tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-47149497649667152242024-02-07T04:52:35.563+01:00The Goose in ToulouseCustom food tours of the south of France. Plump and paunchy, it waddled by; abounding curiosity, impeccable appetite. A visit in a region unexplored; a tummy delighted, the unexpected sighted.Marybeth Tamborrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04167818048526169240noreply@blogger.comBlogger43125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4714949764966715224.post-30247717457411698002015-09-19T22:35:00.000+02:002015-09-19T22:35:06.644+02:00Peter's Roasted Duck - Magret de Canard<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
In the Pyrenees Mountains duck is the poultry of choice: duck sausage, salami, confit, stews, cassoulet. The duck breast, or magret de canard, is simple to prepare and makes for an elegant dinner. I give all the credit to Peter, who has been cooking this dish for years in the family's home in SW France.<br />
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Duck breast is a great piece of meat: the meat is flavorful, best nearly raw, and kept moist by a thick layer of fat. <a href="http://www.foiegras-lemasson.com/#!contact/c24vq" target="_blank">David Lemasson</a> is an excellent brand of local duck and geese products-- they also make fantastic foie gras.<br />
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Preparing the duck breast is simple:<br />
1. Preheat the oven to 215° C or 420°F<br />
2. Score the fat<br />
3. Sprinkle with salt and pepper <br />
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A trick I stole from Peter was to layer the duck breast on a bed of ginger, just for a delicate taste that won't over power neither the flavor of the meat nor any sauces you may wish to use. Fat side up.<br />
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Pop into the oven for 20 minutes. The key to making good magret de canard is to let it sit! Don't worry: when it comes out after 20 minutes it will very rare. After sitting for 10-15 minutes, the meat is ready to be thinly sliced and served.<br />
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Having heaps of extra plums from the neighbor at hand, I made a Chinese-inspired plum sauce with star anise, cinnamon, ginger, a dash of vinegar, and a splash of soysauce. For the recipe, try the first one listed <a href="http://www.theguardian.com/lifeandstyle/2014/sep/27/plum-recipes-tarts-roast-duck-souffle-chutney-10-best" target="_blank">here</a>.<br />
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Marybeth Tamborrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04167818048526169240noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4714949764966715224.post-80666749272816483002015-09-03T15:23:00.000+02:002015-09-03T15:30:49.550+02:00August Cooking at Chateau de Bardies<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
August was a soft month in the town of Montesquieu-Avantès in the Pyrenees Mountains. Blessed with graceful sunny days that never scorched, and bursts of rainy grey days that never lingered too long, it was a lovely summer month to spend cooking in this big, rambling, curious house. Bardies puts on her best sunday dress when guests arrive and the many rooms that long sit dormant take on a new energy and buzz. Alone, it's a home in which to reflect or to write; but once company piles in the walls cheer for another glass and the tables are more becoming with plates as multicolored as the surrounding gardens or the artwork on the walls. Ah, to dine in good company! And that we did.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fennel, black olive, toasted pine nut and orange salad. </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It's dusk and the table is set.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Grilled on the planca with nothing but a sprinkle of salt, these fresh zucchini were nutty and crisp. </td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjlrmOaO4DGZfdiUOjBK5ZLIhcYF_yOE5Vat5qRI5ixXawNfrRNebXWosD0JcuQe8OEN2R6uwoAo6ranAprBgi7WLsJjmVyqsRyZ3ZtQlhi2rNBkRgJgqIeyT0woESqSPSvy_F5k_av7cD/s1600/IMG_20150822_202954074.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><br /></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A lunch with Sylvie and Gil.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTQPvtBbUzlu4qrjRrLsqu4PSjScYY-CYREj7wepG_JcAWtHFNdq8AbKp8B2jUoRvERvRZKzY6ltM8oYSd2hGFOUle3VH_zUvoGUbAaJYUs-cHarhN_KMA6s8Cr1DrDPyS5bl6UhVAqiVv/s1600/IMG_20150822_210539077.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTQPvtBbUzlu4qrjRrLsqu4PSjScYY-CYREj7wepG_JcAWtHFNdq8AbKp8B2jUoRvERvRZKzY6ltM8oYSd2hGFOUle3VH_zUvoGUbAaJYUs-cHarhN_KMA6s8Cr1DrDPyS5bl6UhVAqiVv/s400/IMG_20150822_210539077.jpg" width="225" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqH-8AeTWilQ9ts3iuEy09eOnCM_HOYvspof41q7XN99z7MaHD6uHPgVLPLWFHpA73_YxZyNaeYXHTNZ3YpnMTn3lEM3ajELCJ1N-yjEPGbx4Mb58jaLKKTwfMnyVWQNdp6CFUMQg88Amk/s1600/IMG_20150813_221347617.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqH-8AeTWilQ9ts3iuEy09eOnCM_HOYvspof41q7XN99z7MaHD6uHPgVLPLWFHpA73_YxZyNaeYXHTNZ3YpnMTn3lEM3ajELCJ1N-yjEPGbx4Mb58jaLKKTwfMnyVWQNdp6CFUMQg88Amk/s400/IMG_20150813_221347617.jpg" width="225" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTQPvtBbUzlu4qrjRrLsqu4PSjScYY-CYREj7wepG_JcAWtHFNdq8AbKp8B2jUoRvERvRZKzY6ltM8oYSd2hGFOUle3VH_zUvoGUbAaJYUs-cHarhN_KMA6s8Cr1DrDPyS5bl6UhVAqiVv/s1600/IMG_20150822_210539077.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Left: a cold night calls for roasted chicken in a pot. Right: Phoebe's Pistachio Meringues</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1PRGC_AuRQ6SdHvGasOz51U-i-vsYnUsbdyQhZ_WmD-bL6YUMQWaXOGwxfXJTufNNIe0MnPxGSyw8-RoFrxFxe7ShQXqP-eDxSPEAtAK2YJnmnUeqgIpGKOnhKHEkF9zzj-bniCod1lIp/s1600/IMG_20150819_153356369.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1PRGC_AuRQ6SdHvGasOz51U-i-vsYnUsbdyQhZ_WmD-bL6YUMQWaXOGwxfXJTufNNIe0MnPxGSyw8-RoFrxFxe7ShQXqP-eDxSPEAtAK2YJnmnUeqgIpGKOnhKHEkF9zzj-bniCod1lIp/s640/IMG_20150819_153356369.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lemon Syllabub. A freshly made lemon curd. Whipped marscarpone with white wine. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg52MWJCp8iD0vr1ahDwfc2PSVNxmYbasNTLua_SjnJSHSqtGo3LkQGeSVPLvCzRHlTfT-WbXytnidz1pB1kABdsqusHBQEgwV6hGxbt56prE4PFKArJa9om9Cvej2sDcPiSLPujpD3nWSY/s1600/IMG_20150818_143244244.jpg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg52MWJCp8iD0vr1ahDwfc2PSVNxmYbasNTLua_SjnJSHSqtGo3LkQGeSVPLvCzRHlTfT-WbXytnidz1pB1kABdsqusHBQEgwV6hGxbt56prE4PFKArJa9om9Cvej2sDcPiSLPujpD3nWSY/s640/IMG_20150818_143244244.jpg" width="360" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Grilled sardines and a squeeze of lemon.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX6DlKXF_gy2fPqpUOAL5QwbfWcyhyphenhyphenri5R0hXhsPVK-DYbEoGcj1Yvyp0RWtVL5YbLA6QLCcmfe9N_TBxDaOwufF_9pJI4CMIkfPcgYNgCgMcUAbU4NMIxc9I92T08njIhSwpLY46M-BnC/s1600/IMG_20150810_185748779_HDR.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX6DlKXF_gy2fPqpUOAL5QwbfWcyhyphenhyphenri5R0hXhsPVK-DYbEoGcj1Yvyp0RWtVL5YbLA6QLCcmfe9N_TBxDaOwufF_9pJI4CMIkfPcgYNgCgMcUAbU4NMIxc9I92T08njIhSwpLY46M-BnC/s640/IMG_20150810_185748779_HDR.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And dinner begins: Agnes style!</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPHvuhGLm2Ff7LR1Lg3ccCZqD6_yCzAbvKaoxiRnfDFQ91q815xf4fU91QHpRFIaAhYZtYOPn5JXDLk1ZGMKfsDPaj33dO140_n3GOsnI9-YCo20BHN_J-o4YiNIDRBmiBEMDGp_RwwBGQ/s1600/IMG_20150818_143252483.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a> <br />
I can be a bit of an old woman, but there is no better way to enjoy a
whole fish than poached and served with a freshly made aioli. For Peter's birthday, the family selected a gorgeous salmon. Luckily there was a kettle large enough for this beauty. I nestled it in lemons, bay leaves, parsley and onions, covered it in salted water, brought it to a boil, and let it rest until just cooked through. Aioli is a treat and makes the most simply cooked vegetables served alongside the fish become vessels for the lemony, garlicky sauce. <br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPHvuhGLm2Ff7LR1Lg3ccCZqD6_yCzAbvKaoxiRnfDFQ91q815xf4fU91QHpRFIaAhYZtYOPn5JXDLk1ZGMKfsDPaj33dO140_n3GOsnI9-YCo20BHN_J-o4YiNIDRBmiBEMDGp_RwwBGQ/s1600/IMG_20150818_143252483.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a> <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Plums picked from the trees. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHO2nV91fVO8tPFHw-dZUe_MdRQ1xVLGDOYuw9Y6RHsXERNEYmovTLyZ3QCZlkYkT4GW0Szp2IyEzhLRR8KHmCYiczCfXeD4PN_6FiJa0T3gWWAdwLvoM_A7sh0oiyw2tJxfhWUwJ_8Kbr/s1600/IMG_20150811_102658980.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHO2nV91fVO8tPFHw-dZUe_MdRQ1xVLGDOYuw9Y6RHsXERNEYmovTLyZ3QCZlkYkT4GW0Szp2IyEzhLRR8KHmCYiczCfXeD4PN_6FiJa0T3gWWAdwLvoM_A7sh0oiyw2tJxfhWUwJ_8Kbr/s400/IMG_20150811_102658980.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Breakfast at Bardies</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9CIfI5lGCcpq0I4-BO3QXJ9huPWFDrJH0iEJ21GnNdepRsskaQr6Kw139BBN9aTN2sd3uHDw0L-s0XmpYg63hsNhRLR9L6gnJXYUWfQeJeXHkXHQG8XQeF50msDjNaVx5bU2wN2paOg7N/s1600/IMG_20150819_140939412.jpg" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9CIfI5lGCcpq0I4-BO3QXJ9huPWFDrJH0iEJ21GnNdepRsskaQr6Kw139BBN9aTN2sd3uHDw0L-s0XmpYg63hsNhRLR9L6gnJXYUWfQeJeXHkXHQG8XQeF50msDjNaVx5bU2wN2paOg7N/s400/IMG_20150819_140939412.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yogurt, beetroot soup.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">No meal is complete without the cheese course.</td></tr>
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Marybeth Tamborrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04167818048526169240noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4714949764966715224.post-432182595563663802015-08-10T01:20:00.000+02:002015-08-10T01:20:33.411+02:00What's Cooking Part I<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
This month I'll be cooking in Chateau de Bardies for a fantastic family and their many friends.<br />
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Here are a few quick photos I've snapped. <br />
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Our neighbor, and a dear friend, brought over this unusual vegetable in the squash family. I roasted it with salt, and served it as a puree with just a drizzle of French walnut oil. Simple and tasty as a side to roasted duck. <br />
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Another treat from Christian the neighbor! These teeny plums are bursting with tangy flavor. Thank goodness I had an olive-pitter handy otherwise making this crumble would have taken ages. <br />
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A hot sunny August lunch, and a cool lemony cold cucumber soup.<br />
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A quick summer lunch for two: a beet root tart with goat cheese, thyme and orange rind, and a simple salad. <br />
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Marybeth Tamborrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04167818048526169240noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4714949764966715224.post-64934633611925255832015-08-08T23:48:00.002+02:002015-08-08T23:48:58.108+02:00Hiking in the Pyrenees Mountains<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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There is life in the Pyrenees, by which we tend to mean quaint villages, bustling biodynamic markets, and plenty of cheeses and <i>saucissson; </i>and then there is life in the actual high Mountains. Up in these heights, you reach another world.<br />
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Upon returning to the area, I wasted no time in calling a good friend and experienced hiker. I needed to get up into these Mountains again.<br />
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We left the car by the Guzet ski station, which is already a fairly steep drive with stunning views of the surrounding, lush, green mountains. From here we followed a well-marked trail that led us onto cliff-faces with metal-hand grips drilled into the rock face to scurry across. Great! Up, up, up we climbed.<br />
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Head down to watch one's footfalls, a hike in the Pyrenees offers time to reflect. <br />
