there is no campaign to support a mark-up in price of bio wines to cover these extra efforts.)

So, many wineries engage in organic-farming best practices but aren’t certified and others, mindful of the benefits of organic cultivation but aware of the “Great French Wine Blight” due to the Phylloxera aphid, use chemicals minimally.

I remember well the first bio vineyard we visited in Provence, some fifteen years ago.  It was Domaine des Terres Blanches in the small appellation, Les Baux de Provence, near Saint-Remy.  The people who worked there were so excited and took such pride in showing us the plantings (interspersed in the vines) that are compatible to the vines that but repellant to insects harmful to the vines.

The proof of these good practices is in the soil, the deep roots, and ultimately in bottle, these converts say. “What goes in the grape goes in the bottle.”

We really like the 2012 Miraval rosé. We are just curious.

Photo by W.T. Manfull

______________

Note: We also really, really like the 2012 Chateau Margüi rosé “Perle de Margüi” (Coteaux Varois en Provence) and will share our tasting notes on this wine in a later post. It deserves more attention than I could devote here. (Their tasting room is open Tuesday through Saturday!)


I am grateful to Pamela J. O'Neill for her research and photography.

This morning I received an email from Marc Perrin, from Famille Perrin (the well-known multi-generational wine family from Châteauneuf-de-Pape that is now in partnership with Château Miraval). As readers of Sunday’sTMT post (10/13/13) about Miraval’s grapes are aware, I had written to him but had not received a response prior to posting “The Curious Case of Miraval’s Grapes.” For those of you who are curious, I have answers.

A little background: Famille Perrin, according to their website, is “the leading organic wine grower of the Southern Rhone Valley” and, although they produce a range of wines from various estates, they are probably best known for their legendary Château de Beaucastel and, at the other end of the spectrum, the ubiquitous La Vieille Ferme. In between, there are many other wines including, as of 2012, those from Château Miraval.

In my earlier post, I expressed my curiosity about the provenance of...
the Miraval grapes, as the title suggests, and mused over the possibilities. Now, with input from Perrin, we have some answers.

First, the “organic” status of the Miraval grapes used in the 2012 rosé. Given that Château Miraval vineyards are 100% organic; that the Château ’s early rosé, Pink Floyd, was “organic;” that the 2012 vintage was advertised as being “organic;” and that Famille Perrin had long been champions of organic viticulture, we wondered why the rosé—the first Jolie-Pitt & Perrin wine—was not identified as “organic” on the bottle. Second, we wondered where the grapes came from, if not from the estate. Third, we wondered where the white wines were, as they were scheduled for release at the end of the summer, and whether those wines would be bio. Fourth, where was the rosé produced and where will future wines (all colors) be produced?

Perrin responded that yes…”the viticulture on the [Miraval] estate is and will remain 100% organic,” but “they don’t claim organic status” for any of the wines. In the case of the rosé, they do “blend the estate grapes with some grapes from other vineyards nearby.” (For the most persnickety readers, I did not ascertain whether these grapes are organically grown or not.)

In the case of the white wines, Perrin wrote that “the grapes come 100% from the estate.” Still, they won’t be labeled biologique “[m]ostly, because we want to keep our options open in the future, both in terms of grape[s] sourcing (for the rosé) and in terms of [the] winemaking process.”

They are producing two white wines: a Coteaux Varois en Provence, which was released in early October, and a Côtes de Provence, which will be released in March or April 2014. The Coteaux Varois will be a blend of Rolle (95%) and Grenache blanc (5%). The Côtes de Provence will be 100% Rolle. As mentioned above, all the grapes will come from the estate and are organic.

With regard to where the wines are produced—at Château Miraval or Famille Perrin—Perrin responded that all the wines—white, red, and rosé—are vinified (essentially meaning the grapes are crushed and turned into fermented juice) at Château Miraval. In fact, they essentially added “a new winery” that, in addition to the one previously used, “included stainless steel tanks, inertys press…and all new state of the art equipment, specifically for the rosé.”

