Nadine Williams

Myriad Memories of St Remy de Provence

Time for reflection on sweet memories of my favourite village in France.  Here is a photograph of me on market day in St Remy de Provence in 2004, and it is so exciting that I will be there again in six weeks. Yes, it will be nostalgic to return, but also cathartic to know that I can travel to France without my late husband, Olivier and enjoy myself.  I will be hiring a car!!! But, wisely,  have a reliable girlfriend in the passenger seat to ensure I stay on the right!!! side of the road.

Take, for instance, memories of market day in St Remy de Provence when hundreds of stalls jam the town meandering around to the ring of boulevards which encircle the old city built where once there was the moat.   From outside the ancient Basilica of St Martin along Rue Carnot through the village to Boulevard  Gambetta there are food stalls, jewellery stalls, cheese tastings, charcuterie, flower stalls laden with lavender and stall upon stall of linen with familiar Provincial patterns. The market holds so many pleasant memories.

In my memoir, From France With Love, I recall my first visit. “A blend of intoxicating aromas, sights and sounds assails us and the stallholders entice us to buy their wares. There are myriad smallgoods, pates, cheeses, fruits and vegetables, leather goods, clothing and accessories. The air hums with joyful chatter. Everywhere there are buckets of fresh Provencal herbs, lavender and olives and trestle tables laden with jewellery and Manchester. Along Rue Carnot we shop haphazardly among stalls selling cooked chicken and raw fish, pastries and scented soaps until we reach Place Pelissier, the open space heart of the village , where locals and tourists jostle for a bargain.”

To me, St Remy is the quintessential French village, and while it is home to 10,000 people, it has an intimacy of a Provincial village with its narrow, winding streets no wider than a cart and old shop facades, and all the usual food outlets – the fishmonger, the boulangerie, news agent and fresh fruit stalls – offering typical French village life. Around the Place de la Resistance with its mature plane trees, opposite the Basilica (which dates from 1122) there is a string of cafes and bars – all frontingPlace de la Republique. Olivier’s mother, “Mammy” lived around the corner from here, past the post office, no more than three minutes’ walk away.  Our ritual was to walk to the village daily to buy a French stick and indulge in café noir. I would sit in the café which spreadeagled around into Boulevard Marceau and write postcards.

 

Here too, that first year, Olivier and I danced at that very spot to the music of singers and a band performing at a street rock concert on a stage mounted on the back of a huge truck outside the Basilica and I wrote about that dream night too in From France With Love: “When Madame changes the mood and croons love songs, we dance cheek to cheek and he guides me through the thro9ng. Ah, that’s much better, I think. It’s so delightfully seductive that I almost melt with warm feelings for him.”

There are many grand Renaissance “town houses’ which have been renovated into prestigious art galleries and St Remy’s fashion stores carry quality  French-designed fashion and accessories, while the many shoe shops carry the  same ranges as in Paris.

What I love about St Remy is the circle of Boulevards, particularly Boulevard Victor Hugo, where every delectable specialty food store is located. The chocolate shop, next door to the biscuit factory outlet, has hot chocolate running out of a fountain in the window and on the other side of the road, there is a huge “maison” marketing the olive products of the region.  There are rooms laden with myriad porcelain pieces, manchester, bread or cheese boards and anything you could imagine is decorated with the images of olives. Forget all those Francophilia shops in suburbia, this is the real thing. Further down on the Boulevard Mirabeau there is the delightful Musee des Aromes to learn more about the distillation of Provence aromatic plants.

The architecture in St Remy is also historic, the most authentic being a Renaissance mansion, richly decorated, which now operates as the Musee Des Alpilles. Its remarkable inner courtyard includes a bust of Vincent van Gogh sculpted by Ossip Zadkine.  Hotel du Sade dates from the 15th century and there are family connections to the notorious Marquis du Sade. It is distinguishable by an arch that stretches across the narrow street just off Place de la Mairie, but was closed for renovation.  Behind it are the ruins of Roman Baths. There is St Paul de Mausole Monastery, the asylum where Van Gogh recovered from a breakdown and from where he painted iconic images of Provence. I remember going to a “garage” sale there as old nuns dispensed with their unwanted items. There were religious icons aplenty, valuable silver and superbly maintained linen, too. In the 16th century, Michele Nostredame lived in Rue Hoche, a dwelling in the old fortified walls to be the town’s most famous son and each day we passed the Fontaine Nostradamus the village’s central fountain decorated with his bust.