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By the early afternoon we made our way to our Chalet, a small stone structure which was formerly a sheep herder's shelter. The departaments of France have generously up-kept many of these structures for hikers to spend the night free of charge. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A stone Chalet in the pyrenees, once used by sheep herder's, now a refuge for hikers.</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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No matter what you've brought along in your backpack-- no matter how melted, smushed, packaged, or bruised-- food is never so rewarding as high in the Mountains after a challenging climb. An apple feels like a celebration! A warm spoonful of food from a "just add water" packet tastes thoroughly fulfilling. <br />
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On day two we climbed up to the nearest summit, about 2700m, from which we had a stunning view: rocks, valleys, towns that feel world's away, soaring birds of prey.<br />
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The descent was fun: a small glacier, a dip in a glacial pool, and climbing over and around big boulders. While hopping over granite rocks, careful of my footing, my brain registered shapes quickly. It seemed as though all of my childhood preparation of jungle-gyms and legos was destined for Mountain climbing. Child potential fulfilled! <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Mountains above Guzet. The notch in the ridge near the center-left is the border with Spain.</td></tr>
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Marybeth Tamborrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04167818048526169240noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4714949764966715224.post-73004901244780771332015-02-28T14:14:00.004+01:002015-02-28T14:25:53.864+01:00 Domaine De Ravanes<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">Domaine De Ravanes - Marc Benin explaining his vineyards and land</span></td></tr>
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What a man, what a vineyard! </div>
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Marc Benin is a very clever person-- he is sharp, dynamic, generous, passionate, and adventurous. And you taste it all in his wines. Marc is the mad scientist of wine growers.</div>
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This is anything but ordinary. Domaine De Ravenes is a very particular vineyard. It breaks all of the rules, it veers off track, it gets creative, and it does it all fantastically. </div>
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But how can a vineyard in such a strictly regulated wine-producing country like France be such a rebel? Marc got lucky for an experimental French enologist. He inherited a vineyard which does not have an AOC (appellation d'origine contrôlée). Sure, this may make marketing a touch harder, but it gives Marc complete liberty to play. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">Domaine De Ravanes - Author, Lola Vardigans, takes a moment to take in the Languedoc light and vines</span></td></tr>
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I'll be honest, I found Marc because of a review from Jancis Robinson who claimed that Marc's Merlot rivals Petrus. Come on, this has to perk anyone's interest. </div>
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Let's see his wines. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">Domaine De Ravanes </span></td></tr>
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<b>Sanceer & Sauvignon Blanc:</b> Absolutely everything you want in a good-sipping Rose. This wine is exceptionally fresh, has a great scent of fresh ripe white fruits, and makes you hungry! </div>
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<b>Ibis Blanc, 2010: </b>This is something to get a hold of. I warn you, it's strange, and it's likely not for everyone. Marc had some fun making this one. A 50 / 50 blend of grenache blanc and ugni blanc. Ugni blanc? Yes, it's the grape that famously makes cognac. And surprisingly, you can actually taste that cognac flavor in the final moments of its persistent finish. The smell is already incredible: hints of sulfur and minerals. Its well balanced with great acidity and a nice bite of mineral that adds some zing to the fruity flavors of the ugni blanc. </div>
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<b>2012</b>: as above but a bit more fresh and acidic. I liked the bottle with a bit more age better, as the ungi tastes were more prevalent.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">Domaine De Ravanes </span></td></tr>
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<b>Le Renard Blanc 2011:</b> Made from 80 year old vines, this wine is 85% Grenache gris, 15% Macabeau. This would be my summer party wine. It opens up to you with a great nose: tropical, cooked pineapple, fennel, lemony salad. The taste had great acidity and was quite aromatic (orange blossom, even bubble gum). Frankly, the aromatics make the wine one I'd prefer with food. </div>
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<b>Merlot / Cab 2010: </b>Hang on, are we in the Languedoc? Yes. What makes Domaine De Ravanes so cool is that Marc takes from the best and makes it his own. Being a wine lover, of course a good Frenchman would only look to the Bordeaux region, the most famous region for the kings of grapes-- Cabernet Sauvignon and Merlot. So he took them to the Languedoc where he rightly predicted that he could make something good. And he did. This wine has a pleasant, understated and balanced nose, which all comes through on the taste. It's nice.</div>
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<b>Petit Verdot: </b>Using pre-phylloxera vines, Marc makes one heck of a wine here. It's plush, balanced, fun, chalky, acidic, natural, fresh and with some tastes of cumin and spice. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">Domaine De Ravanes - Marc Benin </span></td></tr>
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<b>Reserve '08:</b> This is a lovely wine that I just wanted to sip more and more of. It could even use a few more years in the bottle. The nose was beautiful, with a coolness, the smell of soil and apple orchard. The taste was gamy with a bit of chew to it, and the long finish brought out balance and some tastes of baking spices.</div>
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<b>Reserve Le Petit Verdot 2008: </b>This rockstar has been <i>en barrique</i> for 40 months! The nose is exceptionally clean and fresh: it's great to just stick your nose into it and breathe! There are notes of new sneakers, leather and the moisture of a stone wall. The taste is austere, meaty, roasted, some rosemary. </div>
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<b>L'Ille 1998: </b>This late harvest wine is 100% ugni blanc (again, the cognac grape). Left on the vines, these grapes pack in sugar making it a great cheese course wine. The nose has apple, cider, autumn and chilliness. The taste is sweet and sour… almost like a warhead candy with syrup and cider flavors. It begs a funky aged cheese! </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Domaine De Ravanes - Quinteszencia & L'Ille</td></tr>
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<b>Quinteszencia </b>20 Dec: This ugni blanc, late harvest has been <i>en barrique</i> for a whopping 76 months. This is a strange wine for a person who is as much a mad scientist drinker as Marc is a wine maker. It smelled a bit like a very aged balsamic (here we're getting the sugars and the wood) and tasted like toffee, carmel and walnuts. </div>
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Here, I'll show you some photos of his beautiful vineyard and home. Not only is the wine fantastic, but this land just breathes vivacity and intrigue. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoLX2BQGoEoSk4LC51DIMBrK3C5h9siX8s0cmZVCgZA177a-QIN7GBPB5DUwBPgN_AExwBxweO8Y11KB5AuV1FNYTKFsdfNPAIZbIezYqjAv8YMLvueGlZkJTmef3CJfUg3SKqj2Vx4egI/s1600/20140910_183221.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoLX2BQGoEoSk4LC51DIMBrK3C5h9siX8s0cmZVCgZA177a-QIN7GBPB5DUwBPgN_AExwBxweO8Y11KB5AuV1FNYTKFsdfNPAIZbIezYqjAv8YMLvueGlZkJTmef3CJfUg3SKqj2Vx4egI/s1600/20140910_183221.jpg" height="640" width="384" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A chapel in the woods of the property<br />
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0GDVpfoB8dtz0xHbzXPOxnS3ubrHzAyA3txCm-RNnS-ZSAmQSKY5fyI5CgTnF644xUz5UWblRVOF83RqmHz6fe-jv_7Kyg1kBaGjrHQ78PbgVldKX4fyKdnBV248-7zZVQUES-Va2kZKb/s1600/20140910_191050.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0GDVpfoB8dtz0xHbzXPOxnS3ubrHzAyA3txCm-RNnS-ZSAmQSKY5fyI5CgTnF644xUz5UWblRVOF83RqmHz6fe-jv_7Kyg1kBaGjrHQ78PbgVldKX4fyKdnBV248-7zZVQUES-Va2kZKb/s1600/20140910_191050.jpg" height="384" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">Domain De Ravanes - the rugged land of the Languedoc</td></tr>
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Marybeth Tamborrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04167818048526169240noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4714949764966715224.post-47677826321081137912014-11-13T11:59:00.003+01:002014-11-13T12:01:46.361+01:00The Best Gifts are Experiences (...and cases of Bordeaux)<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Here's my proposal for a Christmas present that is as memorable as it is delicious.<br />
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It wasn't very difficult to dream up what my ideal long-weekend would be: sleeping in French castles, Michelin stared meals, oysters on the bay of Arcachon, and visits with tastings at the world's best Chateaux. Even the most serious wine collectors will benefit from a one-day workshop through Lynch-Bages in which you are challenged to make your own personal Bordeaux blend.<br />
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Taking place over three nights and four days, this package is the perfect length of time to add to a few days in Paris, or a visit to the gastronomic hotspot, the Pays Basque Country (just south of Bordeaux). Furthermore, this package is sold as self-guided with the option to upgrade to include a private guide and driver for the duration of the trip. It can be booked whenever you'd liked (some restrictions apply).<br />
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Order by Dec. 1st and receive a complimentary case of wine-- one of Bordeaux's best kept secrets, this wine is produced by the family who makes Petrus! Just in time to pop under the tree.<br />
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<a href="http://www.gooseintoulouse.com/shop/4585424711/the-2014-christmas-package/9036660" target="_blank">Here's how you can order</a>!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk3UnlZCp8Mzd4Dqb8sTVlkEZaU5gfca-u1GTzSoaslY-ilfq7Lpoyq3WKkYewoaBTlpfpBXPiimKCFAeB8mRdjgrCIoadZWnoPgEbcAaxpyFvwPHciSogWXPRVXs_Ibi5IvvXLyz28SET/s1600/Package+GT3+b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk3UnlZCp8Mzd4Dqb8sTVlkEZaU5gfca-u1GTzSoaslY-ilfq7Lpoyq3WKkYewoaBTlpfpBXPiimKCFAeB8mRdjgrCIoadZWnoPgEbcAaxpyFvwPHciSogWXPRVXs_Ibi5IvvXLyz28SET/s640/Package+GT3+b.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Marybeth Tamborrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04167818048526169240noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4714949764966715224.post-43562000264532368892014-11-07T21:16:00.000+01:002014-11-08T00:25:07.599+01:00Le Pin, Pomerol: Here's to Advancement <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZGMggQB4EKxT-zAc5GygWOkEOy082pqTC08eBNQWDdZBsTXDwL5El60grSCeEYdLCaBqgeVQtcHZSM_oStuPHEltv6tD3zW58SbA9IB6lBr2_k90hpcb59AQMU3X4Sepb7HtR3yQElKhi/s1600/20140918_114743.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZGMggQB4EKxT-zAc5GygWOkEOy082pqTC08eBNQWDdZBsTXDwL5El60grSCeEYdLCaBqgeVQtcHZSM_oStuPHEltv6tD3zW58SbA9IB6lBr2_k90hpcb59AQMU3X4Sepb7HtR3yQElKhi/s1600/20140918_114743.jpg" height="320" width="192" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbIQ02qqf7veoUqaY_mS8wfA1qssaWptY68BR4cHiYCKWu36WyHKhtIdeLekGUpsZFj7yxiNMCalmWlIcKhA67FfReBe6gm0NBa5u741oBWIiCaRpl2gC_9KMMbt5X-eCsPZETsweoW7U2/s1600/20140918_142448.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbIQ02qqf7veoUqaY_mS8wfA1qssaWptY68BR4cHiYCKWu36WyHKhtIdeLekGUpsZFj7yxiNMCalmWlIcKhA67FfReBe6gm0NBa5u741oBWIiCaRpl2gC_9KMMbt5X-eCsPZETsweoW7U2/s1600/20140918_142448.jpg" height="320" width="192" /></a></div>
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Advancement is accomplished when we have outsmarted what appears to be our only two options: to turn backwards or to drudge along forward. </div>
