french essence

films for a valentine mood...

2012-02-03T09:23:00.000Z

I am a romantic... love a romance, love my romance. I am very, very lucky I have been having the same romance with the same guy for longer than I haven't... That's a long time. As it is the month of romance I have put together a list of my most favourite romantic movies. They aren't necessarily French, because we girls have no national boundaries when it comes to love... but they are the ones I watch over and over... the ones to put me in the Valentine mood and the ones that I will be watching this month of February...

And if nothing else romance is always about mood.. Don't you think?

Right mood... room for romance... lots of romance...Wrong mood... Romance takes a back seat and is the furtherest thing from our minds... And that won't do... So... to put you in the mood and in no particular order... my romantic list... Please feel free to add to my romantic meanderings... Happy watching... xv

(click on the links if you would like to read the synopsis from Amazon or to order the films....)

An Affair To Remember

Sabrina

Somethings Gotta Give

Four Weddings and a Funeral

Notting Hill

An Officer and a Gentleman

Baisers Volé (Stolen Kisses)

A Man and A Woman

Cyrano de Bergerac

P.S Suggestions so far... each time I have read your favourites I have thought... Yes... love that one... another one I must watch...
You've Got Mail, Out of Africa, The Holiday, Serendipity, Funny Face, Summertime, Love Actually, A Very Long Engagement, Pretty Women, French Kiss, Room With A View, A Good Year, The English Patient, Love In The Afternoon, Gigi, Notorious

We have some serious romance ahead of us this month...

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images - vicki archer

the french ballet slipper...

2012-02-01T23:30:00.000Z

French girls love a ballet flat almost as much as they love their Converse or their pair of biker style boots. When not wearing talons they wear ballet pumps... and they are a fabulous look... Ballet flats are comfortable, look great with jeans... skinny ones preferably... or even prettier with a full skirt and nipped in waist. They are a classic French wardrobe staple and in my nearly twenty years of 'French girl observation' not much has changed... ballet pumps pound the pavements and peddle the bicycles more than any other type of footwear. The ballet slipper to the French is what the loafer is to an Italian...

Shopping for ballet slippers is easy in France... from the most expensive a la Chanel to the cheap and cheerful copies in the high street boutiques.... Repetto, a brand I love sits in the middle although disappointingly the prices have been creeping up to a ridiculous level. The problem is... and I promise myself I won't buy another pair... is that Repetto gets it right every time... the shape sits prettily on the foot and the colours are always the ones I want. I do have a trick to making them last which has made all the difference to their longevity and that in turns makes their pricing more justifiable... don't you just love a 'shoe queen's logic... Before I wear them I have the cobbler add a new non slip heel and sole... you barely notice the change and it doubles the life of the shoes. The existing soles on a pair of Repetto's are fragile and will barely last a season... I do often wonder why I have to re-sole and heel brand new shoes... but I suppose there are worse agonies and costs we endure for the sake of fashion...

My other go to shoe secret in France is called André , a chain of shoe boutiques that are located all throughout Paris. André make reasonable quality copies of all the latest designer footwear... and they are good. Three pairs of ballet flats for the price of one pair from Repetto... hard to fight those numbers... My solution... I save my Repetto pair for 'best' and use my André flats for everyday... win/win don't you think...? xv

For your Parisian address book

Repetto

15 rue Soufflot

75005 Paris

125 rue Vielle du Temple

75003 Paris

André

33 rue Sevres

75006 Paris

80 rue Saint-Antoine

75004 Paris

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the must have ingredients for a Parisian cafe...

2012-01-31T23:30:00.000Z

Bistro chairs facing the street

Waiter in the classic black and white

Bicycles parked out front on cobblestone streets

Glowing ambience inside

Old style bar with place to perch

Good coffee (not always a given in Paris)

Tempting menu du jour

Au Petit Fer a Cheval, in the heart of the Marais, ticks all those boxes... Inside behind the bar there are a few small tables to eat at... the food, in particular the salads, are delicious... If you have time... spend some there... it is the perfect vantage point for some Parisian people watching... xv

Another one for your address book...

Au Petit Fer a Cheval

30 rue Vielle du Temple

75004 Paris

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paris girls...

2012-01-30T23:30:00.000Z

Aren't these papier mache girls heavenly?

I'm a little quiet today... under the weather with a massive flu or head cold... something unexciting and seriously unattractive... which means my creativeness has disappeared under a box of tissues and has been diluted by the hot water and lemon I am drinking by the gallon... Whatever the reason, my thoughts for today will have to take a back seat until later in the week...

But just so the page isn't lonely I will leave you with a great address for your Parisian notebook...

Tresor boutique

it's at the end of a lane/courtyard

on the corner of 28 Rue Vielle du Temple in the Marais

75004 Paris

You will love it... plenty of French temptation of the girly kind... xv

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i'll always have paris...

2012-01-29T23:30:00.000Z

Another one for you...

After my Julia Child moment yesterday, one of my readers suggested this memoir by the American humorist Art Buchwald... I am embarrassed to say I haven't read this but on all accounts it sounds brilliant and highly entertaining... Any Paris chat from the 50's and 60's and I am in...

I have just ordered my copy and I thought you might like to read it too... xv

I'll Always Have Paris by Art Buchwald

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my life in france...

2012-01-28T23:30:00.000Z

This is the weekend for My Life in France. Are you as fascinated by Julia Child as I am? I learnt of her long after she was America's favourite and a personality in France. I imagine if you grew up in the States, Julia child was a household name... not so for me in Australia.

I have read most of her works, studied and cooked from her tome Mastering the Art of French Cooking and watched over and over the film, Julie and Julia, starring my favourite actress Meryl Streep. Now I am onto the TV series, The French Chef... You could say I have a crush... I think it is Child's love of France that I find so infectious, her joie de vivre for food and the joy in which she embraces her adopted country...

I am particularly looking forward to reading, As Always, Julia: The Letters of Julia Child and Avis DeVoto... this is a new one for me...

If you are in the mood for a weekend with Julia child I heartily recommend the following...

My Life In France... (I am already a couple of chapters in...)