Five kilometres away is the Greco/Roman ruins of Glanum which includes some spectacularly preserved Roman structures including an intact Mausoleum datged from 40AD and an Arc de Triomphe from the same era with defineable carved battle scenes of Troy.  A few more kilometres down the road past many olive groves  is the exquisite medieval hilltop  village of Les Baux de Provence. Sure, it’s now a restored tourist trap, but those 16th and 17th century Renaissance mansions reconstructed with tourism dollars gives us a taste of how life was centuries ago when the village was owned by the Prince of Monaco. In one of those restored mansions Olivier and I oogled over an amazing exhibition of antique erotica.  Its ruined castle, Chateau des Baux  is silhouetted against the sky and from here there are panoramic views of Provence with its vineyards, olive groves, iconic avenues of pencil pines and far away to the horizon, seablue hints of the mystical Camargue. Then there is Les Alpilles, the stunning mountain range which forms the backdrop to it all. Dug deep into the mountain range is the disused quarry which has become the Cathedrale d’Images des Baux de Provence with huge images from top photographers  projected onto the floor and the 20-metre high walls.

Back in 2005 in St Remy de Provence, I bought the exquisite floral fabric which is now the curtaining in my bedroom.  It was in St Remy de Provence over the new year period when my daughter Serena, husband Jon and the two grand-children came from the United Kingdom and stayed in a villa on the outskirts of town. We were granted a tour of the chocolate factory and I remember how little Angus,  eagerly eyeing off the goodies, could no longer wait patiently for the chocolatier to offer him some. “Can I please try it?”, he said.

Another memory was the running of the bulls in the streets of St Remy. Unlike the notorious Spanish occasion, these young bulls run free in a contained street course with the crowds mostly barricaded behind tall fencing. The sport is to see which are most likely to be aggressive enough for the bull fighting ring. It is surprising how some bulls are simply timid and don’t even want to leave the big truck which opens to the street.  Young bucks from the village, taunt the beast and when one of them charges, they flee up lamp posts. The rest of us sit on high walls or behind barricades and one time, my husband  Olivier became separated  from me in the crowd and then I spied him out there on the street hiding from the raging beast behind a rubbish bin. Iwas horrified and screamed -a silly act given the noise of the spectacle.

In these same streets we watched the Fete de la Transhumance on Whit Sunday when herds of sheep are driven around the perimeter by shepherds and, of course, the dogs and afterwards, we walked with the villagers to sit at trestles under the pine trees to enjoy  a community luncheon.  Far more glamorous was the cultural festival to choose La Dame De Saint-Remy,  where single young women dress in traditional Provencal costumes to be chosen as an ambassadrice for the village. Each entrant is presented on a white horse accompanied by handsome young picadors.  Is it really nine years since Olivier and I sat in a restaurant on Boulevard Victor Hugo cheering on not only the women but the whole procession which presented the traditions and livelihood of the region.  It was all part of the patchwork of my rich French life with Olivier in St Remy.

This chapter has now closed. Both mammy and Valentine have died and no more than 18 months after his mother’s death in July 2010, Olivier himself passed away in May 2012.

When I return to St Remy in September this year, I have no doubt it will be nostalgic, I will probably weep, the way Olivier wept the first time he took me to the quarries at Les Baux in 2004 as he remembered his late wife, Colette.  However, mostly I will be filled with happiness as I relive all of these wonderful experiences with him.

 

 

A “potted” collection of French Cookbooks

With such a proliferation of glamorous cookbooks in the marketplace, the “Bible’’ of them all – the new English edition of the French encyclopedia of cooking, Larousse Gastronomique  is on sale for a hefty $145.00.

It was originally published in 1938 in French, but the first English translation wasn’t until 1961. This new edition has a new overseer – Joel  Robuchon heads a team of French cuisine specialists, who have checked out more than 3,800 recipes.

