A year ago on this day we had just returned from nearly three weeks in France. One of the first cultural readjustments I had in coming home was noise. Even in the heart of Paris, France was quieter. In the cities of the south, we could hear the birds sing. At home in northern Michigan, on my “quiet” residential street, this is the current situation (and it gets far worse when lawn equipment is in operation):
It doesn’t have to be this bad, and next week is the 25th anniversary of the event that encourages folks to consider other options. Smart Commute Week was started as Bike to Work Week by my terrific neighbor to celebrate and encourage folks to think outside the metal box. Car-centered transportation is damanging our personal health and the planet. We desperately need to dial it down.
This is usually the point in the conversation where people chime in with their reasons for driving. I get it. Some of you have no alternatives, due to your job requirements or locations. Smart Commute provides a nudge for those who do have some flexibility. In my neighborhood, those who work downtown could probably walk there in less time than it takes to drive and find a parking spot. And next week, they can even get a free breakfast!
I’m excited because I’ve been participating for 20 years and this is the first time I’ve had a work team for the Smart Commute Challenge. I persuaded the crew at Brilliant Books to join me, and everyone who could reasonably do it gladly accepted. My coworkers care as much about this beautiful place we’re fortunate to call home as they care about books, and those who will be taking the bus also know that’s a great place to read. Those who aren’t in a position to ditch the car are our cheerleaders, and our boss (who likes to ride the bus) is so supportive he’s already talking about doing more next year. What a fabulous team! They’re Brilliant!
To everyone out there, no matter how you get around, my wish is that you’ll graciously share the road. We’re all human, prone to mistakes, and maybe sometimes we stray from our lane or don’t yield the right of way. Everyone wants to get there safely. Can’t we figure out how to make that happen?
First, apologies for the two-week delay in bringing you part two of the Centre-Val de Loire region. Real work forced this project to the sidelines. But now we can relax with a glass of very good wine.
This week’s video.
France is, by many assessments, the greatest wine producing country in the world, and the Loire Valley is one of its most lauded regions. It may not have quite the fame of Bordeaux or Burgundy, but that may have more to do with its diversity of viniculture. (No one says, “I’ll have a bottle of Loire.”)
This mind-boggling diversity makes me want to throw up my hands and acknowledge that the only possible way to get to know Loire wines is to go there for a very long time and tour the vineyards. Preferably on a bicycle. And there are many tour companies that will take you there.
I’m a wine drinker, not a wine expert. I’m still learning about wine, and I’ll undoubtedly say that 50 years from now, if I live that long. Is it possible to stop learning about wine? Just dipping one’s toe into this region of France makes the pleasurable task of wine exploration seem like a journey that will never end.
Wine is not a ladder to climb, as we’re so often taught. Not even close. Wine is a maze, a labyrinth, one we gladly enter, embracing the fact that we don’t know where it will take us and that we’ll never likely find our way out.
Jason Wilson, in Godforsaken Grapes: A Slightly Tipsy Journey Through the World of Strange, Obscure, and Underappreciated Wine
One area in which I do have expertise is research (former research director -not of anything wine-related, but skills are skills). And I can recommend an excellent, user-friendly and comprehensive guide in English to the wonders of Loire Valley grapes. If you want to learn more about wine, you will not regret bookmarking the Wine Folly site. The book is also nice to have on hand.
Now, shall we open a bottle and find something to eat with it?
Fortunately, my neighborhood wine shop – which specializes in French wines and is a mere two blocks walk from my house – has a nice selection from the Loire Valley. An entire shelving unit is devoted to the region, nearly the same amount of store real estate given to Burgundy.
The Loire Valley section at Bon Vin
This past weekend’s free tasting included this delicious sauvignon blanc, which came home with me.
Val de Loire Sauvignon Blanc
And one of my favorites at last week’s mega-testing was a red Loire Valley wine.
What might you eat with one of these excellent wines if you were in the Loire Valley. Recall that this region is known as “the garden of France.” Apple and pear orchards are plentiful, as well as market gardens. Hunting was the lure that drew the French aristocracy to the valley, and game is still on the menu.
I was intrigued by a recipe for eggs poached in an herbed red wine sauce, mostly because of its name. Oeufs à la couille d’âne translates to “eggs with donkey’s balls.” I can’t explain. It has something to do with the color of the finished dish. No donkey parts of any kind are present.
Another simple recipe featuring something cooked in an herb-infused liquid- this time milk – comes from Patricia Wells in her Bistro Cooking.
Enjoy!