Mastering the Art of French Cooking... (a staple for any Francophile...)

Julie and Julia... ( the film... for Ms Streep, her magnificence and the Paris sets...)

As Always Julia:The Letters of Julia Child and Avis DeVoto... ( My new page turner...)

The French Chef... (Old fashioned but that is the charm...)

(European readers can find Julia Child's books here)

Thank you for all your wonderful comments and emails this week... you are the very best...

Happy Weekend

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paris and a boulangerie...

2012-01-28T07:41:00.000Z

How far would you go for the perfect baguette and a mouth watering eclair?

Sometimes a girl's got to do what a girl's got to do... so I did... I took the train to Paris and feasted on some of the most delicious gateaux I have tasted... Not the way to start the New year... I know... I should be full of resolve and resolution... but I prefer to think that a petite taste of Paris is far better for my psyche than a list of restraint...There is nothing more indulgent than roaming the streets in search of the perfect pastry... and that's what I did.

As I boarded the train home, baguette under my arm, I couldn't wipe the smile of my face... Total indulgence, simple pleasures... they make life grand... xv

Try these if you dare...

Comme a Lisbonne

37 rue du Roi de Sicile

75004 Paris

Au Petit Versailles du Marais

1 rue Tiron

75004 Paris

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overheard in the truffle market...

2012-01-27T07:01:00.000Z

I get the fuss about truffles... the 'black diamonds' of France... I declare to you all, with hand over heart, that I am a serious truffle lover. I can eat them for breakfast... Imagine... a big chunky slab of sourdough with lashings of creamy French butter, generous shavings of truffle and a sprinkle of salt. I can eat them for lunch... Picture... fresh tagliatelle, a pouring of thick cream, a dash of olive oil and copious amounts of finely sliced truffle all finished with a hearty twist of black pepper and a good pinch of sea salt... I can eat them for dinner... Can your taste buds conjure up succulent roast chicken atop a bed of truffle mash? I could go on...

Truffles are both an extravagance and an acquired taste. They are earthy, pungent, almost sensual with an aroma that is one-of-a-kind... Truffles are rare and celebratory... Truffles are a food to savour and to linger over; a food to revere. Truffles are big business.

Every Saturday from late November through March black truffles are sold in the small village of Richerenches in the Vaucluse. We went with intent... We went in search of the 'black diamond'... and most fortunately for us we went with a friend who could navigate and negotiate the cloak and dagger transaction necessary to acquire les truffes... It appeared all so complicated for a novice like me... There were the official sellers, with licenses, who were happy to sell to the public and then there were the wholesalers who sell only to restaurants and those in the trade. Into this mix add the rogue farmers who were happy to sell to anyone for the right price.. despite their lack of papers... And this all takes place in a tiny village under the watchful eyes of the gendarmes... Who should we buy from?

This is what happened:

Our friend staked out the market in the name of research. He did a casual lap of the main street where the 'legal' vendors had established their stalls and then, very discretely, he investigated a side street where the 'wholesalers' had set up shop. 'Shops' in this case meant parked cars, one after the other, with their trunks open. Professional scales, sacks of truffles and large steel cash boxes made up the car boot inventory. Crowded with purposeful French men, their moustaches and animated expressions in place, he blended in.

He talked the good talk as he meandered... the kind of French eloquence you need to negotiate a transaction of such delicacy. His small talking chat with the locals had purpose... He established the market price for truffles per kilo... In this script local knowledge meant everything... Inflated prices, poor quality and inaccurate weighing are a trap for young players.

He played his hand and chose a car with what appeared to be a high turnover. (There was no such thing as an easy buy from a certified seller in the main street... not when all the action was taking place in the 'car park'.) He waited patiently for his turn. Each buyer ahead of him was involved in a lengthy debate... A discussion concerning quality and price can never be rushed in France... and then there was the question of weight... The truffles were weighed several times in order for both parties to be d'accord... As he waited a fellow sidled up and tapped him on the arm... The conversation went something like this...

"Are you buying?" the man whispered softly.
"Perhaps," our friend replied.
"I have some very excellent truffles here in my bag," he murmured.
"I found them yesterday afternoon in the forest so they are supremely fresh," the man said with a satisfying smile.
"Do not be mistaken, they are not farmed truffles; these beauties are of exceptional quality. The truffles are exquisite, they are sauvage," he said with a very authoritative tone.
(The superlatives are not of my creation... a Frenchman when talking of his truffle is very passionate...)

He gently lifted his prize out of the canvas bag for our friend to inspect... It was everything a truffle should be... heady in scent, of good shape and firm to the touch... They talked some more and then both of them nodded their heads. As I watched this guarded performance I was surprised to see them walk away in separate directions, presuming that the deliberations had fallen down. I was fooled... They had struck a deal, of quantity and price, but in order for the financials to occur this particular vendor wanted to be clear from view of the car park for the 'completion'. He had broken the chain of command and sold his 'black diamonds' directly to our friend... a mere passerby, a non-restauranteur... someone not in 'the club'. Lucky for us... The truffles we acquired were excellent, our friend did us proud.

One little piece of trivia for you... The gendarmes patrolling the market are not there to chastise those who don't have truffle licenses, as I thought... but rather to prevent any crime that may occur in the village. Truffle stealing you think... No... Cash stealing... According to local rumour more than 800,000 euros changes hands every two hours... 'Black diamonds' most certainly.... xv

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an 18th century french print for everyone...

2012-01-24T23:30:00.000Z

The French are passionate about their dogs... I think I adore my dog... I know I do... but not quite in the same way as the French. Look at the 'baby' in this print taking pride of place at the table and being hand fed... Can you imagine my 100kg Apache (thankfully he hasn't gained any more weight) sitting up with us at the dining table being seduced by bite-sized morsels... I am not sure if I am laughing or terrified at the thought...

One of my readers from North Carolina, David Terry, who you may recognise from his charming, funny and very entertaining comments has so generously offered to send you and readers of My French Country Home a printable size file of this gorgeous engraving. All you have to do is click here and follow his lead...

