The Woman Behind the Champagne

This weekend we escaped the city on the TGV and went to Reims, champagne country. My sister, her husband, and baby are visiting, and we were happy to explore a part of France we'd never seen.

We visited Veuve Clicquot, one of the best champagne houses in France, and the world, since real champagne can only be produced in Champagne, France. Or so the French say. "Champagne" makers in Napa Valley disagree. I visited this wine country in 2006, and was told by "champagne" houses there that they, too, create champagne because they've developed the techniques necessary to make this sparkling wine. I happen to think that dry, o Brut, "champagne" made by  Korbel is actually quite good - and a heck of a lot cheaper than Veuve Clicquot. 

However, I respect French traditionalism and will side with them when they say they've got the one true champagne. I won't pretend to be an expert in this, because I am definitely not, but from what I understand, there is a crucial element in French champagne-making that is different from Napa Valley. The chalk. The Champagne region of France (and some of it's best wine regions across the country), are areas of high chalk or limestone content. They say that the best grapes grow in chalky environments.

Back to Reims. To be honest, there's not much to see. Next time we'll rent a car and drive around the vineyards, which are prettier than the otherwise industrial surroundings of Reims. The city center is nice, with beautiful architectural features and some lovely fountains and statutes. Notre Dame de Reims is stunning. 13th century Gothic architecture - complete with flying buttresses, gargoyles, and stain-glass windows in sharp blues is very special.

We were a bit disturbed by the bombardment of mass consumption that saturates the lovely buildings of Reims. These are mostly cheap clothing shops and mediocre restaurants. There are little, if no, quaint shops dedicated to the art of champagne. How could the tradition and history that is so respected in a place like Reims be so tarnished by tacky mass consumerism?


Veuve Clicqot has obviously managed a balance. They've mastered the art of participating in global market distribution and in continuing to strengthen a majorly recognized brand and reputation for excellence. They've also stayed true to the ethics and values of the company, which were created by the widow herself (veuve means widow in French). She took over the company in 1772 when her husband died at age 30. She was 28, and to say that she was ahead of her time is an understatement. The champagne house flourished during her 89 years. She developed champagne-making techniques, including one to separate the sediment that develops inside champagne bottles, which made champagne cloudy before she came along. The widow ensured the future stability and success of her business and inspired her successors to continue innovating. 

We toured the cellars (of which there are 24km), learned about how their champagne is made, and tasted some bubbly, of course. What can I say, I melt at the thought of a flute of dry champagne. I confess I've been raised as a champagne snob. My mother knows a lot about it and has drilled into me that bad champagne is worse than any other kind of bad wine. It gives you headaches, and it's better to run away from it screaming.


"La grande dame de la Champagne", as the widow is known, didn't run away screaming. She was a tough cookie and made the company what it is today - another example of French elegance and tradition. There is an award called The Veuve Clicquot Award which honors some of the world's leading business women. 

Will I be such a business woman one day? I think I have to perfect my macaroons, fillets, and terrines. Meanwhile, I'll continue to get inspiration from some good bubbly.

Mind, body and soul

I remember when I was nine years old and my mother took me to the National Gallery of Art in Washington DC to see my first Monet. I imagine that the pastel colors and lovely flowers and fields as subjects would delight most young girls, just as they delighted me.


At 31, those paintings still speak to me in a special way. However, I don't think it's necessarily the pastel colors and nature subjects that draw me in these days. I've grown to appreciate a deeper meaning in what Monet painted. His Nympheas can be so dramatic. In fact, the other day when I saw them at L'Orangerie, I thought of extreme beauty which leads to a kind of melancholy. Can something so beautiful last?


Monet managed to document moments in nature on his canvases, and people still flock to them by the thousands. Reproductions of his work are rampant, and everyone can identify his work from a mile away. However, the reproductions are nothing to the original. The subtleties of the brushstrokes and intensity of the colors are not able to be matched by a camera or computer imagery. 


So lovely are Monet's Nympheas on canvas, that I had to see the real thing; his inspiration for such dramatic beauty. So, last Saturday I saw this (the masterpiece)...

in awe of monet's nympheas at l'orangerie

...and the next day, at Monet's house in Giverny, I saw this (the inspiration):

monet's lilipads in giverny

My purpose for coming to France was to study culinary arts. However, I find myself feasting on the work, and the inspiration, of the genius artists who lived here once upon a time. This country is nourishing me - mind, body and soul. 


More Monet (details of his Nympheas and details of his Giverny gardens):

moss underwater

A note on this father's day

Please pardon the mushy content of this entry. I hope you're able to look beyond it, however, and appreciate what I'm trying to say.


Husband
I fell in love with my husband immediately after I met him. But the thing that really told me he was the one for me was when I realized that he would be a wonderful father. I can remember the moment I thought to myself that if he had children, the world would be a far better place. I knew he'd be an awesome person to have a baby with. To educate the way I wanted, to travel to the places I wanted to go, to experience the world in the way I can appreciate, and to love in the way I know how to love. 


Father
My father is one of the coolest people I've ever met. He is the voice inside my head (actually - it's his and my mom's voices together that does the trick) and guides me. He has a high position at one of the world's most important organizations, he is generous, intelligent, hilarious, and everyone he meets loves him. 