Perrin said, “Once the wines are ‘finished,’ they are shipped [to] Famille Perrin for elevage and bottling. He added, “The specific form of the bottle (and magnum and jeroboam) also [required] some heavy investment that were not manageable on the estate’s prior bottling line.” At Famille Perrin (in Orange), there is “a state-of-the-art bottling line and a quality control system and team which is top notch.”

“Elevage” is, according to the Wine Spectator glossary, the “French term for the progression of wine between fermentation and bottling….The raw fermented juice is shaped during this period into something resembling its final form, through techniques such as barrel aging, filtering and fining.” It is this stage that “the juice [can] achieve its full potential.”

Well, I think that settles all curious matters raised in the first post. As I wrote in that post, I am a big fan of Miraval rosé (as are the other folks who have tasted and otherwise enjoyed the wine with us). We were just curious about a few things and are appreciative of the answers. A good wine’s story is always interesting to know.

And just in case you are curious, you can taste the Coteaux Varois white at Famille Perrin in Orange. Or, if you are not in Provence, the first orders of that wine are being shipped to the US right now (although export quantities are small).

To learn more about Provence rosé and Château d’Esclans, please read my earlier post, “Château d’Esclans’ Garrus Rosé Bedazzles.” I am grateful to Win Rhoades, proprietor of South Street and Vine in Portsmouth, New Hampshire, for his quick lesson in viticulture. Any errors here are not those of Paul Chevalier or Win Rhoades; they are mine (although they may related to drinking wine while taking notes!) 

What could be more fun than sitting in front of six glasses of pale rosé from Provence’s Château d’Esclans? Well, tasting each one with guidance from wine educator Paul Chevalier. That is what my daughter and I were doing last Sunday in New York at the City’s Wine and Food Festival.



Everyone in the seminar had fun, judging by the lively conversations and laughter between tastes. However, more importantly, we also learned a lot. Each wine was outstanding, but Chevalier, with his extensive background in viticulture and in winemaking from some of the top... estates in the world, infused each wine with personality as he explained the details of making each one and how those differences in vinification contributed to the differences we experienced in smell, taste, mouthfeel, and finish. Some contrasts were striking and others so subtle that if he had not brought them to our attention, they would have eluded most people. You could have heard the proverbial pin drop during the tastes as we all endeavored to note the characteristics of the wine that was crossing our respective palates.

Diligent readers of The Modern Trobadors will recall from an earlier post that Château d’Esclans produces four tiers of unique rosé. In ascending order, they are: Whispering Angel, Château d’Esclans, Les Clans, and Garrus.

We would taste the most recent vintages of each wine and, in the case of the latter two rosés (the premiere cuvées), we would have the pleasure of also tasting the previous vintage. Thus, the tasting comprised a horizontal tasting of the four wines: 2012 Whispering Angel; 2012 Château d’Esclans; 2011 Les Clans; and 2011 Garrus; and a vertical tasting that included the latter two rosés and the 2010 vintage of each one. (Because Les Clans and Garrus are aged for about a year, 2011 is the most recent vintage available.) All wines are produced at Château d’Esclans, owned by Sacha Lichine (former owner of Château Prieuré-Lichine 4th Grand Cru in Margaux), under the watchful eye of Patrick Léon (former winemaker for Château Mouton-Rothschild, Opus One, and Vina Almaviva). The Château is located in La Motte-en-Provence in the Var Department of Provence (AOC Côtes de Provence).

Sacha Lichine.  Photo courtesy of Château d'Esclans

My daughter was already familiar with Whispering Angel and, in fact, had raved about it. Many young people in New York know Whispering Angel because it is one of the City’s most popular by-the-glass rosés served in top clubs and restaurants. It is immensely popular in the Hamptons, where it is sometimes referred to as that area’s “drinking water.” I hasten to say that Whispering Angel, although the Château’s entry-level rosé, is popular among all age groups. (In our earlier tasting—including some folks over 50 years old—it was a huge hit!) It was even featured in an episode of an NBC television series, “Up All Night.”

I was familiar with the most recent vintage of each wine, but had not tried them all side by side. I was particularly excited to do this because, as you can see in the chart below, the grape varietals of each wine are basically the same (exactly the same in the case of the top three wines) and the percentages of each of the grapes are about the same (exactly the same in the case of the premiere cuvées).