Do you know what I really love most about blogging? It is the chance to meet and make friendships with people from all over the world who share my love of all things French. I wrote a little more about this here today... I am constantly touched by the generosity and thoughtfulness of my readers... I feel as if we are great friends and that we understand each other well. In many cases it is as if we have known each other all our lives and that the physical boundaries are meaningless.

Please visit David Terry Art here to arrange your print...Don't be shy... he is expecting you... I will be having mine printed just as soon as I can... and David... thank you a million times for thinking of us all... xv

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P.S from David... a little history behind the print...
"Just for the record? I just got up (6:30 a.m back here in the USA) and was surprised to find that I've received something around twenty emails since last checking before I went to bed at midnight. They're all requests for the dog-print. I'd forgotten about the time-difference between here and France.

As for the "story" behind the print?.....

I first saw it, about 8 years ago, at the fascinating house of my French partner's godmother. Francoise is a fiercely wry, 5' tall (at MOST), retired professor of classical Languages. We always stay at her and her husband's house, out in the countryside beyond Tours, for a few days during our summer and Christmas trips to France. Francoise maintains a large pigeonaire which has always been filled with with fifty or so white doves....terribly stupid, but quite beautiful; I've painted them at least six times over the years.

the house itself is wonderful/fascinating.....a 17th century manoir with an 18th century, 2-story, cottage-like addition (originally a kitchen and housekeeper's quarters) and an enormous, long, 2-story 16th century stone barn which tiny (but wildly energetic) Francoise somehow had moved (don't ask me how) and added on, at a perpendicular angle. She raised three children.....so their bedrooms were upstairs, and they had the entire ground floor for themselves. As Francoise says, locking them in at night, once they turned into teenagers-with-idea-of-their-won, was as simple as locking-in three young heifers.

The print hangs in the large dining-room (the old "cottage"), along with about twenty prints from the same series...all depicting the various follies, eccentricities, and vanities of the haute bourgoisie (the bibliophile, the gourmande, the obese and inept "sportsman",the woman obsessed with shoes or hats, etcetera). they're all quite funny and, for the most part, not in the LEAST outdated in terms of social criticism. La plus ca change?....

Francoise obligingly knocked the original print out of its frame and had the thing deep-scanned for me.

More interestingly/romantically? It's a well-known fact (Francoise's mother knew the woman in question) that the house was inhabited, prior to WWII, by a young woman who was a poet. Her lover was an Englishman...an artist who (to the scandal of the neighborhood) came to live there in the late thirties.

The war came and, of course, he went back to England to join up with the army. On one of the casement panes in the dining-room window, there's a rather large (perhaps 6" by 8") engraving...presumably done with a diamond ring. The engraved poem and it's floral border are dated only a few days after the German invasion of Paris. The woman was evacuating for Bordeaux (I've always relished Adam Gopnik's description of Bordeaux as "the place where French always go to give up"), and she knew that she might never see him again....but that he might, one day, see the poem, even if she were gone. That is, in short, the gist of the poem itself (which she wrote in English for him). She did, eventually and after the war, return...and lived there for many years thereafter. He, however, never did return. She never married.

The story's a bit too romantic for cynical me (or Francoise, for that matter) to believe....but there the engraving (proof) is.

As for these prints? I've given away at least ten (to various friends who, like me, are a bit abashed to admit how thoroughly obsessed they are with their dogs), and folks love them. Be sure to have the print made professionally (Kinko's copy-shop generally isn't up to snuff) at a framers or print-makers. If printed at 10" x 12", the print will be indistinguishable from the original."

a chanel weekend...

2012-01-22T23:30:00.000Z

see all the invitations here

Last year's Spring-Summer haute couture invitation, beautifully graphic and immediately reminiscent of Chanel No 5, got me thinking about Chanel and in particular the perfume. There is something about a dab of Number 5 that makes me feel glamorous and womanly... I can't put it into words but it is without doubt the one fragrance that many of us want to try and to wear at certain times...

This weekend is calling for a Chanel moment... I need a little spoiling... The clever thing about Chanel is that whether you indulge in a lipstick or a nail polish... whether you have a 2.55 quilted handbag or if indeed you have the great luxury of couture... The black and the white, the intertwined CC's make us feel that little bit more French, more female... special... and I am all for that... Sometimes we woman need a little self pampering... and a touch of Chanel can do just that...

My 'Chanel Weekend' is going to go something like this...

I want to walk through a cloud of Chanel No 5 and I want to wear rich red lipstick on Saturday night (nothing puts me more in a French mood than red lipstick)...

but most of all I want to curl up with one of my Christmas presents, The Secret of Chanel No 5:The Intimate History of the World's most Famous Perfume and learn the full story...

(European readers can find it here...)

Have a wonderful weekend... and do spoil yourself... we all deserve a little luxury from time to time...xv

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thinking about springtime in provence...

2012-01-20T23:30:00.000Z

image shot in our garden - carlacoulson vicki archer

exclusively for living4media

Springtime in Provence is heavenly... and it is quite possibly my favourite season. Although I do say that about every season... My friend Kit of the lovely blog Chic Provence is arranging another tour to Provence this spring... it sounds wonderful and the itinerary reads like the perfect way to spend time in Provence...

Friday... arrive from Paris and settle into a gorgeous villa in the Provencal countryside...

Saturday... the market in Apt and a tour of one of the oldest villages in the Luberon.. Oppede Le Vieux...

Sunday... L'Isle sur la Sorgue... one of the best flea markets in Provence... (and where I always find something fabulous to tempt me)...

Monday... Gordes and Roussillon... picturesque hilltop villages made famous by Peter Mayle in his very entertaining books...

Tuesday... Avignon and history ( great shopping too)...

Wednesday... St Remy de Provence market... my village... so look out for me..

Thursday... Mt Ventoux on bikes (electric which helps...) Another breathtaking area of Provence...

Friday... Back on the train and home... or a stay over in Paris... That could be an idea...

Kit this sounds so much fun, can I come?