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The food world currently stands at this fork in the road, and we've been aware that we're twiddling our thumbs here for the last 15 years. </div>
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Genetically modified foods, such as protein-enriched rice are actually combating levels of hunger and malnutrition; agricultural pesticides, aquifer tapping for watering, and chemical additives have reduced the potentials of crop failures that once impoverished entire communities; industrial machines and factories have mitigated the need for back-breaking, dangerous labour that once claimed so many lives. And yet how can we possibly be satisfied by the products that are the champions of such processes? What is satisfying about a twinkie? What is lovely about a Dorito?</div>
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Opponents of this system first turned to the good old days. We realized the importance of local production. We applauded heritage varieties, we started to taste the flavors of the lands around us and realized how much potential our own backyards had. We recognize value in a food product by its age old definition, the actual labor that went into crafting this product, and we can taste and smell this craftsmanship in products such as beers, artiginal cheeses, or local eggs. </div>
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<b>Le Pin is the synthesis that has fully realized our historical moment:</b> it has embraced the best of our advancement-- technical instruments, superbly designed facilities and architecture, and scientific research-- to create a product that requires the senses and memory to be appreciated, an outcome as varied as the seasons in which it was produced, a creation that is extremely personal and with a distinct personality. It would be an understatement to say Le Pin is special. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Pines of Le Pin seen from Le Pin's roof top terrace</td></tr>
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I arrived to Le Pin bright an early for my scheduled visit, which I had made with the secretary. Expecting her to greet me, it was my surprise when a Range Rover pulled up and out stepped Jacques Thienpont himself. I must admit, I did feel quite starstruck. How lucky to get a visit to the property and happen to catch a glimpse of the owner and creator of one of the world's finest vineyards…. and then, oh how lovely to get a handshake as he approached me. </div>
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Jacques Thienpont is jolly. He has the sort of face that would be easy to caricature: a linear, aquiline, distinguished nose, leading into a full, whole-hearted smile that raises his somewhat plump cheeks up until his eyes become just little crescents. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jacques Thienpont</td></tr>
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"You must be Mary!," he greeted me shuffling through his car searching for something. "I can't seem to find my keys to show you in, so I'll have to pass by my cousin's place if you don't mind."</div>
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His cousin's place! This could only mean his cousin Alexandre Thienpont of Vieux Chateau Certan. </div>
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"Hop in," he gestured to the passenger seat. </div>
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Barreling through the narrow, dirt roads separating the vineyards of Le Pin, he asked "Have you visited Certan?"</div>
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When I replied in the negative he quickly suggested in his jolly tone, "Well if you have the time, we might as well have a quick visit, that way you can see this property too. Why not?" </div>
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Alexandre Thienpont answered the door to the Chateau just as any home owner would, and held the door open upon seeing the familiar face of a relative. Alexandre gives the impression of being reserved, gentle, serious, and timid, with smart eyes behind glasses that show humor and wittiness when they dart up to hold your gaze. </div>
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He handed over the keys and in a soft voice said to me, "The keys to heaven." </div>
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For Vieux Chateau Certain click here! </div>
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And so began the visit to Le Pin.</div>
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Though it likely needs no introduction, Le Pin is one of the world's renown wines. With an average bottle price of €2,000 and an average production of only 400-600 cases per year, Le Pin is certainly hard to get a hold of. </div>
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So what makes Le Pin exceptional?</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWx-hz-6zWBKVzfUvyrvxeHTPcByZ1kimNZslEiFRbTJWD4TzpH8FqCvO7XA4N2-ZT4t7vhfzBnwweVzoozrI1fq-BTY0XW4veHwtuqpxNzPi1B0M4qKiCXegbCemTUnwPFIb14rLcozTj/s1600/20140918_142423.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWx-hz-6zWBKVzfUvyrvxeHTPcByZ1kimNZslEiFRbTJWD4TzpH8FqCvO7XA4N2-ZT4t7vhfzBnwweVzoozrI1fq-BTY0XW4veHwtuqpxNzPi1B0M4qKiCXegbCemTUnwPFIb14rLcozTj/s1600/20140918_142423.jpg" height="384" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Le Pin grapes the day before harvest, 2014</td></tr>
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Thienpont says that 95% of making a good wine takes place outside. Located in Pomerol Le Pin is neighbor to Vieux Chateau Certan (in fact, at first the property was thought to become a part of the Certan), and the Moueix owned Chateau Trotanoy. From the small roof-top terrace of Le Pin one has a view on some pretty impressive neighbors, and of course, the two lone pine trees that symbolize the property. </div>
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The soil is mostly clay with deep gravel and sandy soil and deposits of iron oxide. Vines are nearly 100% Merlot with an average age of 35 years. </div>
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That said, the focus of our vineyard took place inside the small Chateau. The small but mighty winery was designed by Belgian architects, Robbrecht & Daem, and was recently completed in 2012. </div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYT2Y6X44a846UQcXciDVhH4y_EqTeLtuSX8vYWX7sXIVl6JgNabBmZxyyIDOqUXnvZjFm1haOvbqEsqG_NjjbsrF50vZ7d7craG1g2SEqI6cg_5Bwc8Z4M2bZMai9AMKRBicjU9Xj1ATy/s1600/20140918_122159.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYT2Y6X44a846UQcXciDVhH4y_EqTeLtuSX8vYWX7sXIVl6JgNabBmZxyyIDOqUXnvZjFm1haOvbqEsqG_NjjbsrF50vZ7d7craG1g2SEqI6cg_5Bwc8Z4M2bZMai9AMKRBicjU9Xj1ATy/s1600/20140918_122159.jpg" height="384" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A model of the property</td></tr>
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Above is pictured a model of the building. The small tower houses the secretary's office on the ground floor, and Jacques / Fiona's office on the first floor. Jacques is quick to share his love of art, design and architecture, and even while talking about wine, often illustrates his point with metaphors of art. The small room has commanding views of the vineyards stretching as far as Cheval Blanc, which can be enjoyed from some damn gorgeous leather and wood Scandanavian chairs and sofa. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVp_9eNWa4aUWs9w5IeQzU9sTWhvbPMrMMIMVtvEMWxBzJ02J8Z27uBaO3Wux4D2-xtcpL9oq_D-4xIqLB7GVDTBHywwJc79fndxRskExrixyRDLdWIlrnUUVQxks3hhl_S_SICSc5XRLJ/s1600/20140918_121800.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVp_9eNWa4aUWs9w5IeQzU9sTWhvbPMrMMIMVtvEMWxBzJ02J8Z27uBaO3Wux4D2-xtcpL9oq_D-4xIqLB7GVDTBHywwJc79fndxRskExrixyRDLdWIlrnUUVQxks3hhl_S_SICSc5XRLJ/s1600/20140918_121800.jpg" height="400" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3AAvNsvF7r2E_lPLwIeTsKkfeu4ucYEEKX1e0xkjOoZWhyXeyaIZsxP5TO1m-KY8Z1LRScI6UiM4sQMiw__m5HeQxBEeCI9v2BY99rBD63jc4siBkVtHqwqif4gdtxMC3XFp6TxEqXxy_/s1600/20140918_121714.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3AAvNsvF7r2E_lPLwIeTsKkfeu4ucYEEKX1e0xkjOoZWhyXeyaIZsxP5TO1m-KY8Z1LRScI6UiM4sQMiw__m5HeQxBEeCI9v2BY99rBD63jc4siBkVtHqwqif4gdtxMC3XFp6TxEqXxy_/s1600/20140918_121714.jpg" height="400" width="240" /></a><br />
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One of Jacques' favorite pieces of art that commemorates the property is this black and white photograph of one of the two famous pine trees. He explained that it was photographed on a day not unlike my visit: the sky was dark and overcast, but at one point this terrific, brilliant light shot through the grayness bringing out the textures of the tree.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxWj2eKOzxPjpPt9aiFYsl0AvJpt3DQg3xckB1sHY-p5mPT654nr_hJUbq3HsefWXVkmhTQ_re8CsW40F-xJaZZ_rYuKRMbm_xrtvFSwMMQwPsGPYZbd9wLUf6972oo2uZ0taIzOegyDRT/s1600/20140918_114918.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxWj2eKOzxPjpPt9aiFYsl0AvJpt3DQg3xckB1sHY-p5mPT654nr_hJUbq3HsefWXVkmhTQ_re8CsW40F-xJaZZ_rYuKRMbm_xrtvFSwMMQwPsGPYZbd9wLUf6972oo2uZ0taIzOegyDRT/s1600/20140918_114918.jpg" height="384" width="640" /></a><br />
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One theme from Le Pin: maximum quality from minimum space. This room is no different. Behind folding doors, Jacques reveals a sink and storage area that can accommodate tastings and some preparations. Other panels can pop forward, revealing a television. </div>
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The long segment of the building is the fermentation room and cellars. One enters this space from the covered out-door space between the two buildings. Here sit 7 stainless steel tanks, with coils inside (for controlling temperature) and double layers. Though each tank appears to be the same size, the inner layer varies from 15 to 40-something hectoliters to hold the wines from various plots of the vineyard. Jacques explained that this room, like all areas in Le Pin, were designed to maximize hygiene, a quality in wine production that is paramount for Fiona. Jacques says the fermentation should take place as quickly as possible, which at Le Pin is just two or three days. He explained that grapes are a natural fruit juice, just like leaving orange juice on the table for days on end, grape juice will develop unwanted flavors if the fermentation process takes too long. The temperature automatically increases during the fermentation and the vats ventilate the carbon dioxide, until there are just under two grams of sugars. Fermenation requires some air, the quantity of which varies from vintage to vintage. </div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6juY030w5g0yEB8qIvHaEnS5aDuG7d-4CPLjsth2cM_GOEQCgshraqzdbp1vFCHKmyfdhlP3UFaASgqDrF4XpXoS0H5myh8MzO0agaabu35Us7IObaiqPreDI3QQJY9wPku5_lgevWGi7/s1600/20140918_115544.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6juY030w5g0yEB8qIvHaEnS5aDuG7d-4CPLjsth2cM_GOEQCgshraqzdbp1vFCHKmyfdhlP3UFaASgqDrF4XpXoS0H5myh8MzO0agaabu35Us7IObaiqPreDI3QQJY9wPku5_lgevWGi7/s1600/20140918_115544.jpg" height="384" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Le Pin's fermentation room</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU1xb1j5gD_rJhM1MSe3Wp3GG4D-QV_S-hvOtnosC0fS3F720iMonaAYd_wE-Ig0ooxqFId29oxQYI9hJUrzozHSiVCpGi-8u8rfBIwgWiCki9Ki2JasX0YASkBnaUeP5qPobO3vYwvLhd/s1600/20140918_115204.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU1xb1j5gD_rJhM1MSe3Wp3GG4D-QV_S-hvOtnosC0fS3F720iMonaAYd_wE-Ig0ooxqFId29oxQYI9hJUrzozHSiVCpGi-8u8rfBIwgWiCki9Ki2JasX0YASkBnaUeP5qPobO3vYwvLhd/s1600/20140918_115204.jpg" height="400" width="240" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdjhyCXzRLviA6ATT9pDQfbo-TOFJR8pB5AByrsPZ5YLmrnlK7qQ5YO57zhZRO3cbzyrvfunMJzU2qxIk0PqfxAeKQL4MBp0o7benLcfEx-NnBiTMLbkxx3a9Y_walrJEXQz4BXc8WMwDH/s1600/20140918_115220.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdjhyCXzRLviA6ATT9pDQfbo-TOFJR8pB5AByrsPZ5YLmrnlK7qQ5YO57zhZRO3cbzyrvfunMJzU2qxIk0PqfxAeKQL4MBp0o7benLcfEx-NnBiTMLbkxx3a9Y_walrJEXQz4BXc8WMwDH/s1600/20140918_115220.jpg" height="400" width="240" /></a><br />