In this horizontal tasting we would be able to examine the combined effects of five factors on (basically) two grapes. The factors are: age of the vines, elevation, soil, vinification, and aging. (See the chart below for the specific differences among the wines.) In the vertical tasting, we could examine the effects of aging the wine for a year (although, of course, there are myriad factors—mainly related to weather—that may affect each harvest).

	Whispering Angel (2012) $20	Château d’Esclans (2012) $35	Les Clans (2010 & 2011) $55-$65	Garrus (2010 & 2011) $90-$95
Grape Varieties	72% Grenache, 13.1% Rolle, 4.3% Cinsault, 7.1% Syrah, 3.5% Tibouren	85% Grenache, 15% Rolle	80% Grenache, 20% Rolle	80% Grenache, 20% Rolle
Age of Vines	10-12 years	20-25 years	50-55 years	80+ years
Elevation	Lower	Mid	Upper	High
Soil	Clay and Gravel	Clay and Limestone	Rocky, Limestone and Gravel	Very Rocky and Limestone
Vinification	100% Stainless Steel Fermentation Tanks	50% Stainless Steel Fermentation Tanks and 50% French Oak Barrels	100% French Oak Barrels (50% new oak and 50% one-year old oak)	100% French Oak Barrels (all new)
Aging	3-4 months	6 months	11-12 months	11-12 months
Alcohol Content (ABV)	13.5%	13.5%	13.5%	13.5%

Maybe I am a researcher at heart. I honed these skills early on, as an undergraduate in methods classes and as a research assistant to a professor who lived and breathed experimental psychology (especially in his lab of white rats, runways, and various sizes of reinforcement). The only saving grace at the time was that I garnered a reputation (and a tidy sum of money) tutoring other psychology majors for whom isolating a variable, while holding all others constant, to study its effects….well, the concept didn’t come naturally and certainly didn’t excite them. Later, I would find that having the scientific method firmly etched into my brain was helpful in graduate school and, still later, in just about any arena in which you want to understand something. But, I’ve diverged…what does this have to do with tasting wine?

I love to drink wine but I really love to understand it. Why, for example, does the same variety of grape taste so different from one region to the next or even from one estate to the next in the same region? Take the ubiquitous Sauvignon Blanc, for example. The wine produced from this grape tastes noticeably different from one side of the Loire River to the other (Pouilly-Fumé vs. Sancerre) and very different from that produced in New Zealand, California, or South Africa. I love a tasting that helps me discern those differences and to understand why they may be there.

That is exactly what my daughter and I—and a room full of other people—did when we attended the Château d’Esclans rosé tasting, hosted by Paul Chevalier and Sacha Lichine. Billed as a “Celebrity Cruises Wine Seminar” and hosted by Food & Wine, this wine tasting was exactly the kind I love. Methodical and lots of fun.

Lichine wasn’t able to attend but Chevalier—former winemaker, current educator and National Fine Wine Director with Shaw-Ross International Importers—took control of the stage with great finesse and tremendous depth of knowledge. Armed with a perfect balance of humor and fact, he guided us through the tasting of the estate’s four different rosés produced from the same (basic) grape varietals but differing in several other significant ways.



As Chevalier put it, he would walk us up the hill as we tasted the first four wines, beginning at the lowest elevation where the grapes for Whispering Angel are grown and ending at the highest elevation, the top of the hill, named Garrus (the Latin word for “bear,” which was chosen by the Romans because, apparently, the area was once filled with lots of wild bears). As we ascended the hill, the age of the vines increased dramatically and the soil went from clay and gravel to very rocky and limestone. How did these factors manifest themselves in the wine?

As we moved toward the top-tiered Garrus, the vinification process—particularly where the juice was fermented and aged as well as the length of time that the wine was aged—changed radically. How were the wines different as a result?

This methodical approach enabled us tasters to recognize the role that specific factors (mentioned above and detailed in the chart) played in creating the final product, the wine in those six glasses that now begged to be tasted.

Whispering Angel (2012). Although described as the Château’s entry level rosé and comprised of “everything that is not perfect” at the estate, this is an elegant rosé and among my favorites of other similarly priced (and even higher priced) rosés. I would enjoy having a few more bottles in my cellar (and my daughter would be ecstatic!).