Reading about Provence is something I spend a lot of time on... so... if you are in the mood I recommend this for facts, this for sentiment and this because it's pretty and one of my favourites... And if you are not too tired of what I have to say about Provence there is always this and this...

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white in the french kitchen... and 'le trousseau'...

2012-01-19T23:30:00.000Z

my favourite pillivuyt creamer

image - carla coulson vicki archer exclusively for living4media

Since writing about the conversation I overheard in the French restaurant and my recipe for magret de canard I have been thinking about the French kitchen and my kitchen in particular... As I wrote my methods and cooking instructions I imagined the utensils I needed to create this dish. I realised that I have been using the same cooking gear since I married and that I have had a love affair with white porcelain for as long. As I reflected on how I would serve my duck breast and mashed potato my first thought was to use our large sized Pillivuyt plates.

I started buying Pillivuyt long before I moved to France... I bought my first plates, pasta bowls and serving platters in Australia... they had been shipped from France to a local distributor... When we moved to Europe, over twelve years ago, I sent them back again... Crazy... all that time on the high seas. Ever since those early days I have been adding to my Pillivuyt collection... soufflé dishes, cups and saucers, bowls and breakfast cups... I am such a fan. It is hard wearing, versatile and the white porcelain makes most food look extra fabulous. I use the jugs for flowers or for juice and I use the large bowls for vegetables or salads. Setting the table is so easy because you can mix and match all the pieces together or add in a touch of antique porcelain for colour and style.

Then I thought about Le Creuset... I dare not admit this but my mother bought me Le Creuset for le trousseau... How old fashioned and funny is that... Can you believe that this tradition even existed? But she was insistent that I set up home in the right way... maybe she is to blame for my love of all things French... Either way the French affair is well and truly established and my Le Creuset pots are still going strong... At the age of 25 I didn't even know what a boeuf en daube was and now I couldn't imagine my French kitchen without my mother's Le Creuset...

All this reminiscing about my trousseau (yes, not only did it include pots, pans, kitchen knives, tea towels and porcelain but bed linen and blankets too...) made me sentimental... in a lovely way... I reflected on the history behind our possessions and how the most simple and basic of household goods can have so much meaning.

I have created a new category at SHOP FRENCH ESSENCE called 'The French Kitchen' and there you can browse through the Pillivuyt porcelain that I have collected, the Le Creuset that I couldn't live without, the knives that I use, the saucepans that are my favourites and the gadgets that make life easier... Perhaps I should have called it 'my trousseau'...

Did you have a trousseau? Or am I the only 'dinosaur' amongst us?

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cooking the 'just right' magret de canard...

2012-01-18T23:30:00.000Z

image - carla coulson and vicki archer exclusively for living4media

I am not a great cook... but somehow living in France for a large part of the year has made me up my game. It has been a subtle change over the years... the love of good food so evident in France has crept up on me. I can't say that I discuss food endlessly like the adorable couple in the restaurant on Monday but I do admit to thinking about recipes and fresh produce much more than I used to. I believe it is almost impossible to turn out a bad meal here if you stick to what is available in the local marché, boucheries, poissonneries and patisseries... They are specialists in their fields of expertise and these butchers, bakers and fishmongers are so happy to share information and advice ... when I am in need of inspiration, I ask them. As for deserts, I leave that to the pastry chefs... There is no way I can create something as fine and delicious as they can in the time I have available... Complicated deserts require delegation... for me, anyway...

When I cook I try and make it simple... mostly because I am either cooking for two or for a crowd, so either way non-complicated works best... Magret de canard or duck breasts... sounds less exciting translated... are an easy recipe (as long as you manage the cooking time) and are perfect winter or summer. In winter I serve them with a green vegetable and mashed potato and in summer, as a hot salad over a bed of fresh leaves...

Here is what I do...

*Pre-heat the oven to 180C about 30 minutes before required

when ready to cook

*Score the top of the duck breasts evenly in one direction with a sharp knife

*Rub the skin side of the duck breasts generously with Chinese 5 spice

*Heat well a char grill style skillet pan (normal frying pan will work if you don't have the cast iron grill pan but I highly recommend the Le Creuset... I use it so often...)

*Place the duck breasts skin down on the very hot char grill pan and let them cook for about 5 minutes at most ... don't worry if you have to do them in shifts... (siphon duck fat away from time to time while the skin is browning... conserve on the side if you want to make the most indulgent roast potatoes ever...)

*Once the duck breasts are seared well transfer them to a large baking dish skin side up

*Cover each duck breast with a dollop of apricot jam

*Place them in the pre-heated oven for 5-10 minutes depending on your cooking preference (I usually leave them about 7 minutes so they are pink in the middle)

*Remove the duck breasts and let them sit for 5 minutes

*Slice them with a very sharp knife on the angle

As the duck is rich I generally make a very simple écrasée de pommes de terre (mashed potato)... rather than butter I use olive oil with the addition of sea salt and pepper to taste.

Serve either buffet style on platters or individually on large plates... white is my preference... On each plate I place the slices of duck breast on top of the mashed potato and serve the green vegetable on the side... at this time of year I usually have spinach or green beans...

Try this recipe, it is so easy... If I can do it, so can you... and the flavours are delicious... the spice and the sweet flavours work very well together... If you want to browse the cookbooks that I have collected and have at home then click here... Another change in my life since moving to France... buying and reading cook books... Love them and can't resist... xv

(For European readers you can find everything here, here, here and here)

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overheard in the french restaurant...

2012-01-17T23:30:00.000Z

I do know that it is rude to eavesdrop... but sometimes it is impossible to resist...

It went something like this...

Mr FF and I were enjoying a quiet lunch in the village together... We sat down, said our 'bonjours' to the waitress, looked at the menu and ordered our lunch... That was about it... All pretty average when it comes to restaurant behaviour. He chose a steak and frites medium rare and I went for the pasta with pesto... All easy... Five minutes tops and we were sorted...

In comes a sweet older couple... They settle themselves into their table and reach for the menu. (I was facing them and as most French restaurants are a squeeze I couldn't help but overhear their conversation.)

The discussion started between them...