Another exquisite French cookbook by Ginette Mathiot isn’t a new publication, but is worthy of a mention for its thorough education in the art of French baking Needless to say, this is the title – The Art of French Baking and claims to be the definite guide to home baking by France’s favourite cookbook author.  Published by Phaidon, it offers 350 “simple’’ and authentic recipes.

The sceptic, however,  may be tempted to ask “When has anything so deliciously French as Brioches, Souffles, Choux Buns or Madeleines been “simple”?

Ginette was a legendary French food writer and the foremost authority on home cooking in France, living to a ripe old age of 91 years, being born in 1907 and passing away in 1998. Phaidon claims she is the foremost authority on home cooking in France teaching three generations of French families how to cook. Ginette wrote more than 30 best-selling cookbooks covering every aspect of French cuisine.

The Art of French Baking originates from one of Ginette’s definitive works Je sais faire la patisserie.

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However, my precious French cookbook is Le Cuisine sub-titled Everyday French Home Cooking by Francoise Bernard.  French newspaper Le Monde claims Francoise is “the icon of family cooking’’ and publisher Rizzoli of New York further promotes the book as “The culinary bible from the woman who revolutionised French cooking”.

This is one of the few that I use regularly when entertaining and each recipe is foolproof.  Francoise’s simplicity of ingredients even usurps my most prestigious cookbook by legendary Auguste Escoffier, the French chef who wrote 2000 Favourite French Recipes just before he died for French housewives.  (It has four pages of recipes for using brains).

Francois came of age in Paris during the Ocupation    and she is credited with promoting economy in the kitchen in the post-war era. Her culinary career began in the 1950s when she was recruited by Unilever to be the company spokesperson, devising new recipes. She soon became the trusted authority for the modern housewife, providing advice for a new generation of womn who had less time and money to spend in the kitchen. Her first cookbook Recettes Faciles (1963) sold more than one million copies in France and is still in print. And while it was followed by more tghan 20 pther volumes, La Cuisine represents Francoise’s best recipes and culminates her lifelong culinary career.

Here are a few tantalising recipe titles – Pot-Roasted Duck with Peaches, Herb-Marinated Rabbit with Ham Stuffing  and Rosemary-marinated Mullet with Saffron.  And for the love of your life, she has created Coeur tender en chocolat or Tender Heart Chocolate Cake.

It is a cookbook to fall in love with.

Her underlying lesson is that French cooking can be as diverse as the ingredients at your disposal.

God Bless Lilly-Grace

June 23, the date Olivier would have turned 75 was always going to be difficult to endure. And, yes, there were tears, but there was also joy in the family celebration of the Naming Day of my grand-niece (Am I really old enough?) Lilly-Grace, daughter of my niece Katie and her husband Josh.   Lilly-Grace is a tiny little babe with special needs  who behaved herself impeccably in church except when she had the microphone thrust in her face when in baby lingo she gurgled disapproval!

Afterwards at Hogs Breath Lilly-Grace never cried or complained and why should she – so well fed, so well loved and so pampered as everyone wanted to hold this sweet little girl.   May God bless you Lilly-Grace the way he has blessed you with exceptional loving parents – and grandparents, aunties, uncles and great-aunts as well as five cousins!

Celsius earns Wow Factor for Fine Dining

There is only one word to describe a Saturday evening 7-course degustation with matching wines at Celsius – “Sublime’’ !

Celsius chef Ayhan Erkoc (funny name, but don’t let that put you off)  is a culinary genius in the kitchen of his Gouger Street contemporary restaurant where his unique dining concept has already earned him Chef of the Year and Restaurant of the Year.  Each dish carries a “Wow’’ factor for its delightful presentation, exotic treatments of vegetables, herbs and flowers intricately complementing the flavours of main meat, game, seafood or shellfish.  He takes ingredients which sound similar such as Atlantic Salmon, Scallops, duck breast and Coorong Angus,  but that is the only familiar thing about his dashing dishes. His ingenuity with food makes each course a culinary adventure. Such as discovering finely sliced raw parsnip,  Egyptian egg,  rainbow chard, carrots the size of match-sticks and chestnuts no bigger than one’s finger nail. All delicate presentations are a delight to the senses when they arrive in a dazzling artistic display.