Rosé Barometer.  Handout from the winetasting at NYC Wine & Food Festival 2013.

Its color, usually referred to as “rose petal,” is captivating. To maintain the pale color, the grapes (for Whispering Angel and all of the estate’s wines) are picked ripe and kept cool (with dry ice) from the time they are harvested (hand-picked at dawn, when it is cooler) and throughout the vinification process. Constant cold temperature and minimal contact with oxygen maintains the desired light color (as opposed to, say, apples turning brown when exposed to air).

The nose, Chevalier and others described as bearing ripe fruit with hints of something floral, and licorice and spice (from the Rolle). The mouthfeel, to me, seemed silky; Chevalier noted that it has some “viscosity” (which I think he said was also due to the Rolle). The taste is so pleasant, so easy that the contents of the bottle will disappear quickly (as we saw in our earlier tasting). Dry, no astringency. The finish is satisfying and surprisingly long.

Photo courtesy of Château d'Esclans

Because the grapes are picked very ripe, according to Chevalier, the wine is smooth, fleshy and dry but without the astringency and bite.

It is a light rosé, not surprisingly, for several reasons. The vines are young, producing twice as many bunches of grapes as the estate’s oldest vines. A higher yield of grapes enables more wine to be produced but the grapes themselves would have much less intense flavor. Any complexity—and to me, there is a surprising amount—probably comes from the additional blending grapes (see chart). To me, it is just what you would like to find in a classic Provence rosé. 

Château d’Esclans (2012). This is the Reserve Rosé, one step up from Whispering Angel. We have begun the walk up the hill to a slightly higher elevation where temperatures are slight cooler, the soil has some limestone in it, and the vines from which the grapes come are twice as old as those that provide the grapes for Whispering Angel. To make this wine, only half of the juice is fermented in stainless steel tanks while the other half ferments in demi-muids (600 liter French oak barrels). This wine is aged (in tank and barrel) for six months (about twice as long as Whispering Angel). So you would expect to see a more interesting, complex wine (with a higher price tag)…and you do!

Chevalier pointed out that we see “legs” (which he linked to the glycerol levels, a naturally occurring by-product of alcoholic fermentation) and that the mouthfeel has a slight creaminess (which he explained was due to the introduction of a new variable, oak barrel fermentation of half the wine). He also suggested that we should experience a little “minerality” (due to the presence of limestone in the soil, in contrast to the soil of the vines used for Whispering Angel). I tasted more pronounced fruit (dark berries, to me). Quite different from Whispering Angel. Not as perky, more elegant.

This wine was very appealing to me but it may be interesting to note that my daughter did not initially like this rosé. I think that Château d’Esclans is so different from Whispering Angel and most other rosés from Provence that she was taken aback. When she returned to this wine, later in the tasting, she liked it very much.

Les Clans (2011). To me, this wine is qualitatively different wine from the first two wines we tasted. It is much more complex: richer, more layered, much creamier, and a longer, more interesting finish. Les Clans has aged twice as long as Château d’Esclans (which is why the most recent vintage is 2011—the 2012 is still aging!). The vines from which the grapes were picked are significantly older than the last wines and indeed older than the vines that provide the grapes for almost any other rosé. Having been aged in 100% oak barrels also adds another dimension—increased texture—not as pronounced in the previous rosé (or rosés from almost any other estate). “Unctuous” is the word often used to describe this quality. (Chevalier made clear that the oak barrels are not used to add any oak flavor!).

Wine Spectator described this wine as having “…mouthfilling flavors of dried cherry, currant and ripe pear…flanked by concentrated notes of allspice and dark chocolate.” The review goes on to say “The finish unfolds with layers of candied ginger, pineapple and cream that are unctuous and complex.” The connection between my palate and the language centers of my brain will never be developed enough to produce such a description, but I can say unequivocally that this wine is exceptionally pleasing to my palate (and I will keep tasting in an effort to build the connection!)



As Chevalier pointed out, one has the distinct impression that “this is not a rosé.” It is certainly not what we think of as a rosé. Whatever it is, both my daughter and I really liked it.