'What should I have today? I am not feeling that hungry but I must eat'... says Madame

'Of course'... replied Monsieur... 'You must keep up your strength.'

'Do you think I should have the magret de canard or the entrecote?' Madame asks...

Why don't you have the magret and I will have the entrecote? Monsieur replies diplomatically...

'I am very worried about the cuisson?' 'I like my duck breast pink, not rare and not overcooked... if it is not prepared like that it is impossible...' (You need to imagine a very, very serious face here... expressions that would indicate life or death in any other country...)

Pragmatic as ever, Monsieur suggests they call over the waitress to discuss the preparation and cooking time of the duck... (Waiters and waitresses are expected to be in the know as well as on the job in France... Lucky for Madame, she was...)

In the meantime we have received our drinks and started on our assiettes while the other couple are still discussing the merits of the menu... All the while I am relaying their conversation to Mr FF... it still amuses and delights us that the French can spend so long discussing the intricacies of a single meal... The world could be falling apart ( the euro is) but nothing will detract a Frenchman or woman from his/her stomach...

The waitress arrives at their table to take the order...

Madame, in a very concerned tone, says that she would very much like the magret de canard, it is just the thing to stimulate her poor appetite, but needs assurance that the cooking will be just to her liking. They debate the merits of rare v's pink and the disgrace of an overcooked duck breast. The waitress is entirely happy with this conversation (not a sign of impatience on her behalf) and guarantees that the chef can master this task. Monsieur decides on the entrecote as planned and furnishes his cooking instructions for the chef...

We are just about on last bites at this stage...

Next thing... just when I am thinking that all the food chat is finished... Madame takes out her mobile phone, dials and relays the duck drama to her friend on the other end. They now toss back and forth between them how a duck breast should be cooked. (I am thinking they both must be pretty expert in the kitchen...)They question whether Madame is going to manage to have it just to her liking and if it is, or is not, a good choice for lunch. At the same time Madame tells her friend to hold on so that she can relay to Monsieur all that they have discussed... (He is seriously interested and doesn't want to miss out on a word...)

I am translating rapidly to Mr FF, trying not to laugh and still amazed that they could talk about a duck breast for a good 40 minutes or more... The French talk food like I can talk fashion... without drawing breath... Even more amused, I listened as Madame told her friend what delectables were on the desert list. Remember, she was not that hungry... having a sensitive appetite... so they decided that a small tranche of tart would be her safest option... Her friend then proceeded to discuss her lunch options... she was going to pass on desert... Monsieur and Madame weren't having any of that and tried to convince her of a sweet finish... After all, it is of the utmost importance to finish a meal well... balance of flavours and all that... or so they said...

By the time Mr FF finished his espresso... their meals arrived... Madame took the first bite of her over-discussed-but-not-over-cooked duck breast and to my great relief (and the waitress and the chef)... she smiled...

I could only leave the restaurant and in true Julia Child fashion... say Bon Appetit... xv

(European readers can find Julia Child here)

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what is it about the french and graffiti?...

2012-01-16T23:30:00.000Z

Do the French love graffiti? Are they artists or are they just vandals in disguise? As we sped along the autoroute on our way home from Switzerland, I started to notice that nearly every wall, agricultural building or abandoned farmhouse was covered with graffiti... There didn't seem to be a message or great artistic value to the work... but rather a feeling that a blank wall must be filled. Quelle horreur to let the countryside slumber in peace... It was as if we were on the outskirts of Paris not in the languid reaches of Provence. Don't misunderstand... I love a well executed wall of graffiti and admire it as much as any work of art but gratuitous graffiti... I just don't get it. Graffiti, according to Wikipedia, is writings or drawings painted, scratched or drawn illicitly on a wall. It has been around since ancient times and there are examples dating back to the Ancient Greeks and Romans... Now I understand... As Provence has Greek and Roman beginnings... it must be genetic!

The trompe l'oeil, the first image, is one of several painted illusions on a wall near to the Palais des Papes in Avignon... I do like this because the image is clever and matches the atmosphere of it's location. Would it be classified as graffiti?...If it were painted without authorisation, then I guess it would be...

The 'dancing girl' lives on a garage door in Arles opposite the Roman amphitheatre... I like her... The contrast between the old world and our modern world is never more obvious...

And the third image... 'Sorry for your wall'... is our little house in the historic centre of St Remy de Provence. Mr FF found this little jewel box last year and we have great plans for it... More about that when we have the alterations approved by the local council... but fingers crossed, our renovations can commence early this year. Am I upset that someone has taken a spray gun to our walls... Not as yet, because work hasn't started and the walls will have to be re-painted in any case. I like to think that the 'artist' has some empathy and understood that the house is in transition... I may be less generous with my thoughts if it happens on a regular basis. At least they apologised...

If you have a taste for graffiti then you must check out this and for wonderful examples of trompe l'oeil I recommend this... and for how to... this... (European readers can find these books here and here )

Art, always a matter of opinion... Do you love a splash of graffiti? xv

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the luxury of being home...

2012-01-15T23:30:00.000Z

image - carla coulson and vicki archer

exclusively for living4media

There is nothing quite like home after a week away... it is the best isn't it? I can't wait... I have been thinking about all the simple little luxuries (and necessities) that I am going to indulge in...

Firstly, take a long bath (maybe three) and soak my tired muscles in this...

Secondly, treat my wind blown skin to a good exfoliation...

Thirdly, Apply more than one of my favourite masks...

Fourth, lather myself in the best body creme ever

Fifth, paint my nails (they are a serious embarrassment)

Sixth, light a scented candle or two... Gardenia I think...

and

Read, read and then read some more... I have a real hankering to re-read Birdsong and Charlotte Gray by Sebastian Faulks... A pair of my very favourite French wartime novels... Birdsong in particular is a book I have read many time but it haunts me none the less after each reading...

(European readers can find these here and here)

and if I can find a copy of Noel Barber's A Farewell to France amongst our books... a French saga set during the Second World War... another novel I love but haven't read for some time...

I am in the mood for some French historical fiction...