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The space has the feeling of a gallery: with it's dark stone floors, and high ceilings, the room is airy and light. It feels new. Always excited to share a design feature, Jacques explained that the windows are positioned at the east and west corners of the building so that the room has two daily moments of direct sunlight and is always bright.</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwirRrIUFFJ91BDL2pkCmuHUUjeOjyhxAMvdIYomjLqz7pd8kgCS2S9spaA-fJupeXNxgzIO9i4O3kYOdlY9rIfI5lJE1eZE8XEKipPW-w6t5HfwyeQ2DMYCKollvZ7ATCTh5MKJXt2TPQ/s1600/20140918_115212.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwirRrIUFFJ91BDL2pkCmuHUUjeOjyhxAMvdIYomjLqz7pd8kgCS2S9spaA-fJupeXNxgzIO9i4O3kYOdlY9rIfI5lJE1eZE8XEKipPW-w6t5HfwyeQ2DMYCKollvZ7ATCTh5MKJXt2TPQ/s1600/20140918_115212.jpg" height="384" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jacques Thienpont points out the windows in the fermentation room</td></tr>
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Going down the stairs to the cellar, another window is added just above ground level to let some natural light into the cellars. In Jacques' words "Just like New York!" </div>
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The barrel room has that fresh, toasty smell of new oak. Here in 100% new french oak, the wine undergoes its malolactic fermentation, a practice which Jacques was one of the first to practice in the Right Bank. This room can be partitioned in two by sliding doors so that the temperatures can be controlled for two different vintages: the new vintage will need some heat during its second fermentation, while the last year's vintage must remain cool. Jacques noted the airiness even in this room: with the barrels close to the cool floors, the room has plenty of airspace to dissipate rising warmer temperatures. </div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBfIPg6FV6_mcMQTl4gjsUtImq_jcuuQtn8HpXP6rGi-1DiSu-eixwFFauhd2XQL6D_Rl5dGnQAqp6m7vtry9vnF9P1P23Jf0-lu4EA5CDodqqmdnqRCzMSc2NzjmiaosX7UswUOK6mYeV/s1600/20140918_115858.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBfIPg6FV6_mcMQTl4gjsUtImq_jcuuQtn8HpXP6rGi-1DiSu-eixwFFauhd2XQL6D_Rl5dGnQAqp6m7vtry9vnF9P1P23Jf0-lu4EA5CDodqqmdnqRCzMSc2NzjmiaosX7UswUOK6mYeV/s1600/20140918_115858.jpg" height="384" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The cellars</td></tr>
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When I visited in September, the day before the harvest, the room held two vintages: the 2012 had just been bottled; and the teeny-tiny 2013 filled just one tank (only 6 hectoliters, or about 800 bottles). The 2013 vintage has such low yields due to terrible storms that destroyed nearly 60% of the regions crops in the last weeks before harvest. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMIBecwX5XfWdVyIHeoPX4KJBJPJ1qwsyFsGhTfoqHS9HhCPlOrp2o_5IrVigj6_UBc39tJ1HzPojs9LpHRcsFWAN5y-kZhufVw2WWUtxu5I5LwxTRvvFGDUDBLGtzqvKoaCItKnKbv5y1/s1600/20140918_120416.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMIBecwX5XfWdVyIHeoPX4KJBJPJ1qwsyFsGhTfoqHS9HhCPlOrp2o_5IrVigj6_UBc39tJ1HzPojs9LpHRcsFWAN5y-kZhufVw2WWUtxu5I5LwxTRvvFGDUDBLGtzqvKoaCItKnKbv5y1/s1600/20140918_120416.jpg" height="384" width="640" /></a><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf8_AdueLmgGpq-VhqaGTMRAtmTc04xAtZZt6HeTmGRne_zU5iggLOJU5PmYYwMaKTfiPTpBs2JOd97K0VO-XvM5TUKyU3Qhb4OyKOb6vCxTVHq2ksljj57Gc9zb9rd5YOI9BSlJH6d3H5/s1600/20140918_120318.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf8_AdueLmgGpq-VhqaGTMRAtmTc04xAtZZt6HeTmGRne_zU5iggLOJU5PmYYwMaKTfiPTpBs2JOd97K0VO-XvM5TUKyU3Qhb4OyKOb6vCxTVHq2ksljj57Gc9zb9rd5YOI9BSlJH6d3H5/s1600/20140918_120318.jpg" height="400" width="240" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSfkPPVQr1j23QqPevufR484TRDrIdInMfsGaKprO9aJqJPU2y-ifukJxJdFwH6S4MU6DPDmvT360HXxvD8q8EA9M1B6xLr2WtPDHuIcvdurM7VVuJLkZ8l1a2QAmWlneMjOF7VLzN2qcx/s1600/20140918_120043.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSfkPPVQr1j23QqPevufR484TRDrIdInMfsGaKprO9aJqJPU2y-ifukJxJdFwH6S4MU6DPDmvT360HXxvD8q8EA9M1B6xLr2WtPDHuIcvdurM7VVuJLkZ8l1a2QAmWlneMjOF7VLzN2qcx/s1600/20140918_120043.jpg" height="400" width="240" /></a><br />
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Above is Jacques with his favorite wine bottle size: the double magnum! For wine bottles, bigger is in fact better, as the bigger the bottle the lower the surface area exposed to that tiny gap of air in proportion to the wine, and thus better aging potentials. Please take note readers who wanted to purchase me some Le Pin: I'd prefer a double magnum.</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrWxKabRdTUFCCFEy0qLYxdEjwTIMTZUgcEcNaIMdusJsVS7S7M0yfJks7le5UqlQ01xJx5Otn23CFgZIe109JVyEXfD7NmxnqlHZEYK8QEpEIFImpT26vtkRiw4pLKu6C_bf35MaPpvXH/s1600/20140918_120355.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrWxKabRdTUFCCFEy0qLYxdEjwTIMTZUgcEcNaIMdusJsVS7S7M0yfJks7le5UqlQ01xJx5Otn23CFgZIe109JVyEXfD7NmxnqlHZEYK8QEpEIFImpT26vtkRiw4pLKu6C_bf35MaPpvXH/s1600/20140918_120355.jpg" height="384" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">2012 Magnums</td></tr>
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As one of the world's most expensive wines, it's no surprise that many fake bottles of Le Pin have been sold in the past. To counter this, Le Pin has always been a pioneer in using the latest technology to guarantee authenticity. Currently, it is the first vineyard to use Near Field Communication (NFC), a Belgium invention. Behind the label of each bottle of Le Pin is a small chip that can be scanned with your smart phone. The phone sends a unique code to Belgium where the code matches up on the computer. He explained that it's a bit like online banking devices (we in America don't have these, but my UK bank gave me a small device that looks like a calculator into which you insert your pin, which then generates a code that can be used for online access). Jacques' explained "what's dynamic can't be copied". </div>
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Currently, Jacques is developing a new technology for the cork which would connect the cork's code to the bottle code, ensuring that a bottle has never been opened. </div>
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The last room that we entered was his cellar. Wall to wall Le Pin of every vintage!<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguO2-CAANB2Ywu01kiyHNQsjAT17r4-lFZBqo2sga78qHvxSDqWFCyjSWH_ni5oAdPigbzXsaVA1tUDn7nVOUSlda1CivbK1FfKNdKuDKJ1MtMKpH7g1WBhiPWT3dhQs0xG66FkjYVMAvM/s1600/20140918_120618.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguO2-CAANB2Ywu01kiyHNQsjAT17r4-lFZBqo2sga78qHvxSDqWFCyjSWH_ni5oAdPigbzXsaVA1tUDn7nVOUSlda1CivbK1FfKNdKuDKJ1MtMKpH7g1WBhiPWT3dhQs0xG66FkjYVMAvM/s1600/20140918_120618.jpg" height="400" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The wine cellar at Le Pin</td></tr>
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Our 10am visit lasted until 1pm, at which point Jacques looked at his watch and asked what I would be doing for lunch. With generosity and kindness, he invited me to join himself and two remarkable young individuals who would be helping with the harvest (a young woman from Belgium, and a young man from the UK). "It's always lonely having to eat alone when you travel," he added.</div>
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I had arrived that morning already grateful to learn about one of the world's greatest wines, and I left brimming with appreciation. Jacques Thienpont's generosity, humility, intelligence, and passion had exceeded my expectations. He is an individual to be respected not just for his advancements in wine-making or his acute entrepreneurial skills (demonstrated by his purchase of Le Pin in 1979, and his recent purchase of L'If, as well as his negotiant company in Belgium), but he is a man of character. Humbly conversant in a range of topics from restaurants in Rome, to avant-garde art, to politics of poverty in he United States, his joy for life shone through. Clearly an advocate of lending a hand to youth, our lunch was a demonstration of the importance of "paying it forward," if you will. And he did.<br />
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Thank you, thank you, thank you, Jacques Thienpont for the visit, and to Master Sommelier Fiona Thienpont for organizing it. </div>
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Upon leaving Jacques handed me a bottle with a wink and said, "Here, share this with your friends." I'll write to you after Christmas when I return to New York where I plan to share it with my best friend, Nina. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Selfie with Jacques Thienpont</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">On the roof top of Le Pin with the pines themselves! Thank you Jacques!</td></tr>
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Marybeth Tamborrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04167818048526169240noreply@blogger.com0Pomerol, France44.9328 -0.1992000000000189244.887834 -0.27988100000001892 44.977766 -0.11851900000001891tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4714949764966715224.post-87160101315650851272014-09-18T22:06:00.000+02:002014-09-18T22:12:23.937+02:00Thank you - a great research trip! <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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I feel blessed. </div>
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Throughout, I have always been showered with love. Of course, it started with my parents, but it continued. I have met the kindest people who I have the pleasure to hold forever as my best friends. I have been loved by the most generous, biggest hearted, most intelligent, creative, excited, respectful men. And the older I get the more I feel gratitude for this. </div>
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When I made the decision to leave Chicago now nearly four years ago, I had purchased my ticket, started to pack up five years of belongings and collections, and planed to quit my job. A huge weight had been lifted at that moment because I had chosen. I was no longer in the phase of indecision that torments so many new graduates. I had chosen to leave Chicago and move to Italy. And after having made my choice, I was able to breathe deeply and enjoy the city. Perhaps the last symphony I went to -- my favorite Chicago ritual-- was Mitsuko Uchida's 23rd Mozart Piano concerto. </div>
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I sat in my favorite seats on the lower right balcony. Amy and Brian attended and during the pause gifted me with the complete Piano Concertos so that I could ask to have it signed and get to meet Uchida herself. During the second half of the performance, the 23rd concerto, I felt the confines of my body matter blur as my happiness seemed to shake out of me and melt into everything surrounding me-- it melted into the height of the concert hall, into the flute who beckons the piano to come, it exhaled from my lungs which had been filled with deep breaths of charged, clean air. I felt that life was great. So big. So special. And here I was-- just a little element in it, but a little element who is treated so unbelievably well in it. </div>
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Today I feel the same.</div>
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I had a difficult week, the events of which had tested the limits of my patience, grace, and stress levels. To add insult to injury, I had missed a much coveted Chateau visit and was feeling like the world's biggest idiot. But throughout the week someone was always there to share with me the joys of life and to teach me another of life's wonders-- my traveling companion, Lola, with whom I shared many great conversations, laughs, hotel rooms, meals, and adventures in wine country; Carla, the owner of Chateau Lamothe who welcomed me and made me feel at home for nearly a week; the troupe of humorous and good-hearted English visitors who had just the right joke to keep me laughing until my abs were sore; the winemakers in the Languedoc who invited me into their vines and fermentation rooms to teach me and share with me; Veronique in Provence who hosted me, fed me, and taught me so much... life never smelt so good!; Sabine in Toulouse who rode me around the ancient quarters of the city from the wheelbarrow attached to the front of her bicycle; and most recently, Jacques Thienpont, who has gifted me his time during two informative visits through Le Pin and Vieux Chateau Certan, his conversation, and a lovely meal in the company of two spirited young friends, and cumulated this sense of wonder and gratitude that now so inspires me. </div>
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These last two weeks have felt like a year. I have lots to share with you, and I will post individually on each of the vineyards, hotels and restaurants who are cultivating beauty. </div>