Garrus (2011). In my earlier TMT post, I discuss our tasting of this wine. Here, second time around for me, this tasting reinforced how much I like this wine. At the risk of exaggerating, it is a veritable explosion of sensation in the mouth and nose.

Remember that Lichine’s goal with Garrus is to produce the best rosé in the world. He starts with grapes harvested from vines that are at least 80 years old and grown in a soil that will bring the best out in these grapes. To put this in perspective, 10-12 bunches of grapes are produced from each of these vines compared to 20-22 bunches from the youngest vines used to make Whispering Angel, making for very concentrated flavors. According to Lichine (in a video-taped interview with James Suckling) with longer roots that run deeper into the soil and through layers of the rocky limestone soil, searching for water and food, the upshot will be increased minerality, flavors, tastes, and general complexities in the grapes.

With Garrus, we are tasting wine made from grapes grown at the highest elevation (300 meters). As elevation increases, temperatures become cooler, which makes for sharper acidity and wines that are easier to pair with food. Garrus is particularly versatile in this area.

Patrick Léon.  Photo courtesy of Château d'Esclans

Patrick Léon, world-renowned wine maker in both Burgundy and Bordeaux, has years of experience as well as the latest generation equipment. He can employ state-of-the-art procedures from picking the grapes to bottling the wine but, nonetheless, it seems to me that this is a hand-crafted rosé.

If Les Clans doesn’t taste like what we expect rosé to taste like, Garrus really doesn’t seem like a rosé. With one’s eyes closed—or, as Chevalier said, in one of Reidel’s black glasses—no one would guess this was a rosé . I am not alone in saying that it tastes like a buttery white burgundy.

What made this particular tasting so interesting was that having Les Clans and Garrus right next to one another enabled us compare the same grape varietals, in the same proportions and aged for the same length of time, but differing in terms of age of vines, elevation, soil and proportion of new oak barrels. In comparison to the other two wines, the color of Les Clans and Garrus is much paler (due, as I understand it, to the long aging in oak). It is striking how so much flavor can be derived from those grapes—Grenache is a very dark “inky” grape—and how pale the color of wine is. The Garrus was better, but the differences were nuanced: more layers of flavors and a perfect feel (which, I think, means a perfect balance of acidity and fruit). As I wrote in the earlier post, I found it bedazzling. (But, I want to note that I would be very happy with a bottle of Les Clans, too!)

The last two wines we tasted were the two earlier vintages of Les Clans and Garrus. Unlike almost all other rosés, these two rosés can benefit from aging. Chevalier said that Les Clans may stay in the cellar for three years and Garrus for four years. (Wine Spectator suggested that the 2011 Garrus could be enjoyed through 2017!) To me, the differences were subtle and, for me, impossible to articulate except perhaps to say that age had mellowed the Garrus. I had a slight preference for the 2010 Les Clans…maybe….oh, geeze, I need to taste these two again!

Paul Chevalier

This was a terrific tasting that, as I said above, was both fun and very informative. It was fascinating to experience—in the nose and the mouth—how the wines changed as we walked up the hill to Garrus. That is, how basically the same two grape varietals can change under different conditions. As my daughter said, “Rosés have much greater depth than I had realized and Paul’s excellent presentation demonstrated how rosés really do have the same potential of complexity as reds and whites.”

The Darien Library:  We arrived early and got good seats.

Ham and Cheese Squares with Cornichons. This scrumptious "opening act" is made with Saffron and Honey Brioche (recipe also in cookbook) or with pain de mie (for which a recipe was just posted in good friend David's blog, Cocoa & Lavender).

Jerusalem Artichoke Soup with Toasted Pistachios and Pistachio Oil. Very good, although we found it to be much better the next day and, next time around, we would use a little less milk.

A mise en place for Homemade Chicken Stock. The stock, one of many of Wells' chicken stock recipes I have followed, was excellent.

Zucchini and Fresh Basil Velouté: Mise en Place and the Soup Excellent and very simple to prepare.

Eggplant in Spicy Tomato Sauce with Feta: Mise en Place and the finished dish. We really enjoyed the North African influence of the ground cumin.