(European readers can find an old copy here)

and

I am desperate to watch a film or two... Stretch out on the sofa with a cup of something soothing and be transported for a few hours... I am thinking something corny like French Kiss and something extraordinary like Ma Vie en Rose...

(European readers can find them here and here)

Enjoy... I know I will... xv

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the view from the top...

2012-01-14T05:55:00.000Z

I didn't know that the Matterhorn has an elevation of 4478 metres

That the word 'matterhorn' comes from the German words meaning 'meadow' and 'peak'

That the first ascent was on July14, 1865

That the Matterhorn is the 10th highest mountain in Switzerland

That the four faces of the Matterhorn face north, south, east and west

My first experience of the Matterhorn was riding the bobsleds at Disneyland Anaheim... and my first knowledge of Switzerland came from Heidi... one of my most loved childhood stories...As good as that was, nothing beats the real thing... Have a brilliant weekend... xv

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what's happening off the ski slopes...

2012-01-12T20:11:00.000Z

Snaps from my afternoon promenade... wish you were here... it's a lot of fun...

Zermatt, Switzerland

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when chocolate is the only answer...

2012-01-12T06:34:00.000Z

There is nothing like a petit reward at the end of a hard day's skiing... If nothing else I felt it was so well deserved... Day 2 and still smiling... Superb weather, glorious views all day of the Matterhorn, thighs that lasted the distance and knees that bent when they were meant too... All rather remarkable really... I don't surprise myself that often yet today was one of those days... That doesn't mean to say that my legs aren't aching and that my calf muscles aren't like knots in cotton... tied up so tightly they might never relax... and that it won't go horribly wrong Day 3... my tentativeness about skiing will never ease... of that I am sure...

So on to the reward... I felt as if I deserved one after such an outstanding day... As I am in the land of cuckoo clocks, fondue and chocolate... it wasn't a hard choice... chocolate and lots of chocolate... Big fat slabs of chocolate, dark and white, with roasted hazelnuts generously scattered throughout... bliss, heaven, delectable divineness... just so good... The Swiss, I have to admit, make pretty fine chocolate... and as loyal as I am to all things French... this chocolate taste sensation was up there with the best...

For me there is something about skiing and chocolate that go hand and hand. It could be the mountains... all that clean air makes you hungry and crave an energy boost... It might also be that those Swiss 'scenic' chocolate boxes have indelibly linked in my mind the idea that snow and mountains equals chocolate... It doesn't matter... I am happy in this relationship... as long as we part company when the skiing is over...

Note to self... No Swiss chocolate to go... xv

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dressed for style not for comfort... not exactly...

2012-01-10T23:30:00.000Z

Some would say that I don't learn from my mistakes and others might say that I love a challenge... but for whatever reason I am back on those slippery white slopes again... Day 1 and I survived... no crashes and no crying... I call that a triumph... Don't you?

I have had a long soak in the bath since all that schussing and now I can move my frozen fingers and I can walk without an obvious swagger... Yet, compared to my last time in the winter wonderland, I'm feeling a whole lot better...You might ask why do I do this to myself when I am obviously not a gifted sports woman?... There is no need for me to be coy here... one look at my sporting prowess in this arena and you would know that the fast paced moving stuff is not my forte... I console myself with the thought that I can try and excel in the finer art of aprés skiing... The reason I persevere, dress up in ridiculous clothing and hurtle down mountains at alarming speed is that I live with a passionate bunch of skiers... They all love it and worse still... they are really good at it..

Today, bright and early I was ready. Did I mention that not only am I the slowest on the slopes but I am the slowest off the slopes. I decided that this year I would refuse that honour... All gear checked and accounted for the night before... I was not the one they would be waiting for... I had my leggings, ski pants, ski socks, (dare I admit.. knee guards... oh yes... they work a treat) thermal tee shirt, fleece, neck warmer and ski jacket on in record time... The ski pass, tissues, glasses, area map, a little cash and a lot of sunscreen were strategically placed in the pockets of my favourite jacket. Helmet, goggles and mittens were ready and waiting... you can see that I am telling the truth by my photograph... I was seriously race-ready at the appointed time... I could tell that my gang were all impressed... I am even expert in doing up the clonky ski boots without breaking all of my fingernails and asking for help... All in all a perfect start to the week... Except... As I leant down to clip the last buckle and fasten the boot straps the zipper to my ski jacket broke... and like the walls of Jericho.. it all came tumbling down... I needed to change and fast... That meant a dash back upstairs to the apartment, a quick empty of the pockets (after all that careful planning) and a new jacket... In record time I threw on another parker, re-stuffed the pockets with the bare necessities and hightailed it to the ski lift... I made it... not first but not last... I felt pretty good about that... A successful turnaround... Except for one small detail... the new jacket... it was more about style than performance... I should have been wearing this and this... Let's just say that I have had a mighty chilly ( could say frozen) first day on the slopes... but there is no way I am telling my ski pals that... xv

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have I mentioned this one... the paris wife...

2012-01-08T23:30:00.000Z

I am still reading... The Paris Wife by Paula McLain...
(European readers can find it here...)

'A deeply evocative story of ambition and betrayal, The Paris Wife captures a remarkable period of time and a love affair between two unforgettable people: Ernest Hemingway and his wife Hadley.

Chicago, 1920: Hadley Richardson is a quiet twenty-eight-year-old who has all but given up on love and happiness—until she meets Ernest Hemingway and her life changes forever. Following a whirlwind courtship and wedding, the pair set sail for Paris, where they become the golden couple in a lively and volatile group—the fabled “Lost Generation”—that includes Gertrude Stein, Ezra Pound, and F. Scott and Zelda Fitzgerald.

Though deeply in love, the Hemingways are ill prepared for the hard-drinking and fast-living life of Jazz Age Paris, which hardly values traditional notions of family and monogamy. Surrounded by beautiful women and competing egos, Ernest struggles to find the voice that will earn him a place in history, pouring all the richness and intensity of his life with Hadley and their circle of friends into the novel that will become The Sun Also Rises. Hadley, meanwhile, strives to hold on to her sense of self as the demands of life with Ernest grow costly and her roles as wife, friend, and muse become more challenging. Despite their extraordinary bond, they eventually find themselves facing the ultimate crisis of their marriage—a deception that will lead to the unraveling of everything they’ve fought so hard for.'