Pommes de Terre Solognotes
Ingredients:
2 cups milk
1/2 cup minced fresh herbs (tarragon, thyme, parsley, chives)
2 bay leaves
5 whole black peppercorns
2 pounds baking potatoes, peeled and thinly sliced
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
1 garlic clove, halved
1/2 cup crème fraîche or heavy cream
1 tsp fresh thyme or 1/2 tsp dried
1 cup freshly grated French or Swiss gruyère cheese
Directions:
1.Preheat the oven to 375F. 2. Combine the milk, the mixed herbs, bay leaves, and peppercorns in a saucepan. Cover and scald over medium-high heat. Remove from the heat and let steep, covered, for 10 minutes. Strain the milk into a large saucepan, discarding the herbs and peppercorns. 3. Add the potatoes to the strained milk. Cover and cook until the potatoes are tender, about 15 minutes. Season with salt and pepper to taste; set aside. 4. Rub the inside of an oval porcelain gratin dish with the garlic. Spoon the potato mixture into the dish. Dot with the crème fraîche and sprinkle with the thyme. 5. Bake until the gratin is golden, about 45 minutes. Remove the gratin dish from the oven, and sprinkle with the grated cheese. Return to the oven and bake until the top is very crisp and golden, about 15 more minutes. Serve immediately.
Before you read our blog post, please take a moment to read this news about biodiversity. It’s far more important than anything we have to say.
This week and next, our pretend tour de France takes us to the Centre-Val de Loire region, otherwise known as the upper Loire Valley. This area southwest of Paris is the France of picture books and legends. And we are “visiting” at a significant anniversary.
This week’s video
Unlike many other regions, the Centre Val-de-Loire region is not a historic province; it is, as its name perhaps implies, the heart of historic France, the area between the Paris region and the Loire valley that was for many centuries the centre of the kingdom of France – at times when the territory which is today known as France was divided among the kingdoms or duchies of Normandy, Burgundy, Aquitaine, Anjou and others less important. In this respect, the regions of the Centre and the Ile de France are France.
Blois. By Wmeinhart (talk · contribs) – Own work, CC BY-SA 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=212108
Most of the region’s claim to fame was established during the Renaissance, when French kings brought their courts from Paris to get away from it all. Yeah, even back then that was a thing. The nobility and hangers-on who accompanied the court built elaborate chateaux, or castles, that make the Loire Valley one of France’s most popular destinations.
The Loire Valley has so many chateaux that you would probably need many years, if not a lifetime, to adequately visit them all. But if you want to try, right now is the perfect time to get started.
One of our favorite movies fictionalizes Leonardo’s time in France. Ever After, a somewhat feminist retelling of the Cinderella story starring Drew Barrymore, has Leonardo in the role of the fairy godmother. It was filmed in the Dordogne, not the Loire, and there is no historical evidence that Leonardo performed any matchmaking services while in France, but it is still a delightful film.
If you want to read a biography of the greatest of Renaissance men, Walter Isaacson’s best-selling Leonardo da Vinci is now in paperback.
A book I read and re-read every time I need a little inspiration to get myself properly aligned with the universe is French Women Don’t Get Fat by Mireille Guiliano. Thinking of it as a diet-advice book misses its usefulness as an exercise in practical philosophy. The book is really about breaking free of the “diet” trap and embracing the pleasure of a proper meal, accompanied with a glass of wine or champagne.
Guiliano is a French woman who has lived most of her adult life in the United States. Before writing the book, she was president and CEO of Cliquot, Inc., the U.S. branch of the renowned champagne house. In New York, she writes, “my business requires me to eat in restaurants about three hundred times a year.” She is well-positioned to contrast the French way of eating with the American one.
While Guiliano obviously endorses French dietary practices, she doesn’t chastise Americans for succumbing to snack foods and oversized portions. She’s been there, done that, and she recovered with the help of some sensible French advisors, notably a family physician she calls “Dr. Miracle.”
Guiliano is not a nutritionist and she doesn’t pretend to present a medically-endorsed health plan. Most of the book is about how to eat, how to savor food and find pleasure in mealtime, with modest portions. She emphasizes quality, which makes excessive quantity superfluous.
Aside from a few recipes , the only content that resembles a “plan” in the usual pattern of the diet book genre is a recommendation for a phase Guiliano calls “recasting.” That process begins with three weeks of journaling and then a weekend mini-fast, eating only boiled leeks and their cooking liquid. In this, my fourth reading of the book, I’m trying the “Magical Leek Soup” kick start for the first time. After a severe winter that derailed some of my good French practices, I need an extra boost. So this is what I’ve been eating all day, and continuing through tomorrow.
There is indeed something magical about it, and it goes to the heart of the French food philosophy. At breakfast, the boiled leek was decidedly inferior to my usual toast and egg. At midday, it was a remedy for hunger. But at dinner, every bite was delicious as my palate had attuned to the pure taste of a simple vegetable simply cooked.
Still, I’ll be happy to enjoy a more substantial dinner tomorrow, and a glass or two of wine this weekend.
Americans have long entertained a mythology regarding the French and their dietary habits: our Gallic friends enjoy robust health and svelte figures, despite their addiction to cheese and cigarettes.