Penne with Tomatoes, Rosemary, Olives, Artichokes, and Capers: Mise en Place and the finished dish. I fell in love with this dish.  It is fast to make and absolutely delicious.  Wells feels that people cook in "two speeds."  Slow is for those days that seem to stretch out before us, when time affords us the luxury of spending the day in the kitchen to prepare, for example, a daube. Fast is for meals after a long day, when you want something to eat quickly and easily.

Ham and Cheese Squares with Cornichons:  Mise en Place for the bread, the baked bread and the squares of ham, cheese, and brioche.

At the table with Patricia Wells. (Next time, I hope there will be good food and wine on the table!)

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NOTES:

Patricia Wells’ cooking classes are described here: http://patriciawells.com/cooking. To read more about Wells’ book on truffles, Simply Truffles, see my post: http://moderntroubadours.blogspot.com/2012/01/longing-for-black-truffles-consoled-by.html .
To see Wells' recipe for my very favorite fig tart, see my post: http://moderntroubadours.blogspot.com/2013/08/figs-in-provence-cause-for-sleuthing.html

Germaine Juneau, who is now living in Paris “doing her ‘junior year abroad’ in retirement,” is writing a blog for friends and family but if you want to have a peak, you are welcome to pop by www.Germainedujour.com. Her Paris kitchen may not be conducive to cooking but she is thoroughly enjoying the markets.

Adam Gopnik wrote my favorite book about the meaning of enjoying food and drink around the table, sharing with family, friends, and those who may become your friends by the end of the meal. See my post about The Table Comes First:  Family, France, and the Meaning of Food:  http://moderntroubadours.blogspot.com/2011/12/gopnik-is-right-table-comes-first.html

“Ah, the stress of meeting a French person,” an American friend once said to me. Remembering fondly her first trip to France, she said she landed in Paris where, after several weeks of introductions and various encounters with newly-made friends, she thought she had mastered the fine art of  la bise…. And then, she traveled south to Provence where she discovered the salutatory kisses were not at all carried out in any predictable manner. Her confidence crumbled.

Is it one or two or even three kisses? Is it right-side first or left-side first?

For someone already struggling  to remember how to say a few words in French—and whether to use tutoyer or vouvoyer forms—remembering comment faire la bise is enough to send one racing back to the ex-pat community.

It had been a while since I’d thought about this particular cultural difference. I have grown comfortable exchanging (usually) two kisses in Paris, commencing on... the right side, and three—even four—kisses in Provence, starting on the left side. However, I hasten to add that “usually” is the operative word and, most important in achieving success in the arena of la bise etiquette is honing one’s skills in observing people and copying them so as to go with the flow, as if it were all choreographed.  A good sense of humor helps, too. But I am getting ahead of the story….

The “faire la bise” subject surfaced a few weeks ago when I met a French man with whom I had exchanged many emails and had had several telephone conversations. Upon meeting, I thrust out my hand to shake his at the same time he, I think, leaned forward to kiss cheeks, French style. I found myself a little embarrassed. We both laughed a little and at the end of the afternoon, exchanged bises in standard French style (two, right side first).

My rendez-vous reminded me that when and how to kiss cheeks, French style, would be a good topic to cover in a post. Alors, quand et comment faire la bise comme les Français. (That is, when and how to do the kiss like the French.)



In general, cheek-kissing (sometimes called “air kissing”) refers to lightly touching cheeks together while essentially kissing the air. This endearing, very French greeting usually takes place when French friends and family meet each other for the first time each day and usually at the end of the encounter and definitely at the end of the evening.

Kisses may also take place when you are first introduced to another person by a friend or family member. (Important to note that you don't fait la bise with everyone to whom you are introduced; for example, not the fellow in produce section of the Hyper-U or a colleague to whom you are introduced in a business setting.)  Kisses almost always take place when thanking someone for a gift or when congratulating someone. An exception to the aforementioned guidelines might surface when the other person is significantly older or holds an important position; in that case, a hand shake is usually the better course to follow (but with any luck, he or she will initiate one or the other actions and you can go with the flow).