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So, here's to life! Thank you! </div>
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With gratitude,</div>
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Marybeth </div>
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Marybeth Tamborrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04167818048526169240noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4714949764966715224.post-40531427240701029312014-08-24T17:55:00.002+02:002014-08-25T18:43:47.280+02:00Château Haut-Brion & La Mission<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Château Haut-Brion is austere. </div>
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The more vineyards I visit the more I notice that each has such cohesion and symmetry down to the details seemingly most irrelevant to the taste of the wine. </div>
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I wonder if you lined up Château employees (owners, ambassadors, tour guides), could a good sommelier-- rather than pinpointing the vintages of a wine-- determine at which vineyard each individual worked based only on the reflection of the wine in their style, or vice-versa? </div>
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Certainly these details are not overlooked, and an institution such as Château Haut-Brion spares no expense to align all details such that they compliment with the elegance and austerity one observes in its wine. </div>
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Haut-Brion is located in Pessac-Léognan appellation just on the border of the confines of the metropolis Bordeaux. In fact, the first time I visited the Château I was surprised by the fact that I had hardly left the city when the grand gates sprang up before me. </div>
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A visit starts with a movie. The noble voice of owner H.R.H. Prince Robert of Luxembourg introduces the viewer to his vineyard, taking one through the history, winemaking process, and, most importantly, underscoring what makes Haut Brion and La Mission so unique. The oldest of the First Growths in Bordeaux, Château Haut-Brion is also the first to give the name of its chateau to its wine, thereby creating one of the first "brands", and underscoring, the now ubiquitous ideal of all well-made clarets, <i>terroir: </i>the idea that a wine should express its particular land, climate and people.</div>
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The Château has its own onsite cooperage, in which wood from carefully selected parcels of forest is brought in on site to be hand-worked into barrels specifically created for the wine. Each barrel is toasted to give off delightful aromas of baking spices, vanilla, and general coziness. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The cooperage at Chateau Haut-Brion</td></tr>
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Tasting. </div>
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In terms of style, La Mission and Haut-Brion are strikingly similar. If you had invited them to dinner, despite their different dresses, you could certainly tell that they are sisters from their elegance. These are truly elegant wines. I would invite both sisters to dinner often, as they are not over-stated, slightly reserved, and slowly and intriguingly revel their secrets with great pleasure and patience. </div>
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We tasted Château Haut-Brion 2007, and La Mission 2007. Despite their relatively young age, tasting this vintage was a pleasure as both wines are showing such balanced freshness, structure, and character. La Mission offered a truly spectacular nose with fragrances picked up from the toasted barrels, fresh ripe dark fruits, and earthiness. Though it goes without saying for most readers, it is important to note that the two wines are both of the highest-quality. Haut-Brion may be older and more famous, but its sibling is no small fish. </div>
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The year 2007 was a tricky one: by no means ideal with its humid winter and spring, this year required a good amount of labour to secure such a lovely result. The 2007 Haut-Brion opens up very slowly, so slowly you hardly notice it and then you are sipping away with pleasure. She does not tire you. Intriguing, the drinker is urged to take another sip. It's soft with very well-integrated tannins, creating a nice round mouth feel. It's not worth describing the specifics of flavors: I cannot remember the exact words she said to me, but I will never forget the overall effect of her presence. </div>
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I'd gladly enjoy many more bottles of this. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The tasting room of Chateau Haut-Brion</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Comparing La Mission and Haut-Brion</td></tr>
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Marybeth Tamborrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04167818048526169240noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4714949764966715224.post-31308326716152521322014-05-05T17:09:00.002+02:002014-05-05T17:14:33.901+02:00Stuffed like a Goose<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Today I have really dined. Upon recounting my meals to a friend, he responded, "After all you are the Goose, aren't you?"</div>
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I have taken the name, The Goose in Toulouse, to mean many things: to acknowledge the bird who has provided such a staple and delicious product to the region and to compare these journeys to a children's story or a fairy tale. But, my friend is right: I too am the goose, in the sense that France often stuffs me to the brim, and that I share this pleasure with those with whom I journey. </div>
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Today was no exception: from breakfast to dinner, France has been a champ! </div>
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I have told you of the splendid magical house in the mountains (La Maison du Sylvie) in previous posts. In the springtime the house is perhaps at its prime: The mountains glow in the distance with the remains of winter snow, and the world shines with every shade of green. </div>
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A vegetable well-prepared is never forgotten. In my memory, the taste of Sylvie and Gil's wild salad with home made vinegar will forever stand out as a taste of freshness and earthiness. This time, Sylvie garnished the salad with some small field flowers.<br />
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Their foods are always simple but crafted with such care: perfectly cut potatoes roasted so that each surface was uniformly crispy and a guinea fowl stew with slow-cooked, sweet onions. With the wine flowing freely and abundantly, their food beckons seconds and thirds until everyone must wilt with satisfaction upon the backs of their chairs, breathing deeply, marveling at the landscape, and radiating with pleasure.<br />
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And it is after a few moments like this, that the little decorative plates for the cheese course emerge, and there in the center of the table, is placed a plate of the most delicious cheeses of the Pyrenees. My favorite goat cheeses (the two round ones) made with such fresh, spring milk, and two wedges of a hearty cow's milk cheese from the mountains that boarder Spain.<br />
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And just when you think you cannot manage another bite, you are presented with a fresh, tangy berry sauce that refreshes after a satisying meal. The dessert is a <b>croustade</b>, a typical desert from the Ariege made with lots of butter, apples, and in this one prunes. </div>
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And after such a meal, there is only one thing you would like to do: lounge in the grass, take in the sun, and strum a guitar. </div>
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Well, after such a lunch I returned back to Saint Girons. Just when I couldn't imagine eating any more, dinner was announced ready. A glass of Saint Emilion in hand, my appetite was quickly regained at the sight of this plate:<br />
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<b style="font-style: italic;">Cassolettes de fruits de mer</b>- Scallops and shrimp pan-seared in butter. Simple enough. But as the French do, the dish was accompanied by the most perfect sauce. The cream and spice nicely bathing each savory morsel of seafood. But the real charm to this dish was the unsuspecting dollop of creamy vegetables in the middle. This was so delicious I ran to the kitchen to inquire what this vegetable was, and low and behold it was a cream of baby leeks (pictured below). </div>
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And just when the flavors in your mouth are so so happy you could not imagine that gustatory pleasure could possibly increase, you are served with a <b>magret de canard stuffed with foie gras entier</b>, pan-seared so that the fat gets nice and crispy, and then drizzled with a port jus.<br />
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And the second cheese course of the day did not disappoint-- a trio of goat cheeses from various Mountain villages in the Pyrenees. To finish off a splendid meal and a spectacular day of dining, a mix of fruits topped with tangy, alcoholy zabaglione.<br />
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Marybeth Tamborrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04167818048526169240noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4714949764966715224.post-13396661669543791452014-05-04T22:57:00.000+02:002014-05-04T22:57:15.453+02:00... And I'm Back.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I was right to budget myself a few extra days in the Pyrenees before the group from Yale arrives to prep my appetite. Some of my friends are getting ready for spring time marathons. I'm getting ready for four-course meals ending in cheese courses followed by creme brûlée. To each his own.<br />
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Today my regiment was entirely rewarding and I feel that I am making great progress.<br />
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Back in the Pyrenees I have been welcomed to my usual spot at the dinner table with my two lovely hosts. Never in my life have I eaten so consistently well as when I ate lunch and dinner at this table for six months. Coming back, my hands miss the knifes with handles made of horn, I instinctively remember how to fold my napkin, and I get giddy with excitement when the plates for the cheese course are served.<br />
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I'm back.<br />
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Marybeth Tamborrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04167818048526169240noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4714949764966715224.post-13016860674699801532014-05-03T15:12:00.000+02:002014-05-03T15:12:55.508+02:00A Countdown to France<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Like a true goose I have migrated.<br />
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This year has brought me off to many far away lands on so many improvised journeys that I started to feel like Odysseus: Tossed about more or less around the Mediterranean, from France to mainland Italy and to Sicily; meeting new friends (but no foes); and of course dining and wining splendidly.<br />
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But something about spring gets my feathers itchy to return to the lands of the greener pastures at the foothills of the Pyrenees. I know there, at this time of the year, I will find flowers in bloom; the last bit of snow melting off the tips of the high pyrenees; baby goats, chicks, and lambs; and the richest rounds of goat cheese. I am ready for a lungful of this air.<br />
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And I'm ready for some fat. And fat I will find in the Pyrenees. It will be coated on the beans and plumped in the sausages and sizzling on the duck skin in a bowl of cassoulet. It will be baked into the curves of a fugasse bread. It will be melting in my mouth and radiating in giggles of pleasure contained in the bite of fois gras enterier. It will be crunching in the crackling of pork skin. It will be in the beautiful ripples of cream filling a baba rhum.<br />
