Wednesday 10.6.2010


The Definitive French day

Hallelujah! The sun is shining this morning and it will be a great day. We aren’t doing anything until 10:00 when we gather for juice and plans. There is a market in the square in the center of the old city so the intention is to forage for breakfast there. The Wednesday market is smaller than the Saturday market but there are a couple dozen vendors in an “L” shaped configuration selling produce, cheeses, home crafted products, meats, and even a fellow who has truffles and wild mushrooms. There are little truffles for 10 Euros each, big truffles for 60 Euros and bags of truffles for several hundred Euros.


The produce stands are loaded with first-rate fresh products that we would die to get our hands on back home. And the cheeses! John nibbles his way around the cheese stands like a mouse gone to heaven, alternating between soft creamy cheeses and hard pungent cheeses. Some breakfast. We buy a loaf of the local specialty Pain d’espice (spice bread) for later and Pat treats us to a mixed bag of honey-drenched baklava from some Greek fellow. We enjoy those on a bench in the sunshine and with a few more Americans around someone would have the good sense to open a Starbucks on the corner so we could get a 20 oz. dark roast. Pat is looking for some kitchen utensile souvenirs (yeah, right), but the hand carved stuff in the market is a bit pricy (more than eight euros), and we have no luck in a of couple kitchen stores.


We're bound and determined to get on "French Time" which means we should be looking for lunch at noon and take the next two hours off. There is a little sandwich shop just off the main square where we grab a variety of croques and cokes and find another bench in the middle of a pedestrian mall to eat and people watch. Then we're back to the hotel where the ladies read in the sun and JZ types. We have not had wi-fi access here so the blogging will accumulate until we do.


We gather up at about 1:30, pull the car out of the cave and plunge headlong into wine country. As mentioned, the Cote d'Or is the hillside of gold and as far as the eye can see there are grapevines beginning to turn autumn golden yellow. We wobble through tiny country lanes that gradually wind their way up to the little village of St. Romain.


Our guidebook tells us there is a barrel maker here and they will let you watch the process. No one is speaking English but they are most welcoming and wave us right into the midst of the process. We have been told that there are occasional tours, but this is better as we mingle with the fellows right on the job. There are probably a total of a dozen guys hard at it and an older fellow who we assume is Claude, the owner, is patting us on the back and quite pleased that we have stopped to see the operation. We walk back to the car happy that we made the stop. We continue our drive about 100 yards up the hill and there is the biggest barrel making plant in the universe with guided tours, assembly lines and people who speak English. Yes, we stopped at the wrong one, but we're glad we did.

We're now on top of ancient bluffs that allow us to see forever across the fields of Burgundy. On a perfectly clear day you can see to the Alps on the Swiss border. It isn't that clear today but we can definitely see a rising horizon in the distance. We gasp our way around little back roads with a new vista round every turn and make our way into Puligny Montrachet where there is a tasting of world-class white wines. We pick four from the list and John and Mary share while Pat assumes the role of designated driver. Tres Bien! Our price range usually doesn't extend beyond ten bucks, and while we like a couple in the 40 euro range we don't like them that much. Next stop is La Cave de Pommard where they are tasting three Pinot Noirs. The very pleasant but clueless young lady in charge this afternoon was obviously just yanked out of the accounting department so we are left on our own. It's free, it's France, and the sun is shining so who needs a wine guide. Again, these Pinots have what we think is an unusually thin texture to them so we skip the purchase counter and find our way back to Beaune. We have no oppostition to adjusting our tastes to the local wines, but if this is it, we have a ways to go.

We take a short break and then meet to find a casual spot for dinner. We ask Monsieur Gabbard, our hotel manager for a recommendation and he points us to a spot near Notre Dame that we must have walked past. On our way there we pass a brasserie that seems to have a bunch of locals sharing food and drink at the sidewalk tables so we think this place looks like more fun. There are people of all ages, some coming and some going and even the occassional dog or two dropping by. Mary had a plate of sausages and a potato cheese dish, John repeated the beef bourguignonne and Pat had a "loaves and fishes" type of tagliatelle pasta dish with ham and cream sauce, and we topped off our wine and beer. By the end of the meal we were all eating Pat's pasta and her bowl was still full. This is now referred to as the miracle of Beaune.


It was a great sunny French day and we get back to our hotel a little after nine very well satisfied with how it turned out. If only there was a Starbucks.....


Todays weather: Sunny and clear, low 48, high 75.