In Lourmarin, a lovely Provençal village where I have spent a lot of time, mornings are abuzz with bises. As I sit at a table at Café Gaby, I might exchange a dozen kisses with those I know who pass by.  And I watch the same scene repeat in the adjacent cafés. Men take off their hats and both men and women may take off their glasses (all in an effort to orchestrate this greeting with great aplomb…who would want to risk clanking glasses or knocking another’s hat off his head?). It seems that most people in Lourmarin start on the left side and tend to exchange three kisses.

However, good friend Pierre Schott reports that just 30 minutes north of Lourmarin, two kisses are typical. But, he quickly adds, “There are no rules—just take your cues from other people.”

To the east, in the Var Department of Provence, Pamela O’Neill said that two kisses are typical but, as for which side to start on, “I’ve been trying to figure that out since I moved here over ten years ago—there is no consensus, often making for awkward situations.”

Schott, who was born and raised in the Alsace Region of France, an area heavily influenced by its neighbor Germany, said that there, kisses are seldom exchanged outside of the cities in that region.

Click here to see how these two factors-number of kisses and which cheek to start on-vary across the Departments of France.

There may be one rule shared by most French people: hugging is not generally part of their culture. Two men may grasp right hands and wrap their left arms around each other’s backs, but it is not the bear hug to which many Americans are accustomed.

I adore watching French children come into a room filled with adults. They may bashfully bow their heads upon introduction but deftly move from adult to adult kissing both cheeks of each person until they have covered the room. It is a charming scene.

Men may prefer shaking hands in some regions of France, but in Provence where I have made my most concerted observations, most men who are close friends would choose "faire la bise" (although shaking hands is perfectly fine).

A situation I have found particularly awkward is when you have developed the habit of shaking hands with someone and, as you have come to know that person, you feel that it might be time to graduate to bises (and tutoyer...a subject for another post!). You can always just ask, "On fait la bise?" (That doesn't answer how many and which side though!)

In small villages like Lourmarin, where you may cross paths multiple times with the same person, one typically says something like “nous avons déjà fait les bises” and then waves. That is, "we have already done the kisses." (Otherwise, the day could be consumed with exchanging all those bises.) Similarly, when one comes into, say a dinner party in a restaurant, there can be a lot of kissing to do before one can sit down to be served a cocktail; I've noticed that some folks may "throw kisses," especially if it is difficult to make their way to everyone's cheek!

When not feeling well, one usually declines to exchange les bises, explaining that he or she is enrhumé.  Or when it is really hot (as it is in July and August in Provence), one may skip les bises, but always with a brief explanation.

When two people say goodbye who know they won’t see each other for a long time, they may hold their cheeks together closer and longer than usual. I remember the first time Muriel said goodbye to me like this, an intimate gesture that continues to warm my heart.

Meeting a French person—or a person from any country—is a pleasure.  It doesn’t matter whether you start with the left cheek and she starts with the right or you extend your hand and he extends his cheek.  Whether you settle on a shake or a kiss (or two or three) and even if you knock noses in the process, make eye contact, smile, and convey to the person how really good it is to see him or her.  That works in any culture.

Marché de Noël Lourmarin 2011.  Photo: Pierre Schott

Although lavender, poppies, and leisurely lunches with rosé at poolside tables are the typical draw to Provence, Christmas Markets—Les Marchés de Noël—are another wonderful reason to visit this region. Okay, it is cold but the sun is bright, the relaxed pace prevails, and the spirit of Christmas warms your heart.

Antique Postcard of the Market of Dresden in 1881  Photo: Genealexis

Another of my favorite galleries is Galerie Jacqueline Bricard whose showroom is filled with the work of Naïf painters from all around Europe and beyond. The paintings are guaranteed to make you smile.  Bricard also has lovely postal cards, a really nice, tiny gift to take home.

Marché de Noël Lourmarin 2011.  Photo: Pierre Schott

Marché de Noël Lourmarin 2011.  Photo: Pierre Schott

Marché de Noël Lourmarin 2011.  Photo: Pierre Schott

Marché de Noël Lourmarin 2011.  Photo: Pierre Schott

Marché de Noël Lourmarin 2011.  Photo: Pierre Schott

Notes:

If you are looking for a vacation home rental in Lourmarin, please visit www.RentOurHomeInProvence.