GH Brief Commentaries II

Last night, around midnight, the weather abruptly changed, and the skies belched thunder and rain. Severe light ricocheted through the open windows of our room, and the storm rained down so ferociously that we could feel the pulse of the water flowing down the cobbles outside. This morning, the skies have cleared, and as I left the Domaine for my daily 7 AM visit to the boulangerie, I swear I could smell every fragrant plant and herb that filled the air distinctly. Fog gripped the valley floor, but as I rose up the winding incline into Gordes, the sun awaited me like a patient friend.

Today was the "surprise" I had promised our guests. We found our way to Saint-Remy-en-Provence, a very sexy, stylish village compared to many that host farmers markets. I bought two kilos of tortellini filled with Italian white truffles. It cost about 10% more than the two legs of lamb we purchased yesterday that Greg prepared to perfection. I'll prepare the tortellini sometime in the next couple of days; I'm thinking sautéed in butter, topped with a dusting of parmesan, and mingled with small cubes of jambon cru (a French-style ham) and some newly sprouted arugula, and topped with a six-minute poached egg. Fresh egg yolk remains one of the truly best "umami" sauces in my opinion.

We then ventured to the asylum that housed van Gogh during one of his genuinely crazy spells. In the distance, we saw the landscape he repeatedly painted while looking out of the window of his locked room. Around the corner, a 15-minute walk behind the asylum is a quarry that has been managed by the same family for several generations. Its Patron, Lolo, is a 94-year-old gentleman who personally prepares lunches for scheduled guests. It took me several months to secure the reservation, and it did not disappoint. After a small aperitif, we entered the excavated cave and sat down to a lunch of boiled fish, potatoes, carrots, and cauliflower slathered with the most sublime aioli (garlic mayonnaise) I have ever tasted. Thus, the dish is called, "aioli." The day was a great success, and everyone felt it was a chance to sink deeply into Provencal culture.

Tonight, John volunteered to take the dinner helm, and I'm told to expect a delicious fish dinner, which is NO surprise as he has made me many. I think our effort to encourage everyone to choose each moment is paying off, that is, to engage as one is inspired or to sit back and simply absorb. At times, we are all on the go or sharing a loud conversation on the terrace off the kitchen, and other times, some are scattered to quiet corners with a book, a journal, or a nap poolside. I'm coining the phrase "See or Be." Simple, like the way of living found in the South of France.