I thought you might like this one... I couldn't put it down... xv

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favourite french stories...

2012-01-06T23:30:00.000Z

I don't know about you but I am still feeling in the holiday mood... aka... I am feeling a little lazy... I can't quite get myself back into the work mode and do those things that should and need to be done. Perhaps it is because life is still in 'slow mo' in my part of the world or perhaps it is because I haven't taken down my Christmas decorations as yet... I always feel that the house looks so sad when they disappear... who knows... but truthfully, I am loving this relaxed pace... because it can't last...

What have I been doing? Reading... and re-reading all my favourite French memoir style books... If you are in the mood, like me, for some Francophilia... I suggest...

French Toast

Lunch in Paris: A Love Story

Almost French: Love and a New Life in Paris

Carol Drinkwater Olive Trilogy

(European readers can find them here, here, here and here)

These are just some of my favourites... I love their easy pace... they require nothing more than a smile and a sigh from time to time... No mental calisthenics or mind bending philosophies... just easy light reading on a subject I hold dear... France...

Perfect for the weekend... so perfect to maintain that holiday mood...xv

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paris... portrait of a city...

2012-01-05T23:30:00.000Z

There is a new book on the block from Taschen for all of us who love Paris... Portrait of a City.

This book brings together the past and the present, the monumental and the everyday, objects and people. Images captured by the most illustrious photographers – Daguerre, Marville, Atget, Lartigue, Brassaï, Kertész, Ronis, Doisneau, Cartier-Bresson and many more – but also by many unknown photographers, attempt to bottle just a little of that “Parisian air”, something of that particular poetry given out by the stones and inhabitants of a constantly changing city that has inspired untold numbers of writers and artists over the ages.

I am a big fan of any publication by Taschen so I have ordered my copy here... US and Canadian readers can pre-order here...

If you can't wait for Portrait of a City and are in need of a Paris fix... This is one of my other very favourites... Taschen's Paris... I never take a trip to Paris without a quick flick through their recommendations...

Armchair travel... Sometimes I think it's the best way to fly.... xv

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image - frank horvat

rules of the boules...

2012-01-04T23:30:00.000Z

Pétanque or boules as this game is often called is pretty much a French national sport... and a particular favourite in southern France...It is a little like lawn bowling only the playing takes place beneath plane trees, on a gravel surface and often with a glass of pastis in the hand... so no clipped grass, precision courts, white uniforms or jaunty little hats for the French... it is casual relaxed plus beret..

The aim of the game is easy... to throw your boules as close to the target as possible. The target is called a jack or in French, the cochonet or coche... so knocking the opposition boules out of the way is the other main objective...

Games can be singles, doubles or triples... one against one or in teams... Single and double players have 3 boules each... triples have two...

The end is when all the boules have been thrown. Scoring is easy... A point is scored for each boule closest to the coche... The first to 13 points wins the game...

(Note... stance of players... very important to stand with legs apart and hands behind the back...)

Competition boules are about 80 mn in diameter and weigh around 800 gm... They are stamped with an individual code and must be used for official games. They have varying grooved patterns that make them easily distinguishable when playing... I collect the old wooden ones... they might not be regulation these days but their patina is far prettier...

(Note... concentration and serious watching... as he lines up for the throw )

A coin toss decides which team has first throw...

The first person to play from the winning team draws a circle in the gravel as their starting point... usually about 50cm in diameter... then the coche is thrown around 10 metres in any direction as long as it's not too close to the boundaries of the playing area. If the coche comes up short there are two more chances to throw... Failing that the other team takes over...

Standing within the circle... the first boule is thrown... A lob with palm facing down is the natural way as the player tries and gets as close as possible to the cloche...

(Note... mid throw with left leg action... his companions still haven't moved...)

Next the other team throw, from within the circle and they must decide whether to try and hit the first boule out of the way or to simply aim closer to the coche... After the two throws it must be decided which boule is closest to the coche... this is where a lot of 'discussion' comes in... The next player to throw is one from the team furtherest from the coche... They continue to throw and get closer to the coche until they have no boules left. Once they are out... the other team throw their remaining boules... If the coche gets moved during the game... the boules must be re-measured to check who is closer... and who should lead...

When all the boules have been thrown, the first game is over and points are tallied... the games continue until the 13 points have been made...

(Note... time to check the throw change players and stretch the legs...)

Did you get all that?? My game is a little less exact... I swap the beret for a sun hat and the pastis for a rosé... as for the scoring... and the measuring... that is where the artistic license comes in... xv

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the quiet week in provence...

2012-01-03T20:36:00.000Z

The week between Christmas and New Year is the week I call 'the quiet week'. It is the one week of the year when the world seems to slow down, turn off and take a long deep breath. The phone stops buzzing, the emails aren't flashing and there is time... time to indulge, reflect and just be. 'Being' is not something that we can all do very often... it is the greatest luxury of all.

The mornings have been frosty in my corner of Provence... and quiet. As snow muffles the everyday sounds so does frost. Frost, hand in hand with the mist, lends an ethereal atmosphere to the countryside and makes it impossible to be anything but tranquil... except for the occasional shot from the hunters up in the mountains... and even those pops in the stillness become customary and can't alter my reverie.

I have enjoyed this 'quiet' week at our farm 'being' with my family and friends... walking, reading, watching movies... chatting about everything and nothing. Over indulging the 'gourmet' side of life and minimising my 'technical' addictions. Waking up each day and not having a major list of must 'do' items must be one of the best feelings in the world...