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Ah, the Pyrenees and their foods.<br />
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In just a few days I will lead a tour from the Pyrenees Mountains, to the markets of Toulouse, and into the grandest estates of the Bordeaux region. From May 7th - 17th I will be pleased to be in the company of fourteen members of Yale University's Epicurean Society. Our itinerary, designed by me and Lucas, the impressively capable and prepared President of their club, is jam-packed with all the culinary wonders of the southwest. My plan is to spoil silly these kids who have just come off of finals week, with 9 days of the world's best cheeses, glasses of ridiculously good wines, nightly feasts, and more!<br />
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If your appetite can handle it, keep checking in for updates throughout the week.<br />
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Marybeth Tamborrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04167818048526169240noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4714949764966715224.post-72107907573575989782013-01-28T18:49:00.002+01:002013-01-29T11:45:59.071+01:002012, Thank you for a great year! Bring on the next one!<br />
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What a year! It is now well into 2013, and I can comfortably look back on 2012, and exclaim that The Goose in Toulouse has had quite a fantastic year! </div>
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Having the first year completed I want to remark on the growth of The Goose in Toulouse:</div>
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- It's an official, tax-paying business!</div>
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- In the summer of 2012 several "trial" tours took place, providing much needed feedback and polishing</div>
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- The year has been bountiful in research, providing more cheeses, wines, and dishes to taste, and churches, landscapes, and cities to view then could have been expected. </div>
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- In November, 2012 we ran our first official tour with an alumni group from the University of Chicago</div>
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- We've had thousands of blog and website views from all around the globe</div>
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- Looking into 2013, several groups from the US and Europe have expressed interest in organizing tours</div>
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I want to take this time to thank all of you who have been crucial to the developments of 2012.</div>
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Firstly, thank you to <b>Agnes and Stan</b> whose ideas sparked the founding of The Goose in Toulouse and whose generosity, originality, and energy are stitched throughout our creation. Without this family there most certainly would not be a Goose in Toulouse! And thank you to her parents, <b>Madame and Monsieur Bordeau of Hotel Eychenne</b> who became my family. Our daily lunches and dinners at Hotel Eychenne were inspirational for these gastronomic tours. I have learned much (not just for the Goose in Toulouse, but personally) from their elegance, <i>joie de vive</i>, generosity and down-right amazing taste! It is their spirit of hospitality that I wish to share with each and every guest who joins us on a Goose in Toulouse tour. </div>
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Thank you to <b>Sylvie, Directrice of Hotel Eychenne</b>, who tirelessly helped me to meet local farmers and producers; always provided a hand translating; helped me with the daily nitty-gritty work of contacting vendors and negotiating; and provided friendship and hospitality for which I will always feel grateful! Sylvie and <b>Gil</b> provided me encouragement, many great meals, confidence and love, without which life would have been less graced by butterflies in fields of long-grasses with a belly full of garden-fresh foods, and the resources to pick-up and carry on.</div>
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Thank you to <b>Lola Vardigans</b>, a true mentor! Lola's ideas, expertise and suggestions are written all over the future direction of The Goose in Toulouse. She was a crucial co-guide on the UChicago Tour, sharing with us her research on the local resistance movement during WWII, welcoming us into her lovely home Chateau du Bardies, and accompanying us with her knowledge and love of life. Lola is a true inspiration to me: she alone is proof that it is possible to live a life filled with pressing intellectual pursuits; great meals on a table surrounded by company; a tireless desire to learn, question and appreciate; and the courage and confidence to grab a hold of life and let one's self adventure! </div>
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Thank you to <b>Stephen Bolger, COO of Chateau Lynch-Bages and founder of Crushpad France</b>, for the collaboration and organization, particularly during the November tour. Stephen is a true innovator! It has been a pleasure to work with him, and I look forward to another year of more visits. </div>
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Thank you to <b>Jean Moueix, Elisabeth, and the Berrouet Family of Petrus</b> for opening doors for me in Bordeaux and for the enlightening visits. I cannot wait to work with you more in the upcoming year! </div>
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Thank you to <b>Chris Freemont</b> who has fed my passions for good eating, and who gave me the encouragement to try. His impeccable taste, knowledge, conversations, ideas and support have been immeasurably inspiring. I'm still waiting for him to come out here and co-host these tours-- there is no better person in the world to share a meal with! </div>
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Thanks to <b>my parents</b> for the endless scanning, mailing and driving around States-side. And to my sister <b>Tracy</b> who was always ready to give advice, listen to ideas, and provide contacts. </div>
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Thanks to<b> Gleb Kozyritsky</b> for always offering a helping hand! To <b>Kara Mallia</b> for the blog advice and encouragement. And to <b>Analisa Lafontant</b> for the encouragement, helpfulness, and cheese!</div>
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Thank you to the<b> Hotel Eychenne kitchen</b> for the great meals and cooking lessons. You have spoiled me silly! Life will never consistently taste so good. </div>
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Thank you to <b>Federico</b> for the support, sacrifices and encouragement. In more ways than I immediately realized you have given me the drive to keep at The Goose in Toulouse. </div>
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Thank you to every farmer, cheese maker, cow herder, boudin noir-maker, escargot raiser, cheese refiner, market stall keeper, oyster harvester, enologist, waiter, sommelier, izard hunter, chef, and dining companion who has given me so many memorable meals and pleasurable tastes. Life has been a dream! I can't wait to share the fruits of your labors with more people. </div>
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Marybeth Tamborrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04167818048526169240noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4714949764966715224.post-33138765579380850372012-11-01T16:17:00.001+01:002012-11-01T16:28:28.533+01:00The prehistoric caves of the Ariege<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
You've heard of the caves of the South West of France. You've seen the photos of the bison drawn in black on the walls of stone. Most likely you have heard of the caves of Lascaux, in the Dordogne, closed to the public. But the caves of the Ariege in the Pyrenees, though less known, are equally worth knowing about.<br />
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In the Ariege I've started to learn when I think I am coming near to caves: the land suddenly becomes rockier, with outcrops of white stone in the grass. There is a feeling that it would be difficult to find mushrooms.<br />
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Certainly the best cave to visit is Niaux, with paintings as impressive as those at Lascaux, this is the only prehistoric cave currently open to the public (though with limited access). Participants carry torches, as they make their way through the caves that are stunning for their own geological beauty. All together the network of caves at Niaux make up 13km. The tour of the caves leads participants through the opening deep into the cave into the "black chamber", a room with terrific acoustic qualities where the best of the paintings are found.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNurNleLoJOkYIG40WGBRHwFd7LB8rEZ7SXS36cMZoHKK4bO8f3-LAvw-H8Sdt8WhYNvqsUtOe7rQuSMDh1HNsCrbxzGzIjyC6Fi9JMX5arjueabS5NxzXDFC01JOMBATdgw9jeGg78bYp/s1600/CF010258.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="418" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNurNleLoJOkYIG40WGBRHwFd7LB8rEZ7SXS36cMZoHKK4bO8f3-LAvw-H8Sdt8WhYNvqsUtOe7rQuSMDh1HNsCrbxzGzIjyC6Fi9JMX5arjueabS5NxzXDFC01JOMBATdgw9jeGg78bYp/s1600/CF010258.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Unfortunately, for this post, I have no images to add, since photography is strictly forbidden inside of the caves in an effort to reduce the damage done to the paintings by visits.<br />
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Mas d'Azil, less renown for the quality of their paintings, is perhaps one of the most stunning drives imaginable (and perhaps the most exciting of the Tour de France!). The road, following the Arize River, goes right through the very caves that the river has carved thousands of years ago. In the car (or in my case, on the bicycle) you are literally speeding through a massive, 500 meter long prehistoric cave! The air is cold and damp, and flocks of birds cawed at the entrance, flying in and out of its nooks. There are no visible signs of cave paintings in this main cave, though there are many signatures on the walls of more contemporary dating.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Biking into the entrance of the cave</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">Inside of the Cave the road is lit with lights. It was impossible to capture the enormity of the chamber to my left</td></tr>
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While in the Ariege it is worth taking a drive through Mas d'Azil, as they are truly stunning, and the country side nearby is equally worth viewing.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">In the town of Mas d'Azil</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">And now for the secret. Perhaps the most important archeological cave art is a cave that I had never heard of: <span style="background-color: white; line-height: 18px; text-align: -webkit-auto;">Tuc d'Audoubert cave at the entrance of the Trois Freres Cave in Montesquieu-Avantés. </span><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 18px; text-align: -webkit-auto;">Tuc d'Audoubert</span> is the only known prehistoric cave with three dimensional artwork, in other words, sculpture! The cave was discovered in the early 20th century by Henri Begouen. The letter written by the discoverer is fantastic to read: he describes chipping away stone to make his way into the cave network, discovering the death bed of a bear, and finally discovering the sculpture: two bisons made of un-cooked clay, which Begouen </span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">describes as unbaked gingerbread cookies. A woman I know who has entered these privately owned caves claimed that the sculpture was absolutely moving: you could still see the thumb prints of the people who worked the clay so beautifully during the Ice Age. The cave boasts 350 figures, mostly bison and horses, as well as 7 humans / part humans, 1 rhino and even 1 grasshopper! </span></div>
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*Please note that any photo of cave art or cave maps are not my own and I do not have the rights to them. They are just to give you an idea of the artwork.<br />