There is a  sense that Ayhan loves to play with food and uses his plates as an artistic palette, decorating with delicate violas and edible nasturtium leaves and “olive liquorice’ as glossy black dollops around the plate.  His treatment of ingredients bears no resemblance to anything you could imagine, but the moment the waiter places it before you with an enthusiastic flourish there is no doubting the genius in the kitchen. Each morsel is a taste treat.

Matching wines are also worthy of this four-star restaurant.  Take 2012 Poonawatta Estate: The Eden Riesling from Eden Valley, for instance, was a delightfully fresh accompaniment for Atlantic Salmon,
Beetroot, “Olive Liquorice’’, lardo.  The entrée of Scallops  (only two, but poached perfectly)was  accompanied by 2011 Espelt “Vailet’’ Grenache Blanc, Macabeo from Spain. A superb French pinot blance – 2011 Domaine Schlumberger “Les Princes Abbes’ was as much a treat to the palette as the Egyptian egg (crumbed), pine mushroom, rainbow chard and chestnut.

A glass of Three Dudes Pinot Noir 2008 enhanced the flavour of  duck breast, cooked to a perfect pink, while a hearty 2008 Murray Street Vineyards “The Barossa; Shiraz, Grenache Mataro 2008 accompanied the Coorong Angus, escargot, potato, parsnip and caramelised onion.

Desserts seemed too divine to eat and bore no resemblance to any previously devoured “cheesecake’’ or rhubarb dish.

 

Ayhan created extraordinary signature dishes with stunning wines to present guests with an unforgettable dining experience in a stylish intimate restaurant.

Seven-course degustation $120; with matching beverages $180.00

 

 

Family, friends help turn a new page

Hello everyone.  June heralds half a year already and time to send out my writings for the last few months.

I have so much for you to read on www.nadinewilliams.com.au, you are sure to find something of interest. Grandparents will love “When a Grandchild is Born’’, and those who want to laugh should look up “Keep Calm and Carry On in KI’’,  and Boomers who are still caring for frail, aging parents will empathise with ‘’Father Frank Finally Returns Home’’.

As I promised my late husband, Olivier, my new life of widowhood will include women’s friendships and getting back to writing and there is heaps of it in Ooh la la to Lovely Adelaide, In The Company of Women, Brave Angelina, and Iron Lady’s Legacy Lives On.

This note to you is important to me because I passed the first anniversary of Olivier’s death on May 11 and I have written about those terrible 12 months in May Maketh Days of Diamonds and
Some of Stone. The good news is a page has been turned as you will read in My Journal.

I am also tracking the progress of my garden for Olivier and as always, there are some wonderful floral arrangements in Life and Style by Nadine Williams – this time they are professional arrangements, not only my humble home efforts.

Kind regards and if you like my writing please forward the link on to all your friends.

Nadine Williams-Foubert

Father Frank finally back in Adelaide

Today (May 23) has been a day of diamonds . Sister Anne and I have secured a bed for our frail father at Glynde Nursing Home bringing the 94-year-old back from Renmark where he has lived for 13 years of his life.  Our little family group – Anne, my brother Andrew, my daughter-in-law Vanessa and myself  were given a tour of the large facility and of dad’s proposed room with its ensuite and street views. Our father has become increasingly lonely and isolated living in high care in Renmark hospital’s aged care residential facility.  After a two-year effort to find him a room, here we were thrilled at the level of accommodation and its various outdoor spaces .  We were hamstrung in our efforts to secure a room for dad because he wanted to move into a facility run by the Lutheran Church of Australia.

However, I have lived through this experience – the frustrations of trying to care for an elderly parent from afar.

Now Anne and Ken will go to Renmark to pick Frank up on Wednesday so by that afternoon he will be in his new home…a nice big single room.   It is superb and it’s about time he got a benefit like this for his lifetime service to the Lutheran Church.  At least now I don’t have to try and hitch a ride to Renmark. This year in October he turns 95 and I think he is remarkable and tracking well to match the age of his auntie who died at the incredible age of  100 years eight months. His sister Auntie Lilian will be 92 this year, too.  If so, we will have five more years at least to enjoy his company as our family’s patriarch.