We decided to visit the weekly market of Vaison La Romaine. We had visited Vaison on both of our previous trips. One of our highlights from last year's, was a glorious and raucous celebration in Vaison's town square after France's beat Portugal during the World Cup finals.
We had a mission to find ingredients for that night's dinner. We wanted something a little more substantial than our usual bread, cheese and tomato picnics since we had a fantastic kitchen to make use of back at Le Vallon. Everything looked so good, I felt like the proverbial kid in a candy store...I wanted it all!
Wandering through the market...I excitedly discovered a vendor selling fresh artisanal nougat and calissons. Be still my heart! We were introduced to both of these Provencal delights on our HM (Michelle would serve little treats each morning at breakfast) and immediately fell in love with them. There were four different slabs...huge slabs (slabs big enough to pave a sidewalk, if you lived in OZ) of nougat to choose from. After tasting the samples, I asked a for a small piece of Lavender Honey nougat and a large piece of Orange Peel Nougat. I completed my purchase with a bag of calissons. And yes Virginia, there is a difference in the taste! (I am saving the last bit of orange peel nougat until I finish writing about this trip...mmm, incentive!)
Eventually, I amassed the supplies needed for the evening's dinner while my husband patiently followed me on my hunt.
We packed up the car and left Vaison with the intention of visiting the villages of Sault and Caromb. As we drove east from Les Dentelles, I spotted the summit of Mt. Ventoux completely free of clouds. Carpe Diem! Last minute change of plans, and we decided to go for the summit, before Mother Nature changed her mind.
As we started the ascent, we oohed and ahhed over the increasingly beautiful vistas. Below us lay a patchwork quilt of mountains, towns and fields of Provence. My heart skipped another beat, as my love for this region grew even stronger. The weather would have been warm that day, if not for the chill winds of the mistral that continued to blow. We marvelled at cyclists we passed who were making this same ascent via their own will power. And we were doubly humbled that the majority of them seemed to be quite a few years older than us. In NYC, I commute by bicycle most of the time, but the thought of trying to reach the summit of this mountain by pedal power truly astounded me. I looked at my husband like he had two heads when he suggested we might do the ascent by bike in the future.
As we neared the summit, a true suprise was waiting. Almost 200m from the summit of 2909 meters, the verdant greens of spring and summer were suddenly enveloped in frost and snow...and in two days it would be June! At the summit, the wind was so strong that it shook our car like a baby's ratlle. We parked and stepped out to admire the view. A dutch couple travelling by motorcycle kindly took our obligatory "we were here" photo. The chilly air was refreshing, for the brief five or ten minutes we lasted outside the car. I was awed by icicles on the road sign that had been rendered completely vertical by the strong winds.
Heavy clouds started to roll in, and I reminded my husband if we didn't move quickly, we would have absolutely no visibility driving down.
A hasty retreat from the summit, and we drove down Mt Ventoux. On our way back to Le Vallon, we made a detour and stopped at Gigondas and Vacqueras with two intentions. I wanted a photo of what I call "the Hollywood sign" that has amused me to no end on our previous visits and the hope of finding a cave that would ship a case of wine back to the US. We visited a few caves, and none would ship to the US. Oh well...we decided to do a degustation and buy a few bottles at a cave in Vacqueyras.
As I was paying for the wines, my husband eyed the huge casks from which you could fill your own bottles. This has been an ongoing obsession with DH since last year's trip...the novelty of filling his own bottle. So he mustered his courage, got out his nalgene bottle and tried to ask in his very limited but improving french if he could tank up (I was so proud of him for trying to speak French!). It tugged at my heartstrings to see the disappointment on his face when he was told that a minimum of five litres was required to fill up your own.
Back at the apartment, we both packed and readied our bags for the next morning's departure. And then I prepared dinner. I wouldn't say it was a major culinary adventure, but rather a simple experience. In my dreams, I want to be the kind of cook who can whip up a spectacular meal from nothing, without a cookbook to help me...I am a good cook, but there are times when the results just don't match what I envisioned. I prepared a salad, boiled the potatos and tried an experiment with the white asparagus, cooking it in butter, olive oil and white wine. The duck and rabbit we bought at the market were already prepared and packaged in these wonderful sacs with instructions for reheating. Hands down, they were the stars of our dinner. The duck had been prepared with olives and thyme. The rabbit was prepared in the Provencal style with olive oil, garlic, tomatoes, and thyme. Both were moist, succulent and exquisitely perfumed with herbs. For our wine, we opened one of the bottles we bought at the cave, a 2004 Gigondas Domaine Varenne Vieux Fut...it was a perfect food and wine match. Well, except for the asparagus...someday I'll figure out a fabulous way to prepare it.
After dinner, as the sunset, we took a walk along the Canal du Carpentras and through the fields and orchards near le Vallon. The countryside started to resemble a Millet painting, as the sunset bathed it in beautiful golden hues. We came across a cherry orchard and my husband mischeviously grabbed a handful from one of the trees. We savored the last moments of the day and the sweet cherries as we made our way home, and looked forward to next year's visit to Le Vallon and the two weeks that still lay ahead of us. Next stop, the Cevennes!
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