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Marybeth Tamborrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04167818048526169240noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4714949764966715224.post-49178420135738446962012-11-01T14:47:00.002+01:002012-11-01T14:48:08.247+01:00October: The Most Beautiful Month Yet <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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October has raised the skies; the humidity of the summer has parted, and we've enjoyed consistent, crisp days. But, what's swooned me by October is her light. Long shadows are contrasted by saturated hues. And a sky so crisp and blue has emerged behind the hills and Mountains, like the cloth curtain in the background of a Dutch painting that steals the glory of the fruit in the foreground.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirGOo64JySrFe-wLZ3MqQ490nlHTO4OhOj_cC5gBV03LTeiK0tNWQA-9oDIGrMCK22pxVkgGaZ0FwdPzRlj5KgBiqTkYYtCGv_ZaaU5W0Cm1r7ZE4Zxb2gZCA8XHFyCyPDC3vnNpFOYsuv/s1600/IMG_4072.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirGOo64JySrFe-wLZ3MqQ490nlHTO4OhOj_cC5gBV03LTeiK0tNWQA-9oDIGrMCK22pxVkgGaZ0FwdPzRlj5KgBiqTkYYtCGv_ZaaU5W0Cm1r7ZE4Zxb2gZCA8XHFyCyPDC3vnNpFOYsuv/s1600/IMG_4072.jpg" width="300" /></a>Last week, the car I had been using went to the shop for a standard checkup that ended up taking a week! What seemed like a negative, turned out to be advantageous, as it finally gave me the excuse to get off my lazy bones and put myself smack in the middle of gorgeous landscapes, taking in the views all the more appreciatively after having peddled up to them. </div>
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This region of France is famous for hosting the highest routes of the Tour de France. Hundreds of cycle groups come to the Ariege annually to try out these daring routes for themselves. I did no such routes. I did not climb to the high cols. But after a day of peddling up and down somewhat steep and always hilly land, I could certainly feel it in my thighs!<br />
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Mid-way through the month the dark-green high Pyrenees in the background turned bright white with the first snow. They were beautiful green, but they are truly captivating when white: they command you to stop and gaze. With the bright blue October sky, the white mountains gleamed. Now, at the start of November, we are watching as the first of the leaves on the green hills begin to turn hues of yellow and red.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_4qF9TGDQfpvcxEu0sBXnRGcv3VX0eDxqCCQXLcn6H1-scdYoV2py0805ZcdGfww2_LXyuBG0BPVP_zcrqzFT-Ah38r9w4_yzsXxvFbV0qw_LXcN5662BHuaerkllyltMTolWX4O0AcFc/s1600/IMG_3896.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_4qF9TGDQfpvcxEu0sBXnRGcv3VX0eDxqCCQXLcn6H1-scdYoV2py0805ZcdGfww2_LXyuBG0BPVP_zcrqzFT-Ah38r9w4_yzsXxvFbV0qw_LXcN5662BHuaerkllyltMTolWX4O0AcFc/s1600/IMG_3896.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Making my way back after a long day of cycling 41 km (oddly, uphill both ways!)</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Church of Riuebach along the D119 has what looks like 13 little churches on the hill side behind the main church. Upon walking up to them, each chapel commemorates one of the Stations of the Cross.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The famous Crustages of Clermont, a thin pie type desert made of a flaky pastry crust and jam of various fruits</td></tr>
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Marybeth Tamborrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04167818048526169240noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4714949764966715224.post-36196255952635114322012-10-22T16:37:00.000+02:002012-12-08T13:18:06.943+01:00Vieux Chateau Saint Andre: The wines of the Berrouet Family<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span class="s1">Off a winding, narrow road that passes through the indistinct, small hamlet of </span>Saint-Georges in the vicinity of Saint Emilion, there is a gate. Were it not for spotting a young man with the exact same face as I had seen earlier that day during my visit to Petrus, I would have thought that I was entirely lost.<br />
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Vieux Château Saint Andre is the property owned by the Berrouet family. Jean-Claude Berrouet was the producer of Petrus for 45 vintages, starting at the young age of 22 when Jean-Pierre Moueix (owner of Petrus) appointed the young winemaker. Their combination has made Petrus into the wine it is today. I wanted to meet the man whose hands are responsible for producing several of the best wines in the Bordeaux region (Petrus, the Moueix owned vineyards, Dominus in California and even his own small wine in the Pyrenees mountains in the Basque country, his home region). His oldest son, Olivier, has now filled his father's shoes as the director of Petrus, while his younger son, Jeff, manages Vieux Château Saint Andre. </div>
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Jean-Claude Berrouet is humble, kind, interested, generous, and extremely knowledgeable. I came away from the visit with the strong feeling that I had met a truly great man. He is easy to talk to, and with him I had the most fruitful and natural conversation about wine. Not seeking to judge and with no need to impress, a conversation with Berrouet is honest. </div>
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Berrouet asked us, "do you you like to drink wine?". I quickly responded, "of course". But only after, I realized the importance of this question. Wine for many is status, wealth, a touristic visit in France, an emblem of cultural capital. It is a very good question: do you <i>like</i> wine. Berrouet spoke for himself, with no value judgements. I understood that wine for him is a matter of the pleasure of drinking it. </div>
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Jeff, who manages the property, led our tour, occasionally looking to his father to field a question. His father graciously encouraged him: it was a bit like I was watching the torch being passed on. </div>
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Not unsurprisingly, the Berrouets are using the same techniques to produce this Merlot wine as he is using at Petrus (see my article on Petrus for the technicals). He explained the philosophy that Elisabeth at Petrus repeatedly emphasized: Merlot must be handled delicately. Concrete tanks are used for the fermentation. Slowly and carefully, the wine in the tanks is poured off at the bottom to be re-added at the top, so that the wine will have contact with the skin and pulp layer that naturally rises to the top of the tanks. There is no mushing or stirring. Everything is done gently. </div>
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Like at Petrus, the wines are aged in typically about 50% new oak, thus creating a wine where the grapes and not the wood take the forefront in taste. </div>
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Jean-Claude explained that everyday (my visit was on September 10th, 2012) they are tasting the wines for the maturity of the grapes. He explained that there is a peak of maturity: if picked to early you end up with a "green" taste. If the grapes are picked too late you have, and he struggled for the word, snapping his fingers and looking at me for help, "what's that the americans say… 'ammy?' 'gamy'"? He asked. Wincing with the failure of not understanding, I nearly gave up, before I recalled… "jammy!". "Yes," he carried on "if picked too late the wines have a <i>jammy</i> taste. It's important that they are picked at the right moment. This you can tell by tasting the berries." </div>
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I found it interesting that he used this word 'jammy', as it is so trendy now to have 'jammy' wines. I also found it interesting that this new word for him was on the tip of his tongue after returning from California that very morning. American restaurant servers love this word and use it frequently, and they are right to do so, as so many wine-lists are stocking these 'jammy wines'. </div>
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Stepping out on a limb I said, "It's funny you should use the word jammy. Perhaps it's just me, but I find that now, especially with Californian wines, there are so many jammy wines. It's quite in fashion in the states, at least." As a side note I added, "To me this is terrible." </div>
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Jeff his son laughed and nodded in agreement. And his father stepped forward with his pointer-finger raised. "It's interesting you should say that," he said beaming. "There are two reasons for this. Firstly the sweet taste is the first we like. Think of children: when we are children, we all like sweet things. Then, for some people, as we get older we start to like some of the other flavors. Secondly, the mouth. The sweet taste is on the tip of the tongue," he said motioning to his mouth. "The acid on the sides, the bitter in the back. When journalists go to taste wines they are tasting hundreds in a sitting. You cannot distinguish a wine after taste number twenty-one. So what are they tasting? The wines that are standing out are ones with a lot of sweetness which is noticed first in the mouth. The pleasure of the bitterness of wine comes on the finish. If you are tasting so many wines, you do not have time for the finish. And so, these sweet wines get high scores, and have become popular to people who value such scoring." </div>
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This explains a lot.</div>
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In the barrel room, Jean-Claude described that they source from 6 different coopers, handpicking the right barrels. After years of wine making Jean-Claude says that all barrels are slightly different. Like the grapes themselves, some years the trees are better than others. </div>
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Jeff opened his bottle on a table beside an old-fashioned sink, which Jean-Claude proudly pointed out, with a youthful fascination with this time-honored action of washing the hands. Jeff meticulously smelled the wine, swirled it in the glass, and then poured the wine into all three glasses before throwing it down the drain. He then poured three nice glasses. We saluted. </div>
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<span id="goog_1712700687"></span><span id="goog_1712700688"></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoQSk6O48nJuOcs5pBx0FVAjT85U2_kCA1LpJ8DRlSPOpmH1HRTZF8oS6Qq91a0_DWTvGXOPDUZ9e4117uC1iQs7l7e5m-U2Drf1TC-DaHh5b0HPSILJLQAsfUwLU7iHyu1pfyVRUmWfvU/s1600/IMG_3451.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoQSk6O48nJuOcs5pBx0FVAjT85U2_kCA1LpJ8DRlSPOpmH1HRTZF8oS6Qq91a0_DWTvGXOPDUZ9e4117uC1iQs7l7e5m-U2Drf1TC-DaHh5b0HPSILJLQAsfUwLU7iHyu1pfyVRUmWfvU/s1600/IMG_3451.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
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The style is very elegant. Nothing jumps out at you. It is not overly fruity, nor dry, nor tannic, nor woody. It's balanced. It's all of these things. The tannins are long and dry. The mouth is full and soft, with some taste of dark berries, chalk, stone. And the finish is pleasurable. Overall, it is an extremely elegant, supple, silky wine with exceptionally balanced fruit and structure. In its qualities and style, I could taste that it was made similarly to Petrus (yes, it lacks the nuance flavors, that incomparable velvety texture, and the rockstar finish, but this is nonetheless a quality wine). It too has a beautiful potential to age. This is a bottle to have on the table, with good food, and to drink with friends.<br />
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At 11Euro a bottle, I took home a case of 2009/2010 wines. Generously, he also gifted me a bottle of his Herri Mina, which he explained means "homesick". It was chosen in reference to the Homer's Odyssey and because it is made in Berrouet's home region in the Pays Basque Country, for which he feels nostalgia. </div>
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I asked Jean-Claude how long the Chateaux Saint Andre should age for. He laughed. "I laugh now when people ask me this," he said. "Perhaps I asked it too once. You want to know how long it can age? Perhaps 30 years. Perhaps more. But I know this wine-style, and it's definitely capable of 30. But me, I am not. And so I don't care anymore. The more important question is when should I drink it, and the answer is in 10 years." </div>
