Pink dinner party A few months ago I participated in a wine tasting at Château Capitoul in nearby Gruissan. Of the many wines they produce, there was one that stood out: Rive, their signature rosé. This is notable for two reasons: one is that I don’t generally drink rosé, and the other is that this is definitely a unique wine. I tasted roses, which seems apt if a little unusual.
I enjoyed talking with the fellow who did the tasting for our group, and we spoke a lot about the foods that might accompany the wines. When we tasted the Rive rosé, he said something that stuck in my head: it would be fun to feature this wine at an entirely pink dinner party.
So we did just that, last week, and it was a lovely pink evening on my terrace. Here’s the evidence:
If you think you’d like to do something similar, you can start by making a list of pink foods, and then use that to build a menu. We did our best to stick with seasonal foods, so watermelon was off the menu, but it would be a great addition.
For appetizers (entrée in French) we drank pink champagne and nibbled on red radishes with butter and sea salt. We also had small cups of puréed tomato gazpacho with crème fraîche. (Purée is itself a French word, but puréed soup is called velouté in France, meaning velvety.)
We served the Rive rosé with the main course (plat in French), which consisted of two protein dishes, salmon and ham. We kept them both fairly simple, making a sauce that worked for both. We also had a salad made of purple endive and red oak leaf lettuce, with grapefruit, avocado and pomegranate seeds. The salad dressing was made with a raspberry coulis. At the grocery store, we happened to find some edible flowers in a medley of pink hues, and those went into the salad and also decorated the serving dish for the ham.
For dessert we had a lovely raspberry sorbet topped with fresh berries, and a delightful box of Mon Chéri candy.
The color theme was continued when we found some pink Himalayan salt and bright reddish-pink peppercorns. A vase of pink peonies and roses completed the picture.
Parting shot I was driving along a country road and spotted the sign below, an amusing bit of street art that’s similar to the work of an artist I’ve met, Clet Abraham. Clet has altered many street signs in his home city of Florence, Italy, and more of his work is found around the world. I have no idea who helped this deer to fly, but it’s fun!
The merry month of May For this post, I have a real mix of things to share with you: some travels within France, the French election, the wonders of nature… and a national championship. First up are a few things I saw on a spring visit to Paris.
With freedom comes responsibility Presidential elections in France are run quite differently than those in the United States, my original country. Among many differences, there is a runoff with all the candidates who qualify—this year it was 12 people—and then the top two vote-getters move on to participate in the final vote just two weeks later.
My friend Olivier feels quite strongly that it is both a right and a responsibility to vote. At the time of the first round of presidential voting, he was hosting business clients in Bordeaux.
But Olivier votes in Paris, which requires a drive of at least five hours or a three-hour train ride. Voting always takes place on a Sunday in France; thus it was that late on Saturday evening, Olivier took the last train from Bordeaux to Paris, and went home to sleep. He arose early the next morning, and was the first person in line to vote when the polls opened at 8:00 am. He voted, then dashed across Paris to catch the earliest-possible train back to Bordeaux and his clients.
And his clients, a group of Americans, told him how impressed they were that he had made such an effort. How many among us would?
I happened to be visiting friends in Nice at the time of the first round of voting, and I asked if I could accompany them when they voted that Sunday morning. I wanted to see what it was like, to compare and contrast the experience with the voting experience in the United States. It was interesting, and worth it.
Mother Nature One day I was out for a walk, and the sky was putting on a wonderful display. High winds were helping to create some delightful cloud formations such as the one in the photograph above.
That evening, I was visiting friends Claude and Maryse, and from their terrace we saw more dramatic clouds:
Birds! Last year I spoke of how I’d noticed the similar songs of three local birds: the collared dove, the hoopoe and the cuckoo. A few weeks ago I actually got to hear the harmonies in real time. First I spotted a dove and a hoopoe sitting together on a roof, both singing. A few moments later, I heard a cuckoo far up the hill above me. The three-part harmony was astounding.
I’ve found three recordings on YouTube, and I’ll include the links here. You can open three browser windows, queue up one bird in each window, then hit “play” for all of them at the same time. You’ll be able to hear what I heard in that one magical moment in time.
Parting shot (literally) The University of Kansas Jayhawks—my alma mater—won the men’s college basketball national championship, and I’m pretty darn pleased about that. Rock Chalk Jayhawk!
One of our players is named Remy Martin, which also happens to be the name of a French cognac. During the second half of the game, the player named Remy made a few key baskets, and announcer Bill Raftery said, “There’s nothing like a little Remy in the evening.” Another yay for clever broadcasting!
I’m a big fan of street art, and the place I know best is the city where I first discovered just how great street art can be: Paris, bien sûr! Come along with me to visit my own piece of Parisian street art, and to see some art I photographed this past June.
Above: a gorgeous, larger-than-life bison wall mural in the 12th arrondissement. I had trouble finding the artist’s name, but my friend Dan found it: he is Ruben Carrasco.
I spent the Covid lockdown of late winter and spring 2020 in the rural South of France, in a region that had few cases and very few deaths. Ours was one of the first regions to be declared “green,” which meant that we got to ease out of the restrictions a little more quickly than other parts of France that were labelled orange or red.
As the confinement came to a close in mid-May, my friend Olivier suggested that this summer might be a good time to visit Paris. In my mind, Paris is always a good idea (thank you, Audrey Hepburn!), but I really waffled about whether to make this trip. Traveling from a region with low numbers for the disease into a red-zone city that saw a high number of cases and deaths was enough of a risk to give me pause. Eventually I decided to go, mainly to see what Paris would look like without the crowds. Today’s post is a little journal of my visit to the City of Light.