Father-in-law
My father-in-law is one of the most giving, patient, and selfless people I know. He's dedicated his life to teaching wealthy, underprivileged children, and everyone in between, to adoring his wife, and to supporting two wonderful sons. 


So, my son is covered. He has the best possible male role-models I can think of. He's already showing signs that he has all of the traits he sees in the men around him. I'm a happy mom.


What does this have to do with my food blog? Well, I just wanted to write about how these three men are making this experience possible for me. My husband, for not only telling me to go for it, but for constantly encouraging me and telling me I'm going to be great at this cooking business, and also for living up to that image I had of him as a magnificent father. My father, for being that voice inside my head who tells me that if I want to do something, I have to do it right. And my father-in-law....well, I think I'll tell you a little story to illustrate this man's limitless patience and joy for taking care of his grandson. I came home the other day and found him on all fours and my son on top of him saying "fire chief!" with the biggest smile you can imagine.


So, all you fathers out there. Remember that you're not only raising your own children, but are supporting an entire network of people, including grandchildren and daughters-in-law. You have a lot of power. Your image means an awful lot, and your encouragement can raise mountains. 

hold my hand, and i'll take you where you want to go

A Week In Provence II - Au Marche

Today I went to a provencal market in the town of Nyons. It was one of the best outdoor markets I've been to, and I went a little nuts. This is why:

You said you liked my photos, so I decided to post more than usual today...Feast your eyes!

A week in Provence

I am on a balcony, overlooking a 14th century village in the South of France. It's a place called Mirabel-aux-Baronnies and it's delightful. My son and I are visiting one of my greatest friends and her two sons, and we're having a fantastic time.

We took a morning train out of Gare de Lyon and even though I love Paris, and am enjoying every minute of my life there, I was glad as the train left the station and the view of apartment complexes and warehouses changed into views of fields, sheep, and the French countryside.

It's been 19 years since I last came to this part of the world, and even though that is a long time, I immediately remembered why I love this place so much. I love the golden light upon the arid soil, the blue and lavender window shutters, the terracotta flower pots housing ruby red geraniums, the taste of olive oil so good you can drink it, and the wine. Oh, the wine.

blog-writting set-up

mirabel-aux-baronnies, provence

So what am I eating in this corner of lavender, olive oil, and wine heaven, you ask? FRUIT! Fruit that I pick with my own two hands from the family orchard. Cherries, apricots, white peaches, and I have my eye on a fig that should be ready by tomorrow - if the bees don't get to it first, that is.

my son in the orchard, between olive trees and grape vines

an apricot. it's not perfect like the pesticide-injected variety, but it's real and pure 

I'm a total city slicker, but I think I inherited traits from my mother's German woman-of-the-earth ancestry. As I pick a cherry and put it in my mouth, I think about how real it all is. How pure and perfect.

Yesterday we drove to the lavender fields. Even though they're not quite in full bloom, they were breathtaking. Today I bought lavender salt and lavender sugar. I've been told that the lavender salt goes beautifully with lamb. I'll try it, and tell you how it goes.

Time and light have different effects here in Provence. Days go by in sleepy towns and the sun has a special hold on this corner of the world. At the end of the day here, I feel relaxed, content, and inspired. This place did inspire some of the most important artists of all time, after all...Here is the next generation:

In Season

As I've told you before, a major reason why I wanted to study at Le Cordon Bleu in Paris is because of the city's markets and their fresh and delicious produce. These markets promote fruits, vegetables, fish, and meats that are in season. Remember when you had to plan recipes and menus according to what was in season? 


Thanks to free trade agreements and transportation systems that I find miraculous, you can buy strawberries 365 days a year, mangos in the dead of winter, and tomatoes come rain, frost, or shine. However, I find that most fruits, including apples and pears, don't have as much flavor as they used to because they're picked before their ideal ripe/picking time in order to last the long trip to your neighborhood supermarket.


In France, it seems that fruit and vegetable vendors, fish mongers, and everyone else take pride in presenting goods that are in season. This is wonderful because you are, after all, supposed to eat things when nature intended. Of course you can also find out-of-season products in France, but it is evident that people pay more attention to consuming things that are in season.


I believe that the chefs at LCB wanted to emphasize the importance of using ingredients that are in season and planned our cooking schedule accordingly. White asparagus and small Mediterranean crabs are in season right now in France, so yesterday's demonstration included a white asparagus veloute and a crab bisque. 

Yesterday's cuisine demonstration was refreshing and quite simply a joy. Chef Frank described the artful, step-by-step process of making soups in colorful and tasteful detail. The crab bisque went through many transformations; blanching, sauteing, flambeying, reducing, straining, and finally, presenting. The end result was to die for. Its burnt orange color had a deep taste that began with a crab infusion and ended with a rich vegetable aftertaste. Very good.

crab bisque

Chef Frank also gave us two great tips that are helpful when cooking many dishes:


1. Add vegetables to the pot one by one according to their varying cooking times, as opposed to adding them all at the same time.
2. Add a little water to a sauce pan when melting butter in order to prevent the butter from burning.


Tomorrow morning I'll make my crab bisque - wish me luck! I'll tell you how it goes.

white asparagus veloute