Santa, clever old guy that he is, managed to deliver Frozen Planet to Provence and this 'quiet' week has been a visual treat for us. This series, narrated by David Attenborough is not to be missed... we have been enthralled and I will watch it over and over... New Year's resolution... a trip to the frozen world. It might not be this year ... but I have promised myself one day... (European readers can buy it now from Amazon ... If you live in the US or Canada you will have to pre-order... but it is so worth the wait... )

Reading has been our other pastime... Santa..... even cleverer that ever... delivered Kindles to the kiddies and they were a huge hit... Stieg Larsson's Millennium Trilogy has proved to be the favourite... if you haven't read these books... start now... gripping and impossible to put down.. That is the thing about the 'quiet' week... reading and watching what you want... relaxing the mind and escaping to a place of your choice... I have been devouring some coffee table books from my wish list... J'aime Paris by Alain Ducasse... his 'where to' places in Paris and Historic Houses of Paris... both brilliant...
(European readers can find them here and here...)

And the other pastime in this 'quiet' week... a visit to the local Roman site of Glanum... Can you see why I am so in love with this part of France? Quite beautiful I think.... Happy, happy New Year... xv

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merry christmas from french essence...

2012-01-01T19:15:00.000Z

As 2011 races towards the finish line and I reflect on the year that has almost been... I remember wishful thinking last year for contentment. I wanted to appreciate what was in front of me, around me and beside me. I wanted to work hard but strive for less. I wanted to breathe, to pause for a moment and to enjoy what I have... not what could or might come my way. I think I have.

This coming year I am thinking that I want to 'be in the moment'. That means that I want to enjoy what I am doing when I am doing it. I want to give my full attention to the task at hand... it is so easy to loose focus, to be anywhere but in that particular moment. I don't want to be reading my emails when I am writing, checking my phone when I am talking to a friend or thinking about business when it's time for pleasure. It is easier said than done, like all resolutions, but I'm going to try.

2011 has been my favourite year at French Essence. We are old friends now, familiar souls together with a love of France and all things French. Blogging is such a 'clunky' word for what I consider to be meaningful time spent together... it might be virtual, but it is real. Important friendships have been made and I hope they will continue to thrive in the coming year...

I have come to understand that a blog is only enduring and successful because of its readers. It doesn't matter how clever, how pretty, how smart or how often... a blog lives and breathes for its readers. You are the reason I continue to write... How can there be so much to say about so little? I ask myself this over and over, yet I read a comment or an email from you and it sparks an idea. Your comments and emails bring life, creativity and reason to French Essence... Thank you one million times and more... Next year, after a short break, I will be back with French Essence but for now I am going to enjoy... no indulge in... this Christmas moment... I wish you all a Joyeux Noël and I hope with all my heart that all your wishes and dreams come true...

I leave you with some links to your favourite posts of mine this year... in case you feel like a little French Essence in my absence...

What is it about Paris?

Beauty Must Haves for Holiday Survival

De-cluttering the Wardrobe

Beauty Essentials of the Make-Up Kind

The Top Ten Essentials for an Inner Joie de vivre

The Top Ten Beauty Essentials

The Top Ten Wardrobe Essentials

The Extras that go with the Top Ten Wardrobe Essentials

The French Girl's Suitcase

The French Diet

How much Make-Up is too much? What would a French girl say?

French Women and their Lingerie

The French Farmhouse

Merry Christmas from my home to yours... See you in 2012... much love, Vicki xv

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christmas candlelight...

2011-12-22T21:10:00.000Z

images - carla coulson exclusively for living4media

There is nothing like the ambience that candlelight can create... It is impossible to go wrong with candles... there can never be too many, they can't be arranged badly and they are always available. As much as I adore flowers and for me, candles and flowers are the most magical combination, the arrangement, the cost and the time needed for beautiful flowers is far greater. This Christmas I am going overboard with tealights (to counteract the disastrous LEDs)... inside and outside... Lighting the candles is the longest part but once that's done... the evening is set... and besides... everything looks prettier in candlelight...

Three more sleeps... Christmas wrapping for me today... Happy Thursday... xv

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deck the halls... today's job...

2011-12-21T23:30:00.000Z

image - vicki archer

Not with 'boughs of holly' but branches of oak... that's what I have been doing since the early hours... Traditionally I wrap the staircases in olive branches but because I love change... the curse of someone who loves houses and decorating... I decided to try the oak leaves instead... So far I am thinking it is going to look very country like and festive when I have finished...

On the other hand not all change is a winner. This year I swapped all my fairy lights for new ones... obviously I didn't think about the colour of LEDs... Our beautiful Christmas tree, instead of twinkling with a subtle glow is a full on blue/white light show... It's all too late now, I should have tested the lights before I put on all the decorations.... a smart person would do that... Right? The upside is that the tree is very pretty during the day and we will just have to wear shades at night...

This afternoon when I have five seconds to spare I am going to download Sleeping with Paris, by Juliette Sobanet on my new Kindle (early Christmas present... I think we all need a little pre-Christmas spoiling... ) I have just read great things about this delicious and cheeky read... and I think this might be the perfect way to relax for an hour or so... a little Paris and a little girl chat... sounds good to me...

Enjoy your Wednesday... xv

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what's on my french christmas menu...

2011-12-21T07:09:00.000Z

image - vicki archer

I am thinking about the Christmas menu... There is not a whole lot of new to think of because our family is very conventional when it comes to the turkey and cranberry sauce feast... The only exception is that we add a few French traditions on top...

In a perfect world I am hoping it will run something like this...

smoked salmon and creme fraiche baby blinis topped with fresh dill

freshly shucked oysters with a dash of shallot vinaigrette

fois gras and champagne jelly on toasted Poilane bread
bite size fruit mince pies... just warm

***

roast turkey with chestnut stuffing

chipolatas (if I can find them)

seared duck breast with an apricot glaze

brussel sprouts with pancetta and fresh sage

sauté carrots and parsnips with a touch of lavender honey

oven roasted potatoes

gravy and cranberry sauce to accompany

***

flaming plum pudding

brandy sauce and brandy butter

home made vanilla ice cream

bûche de noël

***

glacé fruit from our local confiseur Lilimand

chocolates from the lovely Joel Durand

***

Reading back it looks highly ambitious... but I've done it before and I am sure I can do it again... As soon as I finish decorating and wrapping ... the food shopping is my plan...

Ready, set, go... 5 more days... xv

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