I was watching 60 Minutes that night in 1991 when Morley Safer shared what may have been the most welcome news ever in the history of health reporting. His iconic report called “The French Paradox” credited red wine as the French secret weapon in keeping heart disease at bay while feasting on foie gras and butter. Oui! Sign me up, said 99% of viewers. Maybe even vegans were intrigued.
Some context for those too young to remember the culture in which this report landed. America’s obesity epidemic was in its infancy (11.1% of adults in 1990 compared to 30.6% in 2017), and dietary fat was public enemy number one. Dr. Dean Ornish‘s prescription for reversing heart disease cast as arch-villain the saturated fat from animal products; his book was a best-seller. Americans were being nagged to ditch the bacon and eggs in favor of rice cakes and oatmeal. Fat-free manufactured “foods” such as Snackwells were entering the market.
So here came the French and their food-loving ways, with copious amounts of red wine washing it all down. Maybe that steak was no longer off limits if it came with a bottle of cabernet sauvignon.
Wine from Corbières
As the old adage goes, if something seems too good to be true, it probably is. While wine sales surged in the wake of such positive press, so did American waistlines. Was it possible that a glass or two of red wine could not counteract the effects of camping in front of the T.V. every night with a bag of Doritos and Cheez Whiz? Color me shocked.
Unfortunately, follow-up stories detailing the entirety of the French way of eating did not attract as much notice. As it turns out, French and American dietary patterns differ in other ways that may be more significant. I’ve read about these differences, mostly in the best-selling French Women Don’t Get Fat advice book by the delightful champagne goddess Mireille Guiliano. (Stay tuned for more on the book, next post). And a year ago, I had the opportunity to see for myself.
Last May, I took my second trip to France. My first journey was in 1987 when I was young and concerned with nothing beyond adventure and romance. This time, I was worried my middle-aged flab would earn me jeers from the trim and fashionable French. But if the French were disdainful of my plump figure, they concealed their scorn well; every person we encountered treated us with generosity and warmth, even in Paris.
I was ever so observant to the French manners with food. I saw first-hand some of the practices I had read about, and when I returned home, I put as many into action as possible. This resulted in a 20-lb. weight loss in six months and improvement in all key health markers at my annual physical.
So what are those French ways I observed? Check out this slideshow I made for you!
French people don’t eat between meals, and meal times are strict compared to the U.S. In the south of France, we learned quickly that we needed to get lunch at noon, or soon after. Most restaurants stopped serving at 2 p.m. and didn’t reopen for dinner until 7 p.m. Drinks could be enjoyed at bistros in the late afternoon, but typically without food.
The French sit down to eat and drink, and they take their time. Want a coffee? Find a table, place your order with the waiter, and enjoy that tiny little cup for an hour if you’d like. But under no circumstances do you get it “to go.” Never did we see a French person walking with a beverage or an ice cream cone.
The French socialize while eating. They talk to each other – or at least their dog – instead of texting or watching television.
Portions are smaller than in the U.S. The servings are enough, not too much.
The French don’t make large grocery runs. Admittedly, we didn’t pass a Costco. But at the markets we visited, we saw people purchasing only what they could carry home in one bag, or often, a small pull-trolley. And in the grocery markets, shopping carts also tend to be petite.
Farmers’ markets abound. Larger cities have daily markets; smaller villages have market days. Produce, artisan cheeses, fresh-baked breads and quality proteins are readily accessible. By French law, a standard baguette can cost no more than one euro. That explains why one is sticking out of nearly every shopping bag in France!
The French walk it off. This is a function of design. European cities were built for people, not cars. It’s much easier to exercise when physical movement is necessary to accomplish daily chores.
Some of the French practices may seem daunting, even impossible to follow here. None of our businesses close for two hours at midday so employees can enjoy a leisurely meal. Food and drink “to go” is so central to our culture that cup-holders are standard equipment for cars. Work and social expectations have us checking our phones even when we do manage to dine with friends. Restaurants respond to customer demand for value with supersized portions. Most people live too far from a grocery to walk, and with long work hours and commute times, “stocking up” once a week seems the only viable option. And despite the popularity of farmers’ markets, many people (ironically, sometimes in rural areas) don’t have access to one.
But most of us can find one good practice to try. In my community, at least 150 people are committing to walk 100 miles this month in solidarity with our favorite butcher, who has started walking his way back from health problems. Norte, a local bike advocacy group that organizes all things awesome, has partnered with the equally awesome Mark to commandeer a support group around a fun, healthy activity. So, if you’re in the area, and even if you’re not (non-locals are welcome), lace up those sneakers. And if you want to celebrate the end comme les francais with a steak and a glass of wine, well, I think you’ll know where to get it.
Tomorrow: Do French women really not get fat? Let’s talk about it!
