I knew it was going to be an awesome day.
Not waking up to the sound of a rooster is a wonderful thing. I had been forewarned about the rooster and his sleep destroying capabilities. I had weighed the risk of lack of sleep against the chance to stay on a winery in Provence during vendage. It was a long and torturous dilemma, but in the long run a few days at Clos de Caveau in Vacqueyras with Paula won out.
And so, I opened my eyes to a perfectly blue Provencal September sky, with no sign of the rooster. He was, it seemed, missing in action. So sad. There was, however a whooshing sound. The Mistral. The thing about the Mistral is…well… it’s so damn windy. And howly. Apparently in France if a man kills his wife during the Mistral, it’s considered extenuating circumstances. I could see how if this wind stuck around for too long the whooshing whistly sound and holding onto everything so it did not blow away could make you a little crazy.
After breakfast on the patio, holding down our food best we could, we set out for the day. The picking crew was heading out to do the last of the vendage, and so looked especially happy on this gorgeous morning.
St Remy market – about an hour’s drive from Vacqueyras – was our first destination. I can never get enough of farmers markets. I love the sights, the sounds, the characters selling their wares. Some of the merchants were familiar from market day in Vaison 2 days earlier – like the adorable man we most certainly did not buy foie gras from to bring home to Canada, and the cheese guy from the Savoie.
We bought olive wood treasures, a version of fougasse made from pastry, pois chiches (chick peas), petit epeautre, and some pottery from a man who still fires his pieces in an ancient wood-fired oven. There was nougat, and lavender honey, and flowers and linens. Tomatoes and berries and marinated olives and violet coloured garlic. The Mistral tried its best to create havoc, merchants struggled to weigh down lighter wares and voices were loud to be heard over the howling. I could have stayed all day.
We drove along to Paradou for lunch at the well known quaint Bistrot there. No menu to choose from – although I did spy someone eating escargot – which we were sadly not offered – he must have been a regular. We had eggplant Provencal, lovely rabbit wrapped in bacon, cheese and chocolate mousse. Extremely civilised.
A stop at Moulin CastelaS was the plan for the afternoon. I adore olive oil from France – so fruity, so ripe – you can practically taste the sunshine.
In 1999, with no previous olive oil experience, Jean Benoit and his wife Catherine bought a few acres of neglected olive trees near Les Baux. Using their experience with wine as a guide (Catherine comes from a family of vignerons), they immersed themselves in learning about making olive oil. Soon they bought 15 more acres, and took their fruit to nearby Maussanne to the village press. The town of Les Baux did not have its own communal olive press – so Jean Benoit set out to get permission from the local authorities to build one. Now they are the proud keepers of the Les Baux mill, and own over 1770 trees spanning 90 acres – some well over 400 years old.
The groves were magnificent – there is something so inspiring about the gorgeous olive tree, heavy with ripe fruit. We marvelled that not a single olive was being blown from the trees despite the efforts of the mighty Mistral. Jean Benoit explained to us the details of his process, his passion for his craft shining through. They were close to being ready to harvest – the earliest in years due to an extremely dry, hot summer. The fruit will be picked by hand, with the aid of electric combs – no machine picking here – and will be pressed within six hours of harvest. It will take over 5 kilos of olives to make one litre of delectable oil – with a good tree yielding 50 kilos of olives. We finished our tour with a tasting of the varietal oils, but my most favourite was oil from the Salonenque olive –which Jean Benoit described as feminine, persistent, gracious, and difficult to catch.
We bid goodbye to Jean Benoit and Moulin CastelaS to wind our way back through Les Baux to the vineyard in Vacqueyras. As the sun was setting, we sat by the pool, the Mistral having calmed itself down completely, drinking a cool ‘piscine’ of rose. The pickers came in from the field, tired and dirty from their day of back breaking work. Surrounded by fig, almond and quince trees heavy with fruit, over the sound of the chirping cicadas, we heard….the crow of….a rooster in the next hill! I think he was saying “Hey! Les filles! Je suis over here! Come and get me! Bring me home! Maintenant!” We ignored his pleas and headed inside – besides, there were fresh cepes that needed to be cooked in a little olive oil and a bottle of Gigondas that needed to be opened….
A perfect day in Provence.
Wednesday is market day in St Remy. Get there early – the town literally fills up. Stop in for a coffee at L’Atelier de L’Image – a wonderful boutique hotel with a gorgeous outdoor patio at the back.
Be sure to reserve in advance for Bistrot du Paradou – especially if you plan on going on market day.
Moulin Castelas is home to some lovely olive oils – you can find them in fine food shops in Canada and are also sold at A L’Olivier and Premiere Pression Provence. http://www.castelas.com/en/
Clos du Caveau was my home while in Vacqueyras for a few days – you can buy some of their wines at the LCBO in the Vintages section, and they have charming gites for rent should you find yourself in the area. I am pretty certain the rooster is not going to find his way home. http://www.closdecaveau.com/ehome.shtml
Paula, my host and dear friend, is a Canadian who lives in Provence several months a year – she writes a charming blog, and teaches cooking classes while she is there. http://www.atableprovence.com/aTable/Splash.html