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The frown I made when he said this was sincere. After a short visit, his kindness and greatness was astounding. I cared for him. Perhaps it's just my sentimentality, but in the wine I tasted on his property, his own gentleness, conviviality and elegance comes through. And each bottle I open in ten years I will toast to him. </div>
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Thank you, Jean-Claude, Olivier and Jeff Berrouet! </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me (center), beside Jean Claude Berrouet (left) and his son Jeff (right)</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Vieux Chateau Saint Andre's view of the vineyards and town church</td></tr>
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Marybeth Tamborrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04167818048526169240noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4714949764966715224.post-36724414825159478852012-10-15T15:28:00.002+02:002013-01-29T00:32:42.237+01:00Petrus<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Petrus.</div>
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It's as good as you hoped it wouldn't be. </div>
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Its air of exclusivity and understatement speak loudly. It need not throw open the doors of a grand Chateau to visitors, firstly, because it simply doesn't have one, but more importantly that's just not their style. Enough is said simply with the word "Petrus". A little pit of envy has hardened in the stomach, and illusions of Billionaires begin to lounge in the mind. But once we get past the price tag of its reputation, most wine drinkers are left with the question: is it really that good?</div>
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Yes.</div>
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And when we enter Petrus (mind you through a gate, and <i>not </i>the doors of a Chateau) we learn precisely why.</div>
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I am impressed: not just with the wine, but with the entire visit to Petrus. </div>
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Firstly, there is Elisabeth, the ambassador to Petrus who led me and two NY lawyers through the grounds. Elisabeth, also from the NY region, led us with a casual elegance. She was brilliant. She had the finesse of communication like a great teacher. Concise, clear, and informative, Elisabeth shared the ins and outs of the process of wine making at Petrus. Elisabeth's energy and clarity, bring a joy to discussing the technical details. I've never had a more thought-provoking and thorough tour of a vineyard. </div>
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We started outside. </div>
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The name "Petrus" derives from the word 'rock', which in one way or another was chosen as Petrus is situated on top of a very unique hill, the highest elevation on the Pomerol plateau. When you're actually at Petrus, it's difficult to make out this hill, which at its peak is about 45cm high. But it's not this altitude in particular that makes the difference (though it does help provide natural drainage); it's the soil beneath this hill that Petrus attributes to the quality of their wines. The soil is uniquely clay; and not just any clay. After just 5 or 6 inches of top soil is to layers of clay: the first is several inches of dark clay, and then underneath the precious, impermeable clay not found in any other wine region in the world. The clay is approximately 40 million years old. The clay does several things: 1. It forces the roots to grow horizontally rather than vertically, which helps to keep the soil and the plant evenly watered. 2. Retains moisture in the teeny gaps in the clay, which the plant continues to use during the dry summer months, and 3. Adds minerals which happen to add structure and complexity to the generally more delicate, fruity Merlot grape. This divine clay hill is almost entirely owned by Petrus, making it have a uniquely perfect terroir for the cultivation of Merlot. It is this unique terroir that adds such depth to the grape, that has allowed the 'Chateau' to throw open their doors to invite other wine makers to learn from their tactics, because, simply, they know no one else will have this soil to compete. </div>
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Small in comparison to the spacious Medoc vineyards, Petrus is only 11.5 hectares, 11 of which are planted with Merlot and the rest with Cabernet Franc. Although they do grow some Cab. Franc, this is not often added to the wine; most years Petrus is 100% Merlot. </div>
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Jean-Claude Berrouet is the now retired wine maker of Petrus for the past 45 vintages (whose son is now Director of Petrus). He was appointed winemaker at the age of 22, by JP Moueix. The pair have built the wine into the renown brand of today. Berrouet, who also consults for several top right bank properties as well as Dominus in California and his own vineyard in the Pays Basque Country, told me that Petrus has truly exceptional terroir, and even within their land some of the individual rows are singularly phenomenal. </div>
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On my visit through Petrus, I found myself hearing over and over again about the specific properties of the Merlot grape. It seems that not only have the winemakers at Petrus gone out of their way to understand this grape to a science, but then they have pampered and meticulously cultivated their vines to bring out this best expression possible. (To learn more about the wine makers, Monsieur Jean-Claude Berrouet and his son Olivier, now the director of Petrus, visit my blog entry on Vieux Chateau Saint Andre.)</div>
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Different vineyards have different strategies for the upkeep of their vines. Firstly, Petrus has started to clone their own vines when they routinely need to plant new vines (the average vine age is 40 years old). Of course, like all of Bordeaux, the root stock is 100% American (as American roots were resistant to the phylloxera pests that destroyed European roots in the 19th century… the American root stocks are resistant because the pesky bugs themselves are American. Today French vineyards graft the old french vine species, <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vitis_vinifera"><i>Vitis vinifera</i></a><i>, </i>onto the American root stock, such as<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vitis_aestivalis"><i>Vitis aestivalis</i></a>). </div>
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Many vineyards arch the vines from which the grapes hang, but Petrus has found that they prefer to nudge this vine into as straight a line as possible. To do this takes many gradual adjustments. Petrus does partake in an extensive green harvest, which is the trimming of the green leaves that cover the grapes. The leaves are helpful, as they protect the grapes from getting a sunburn, but allowing them to grow too wildly will take away energy from the plant that would be better directed toward the grapes. Likewise just select<b> </b>bundles of grapes are allowed to grow per vine, the others trimmed off to concentrate the plant's energies into the better bundles. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Doors inside of Petrus with the signature keys of Saint Peter</td></tr>
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Unlike some left bank properties which have a topsoil heavily peppered with granite stones, Petrus leaves just a few scattered stones around. Elisabeth explained that too many white, granite stones actually burn the delicate Merlot grapes. She gestured to the row beside the granite walkway and noted that this row perennially experiences over-exposure to the sun. </div>
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Merlot is finicky, and timing is essential. Firstly, it is extremely important that the grapes flower simultaneously. If they're not flowering together this can throw off the timing on the grape development, and finally a consistent harvest. Everyday in the beginning of September, Berrouet is out in the fields tasting the grapes to determine when they have reached their optimal ripeness. This progress is charted. There becomes a point when, Berrouet explained, the grapes have reached their perfection: if picked too early they are left with a green, unripe taste; if picked too late they have a "jammy" taste (see Vieux Chateau Saint Andre). If you go out into the vineyards and you taste a grape, you can tell if it's nearly ready by if the seeds are quite crunchy as you bite, and when the flesh of the grape doesn't attach to the seeds. For days preparing up to the moment when the Berrouet's and the Moueix's declare the grapes are ready a team of harvesters are awaiting the call to action. Elisabeth explained that the harvesters at Petrus are nearly always the same people at each harvest and often wine professionals. The harvest sounded quite fun in my opinion, with days of collective eating and festivities following up to the harvest. The harvest itself must be done quite quickly, and usually within 48hours. Again, this is due the finicky Merlot grape: there's a small window of time for the grapes' moment of perfection, and at a vineyard producing wine of the quality of Petrus, each must be at perfection.</div>
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After the grapes are harvested and sorted (Petrus is now using the color sorting machines), the grapes go into concrete tanks. Yes, concrete. Not wood, not stainless steal, but concrete. I'm not sure who started the trend of putting Merlot into concrete fermentation tanks (it could very well have been Petrus), but it's certainly taken the right bank and even some vineyards on the left bank by a storm. Both Elisabeth and Berrouet stressed that concrete is a more stable substance for Merlot, as the magnetic fields on stainless steel can alter the wines. Concrete, on the other hand, does not have this magnetism, and provides stable temperatures. Because concrete is slightly basic, it must be sprayed with Tartaric Acid to neutralize the walls before the grapes are added. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Inside of the tanks. The streaks on the wall are the acid stains.</td></tr>
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Once in the fermentation tanks, the key is to try to bring the grape into as little contact with oxygen as possible while making sure that the juice of the grape comes into contact with the solids (skins, seeds, etc.). Again, here is another aspect in which Merlot is finicky: it must avoid contact with oxygen. Berrouet explained that they slowly drain the wine from the bottom of the tanks and to add back to the top (where the solids are floating). Slowly, and gradually, the wine is turned in this manner to assure that the liquid has gotten plenty of contact with the flavorful solids. The wine is aged for 18-20 months in French oak barrels. </div>
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On touring Petrus, you will be surprised to see how simple the facilities are. The fermentation room is pleasant: it has the feel of a working farm, simply painted concrete tanks. The double doors are marked with the signature of Petrus, two crossed keys, which are the keys of Saint Peter, better known as the gates of heaven. This symbol was chosen by Petrus by <span class="s1">Lily Lacoste,</span> who owned nearly all of the shares of Petrus, who played upon the reference of Petrus and Saint Peter, and claimed that the quality of wine was so good, drinking it was an entrance through the gates of heaven. Walking through such doors one enters the small aging room, filled with red-striped wooden barrels. It smells good here: the air is dry, the scent of french oak is strong. It was here that we stopped to taste Petrus.</div>
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The 2011 Petrus is 100% Merlot, and is said to be notably more delicate than previous vintages. Elisabeth noted that the bottle is extremely young, and will continue to develop structure and concentration as it ages. Both Elisabeth and one of our companions (who had visited Petrus just months before) noted that in only a few months this structure is beginning to form. But here's what I thought. </div>
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I am not a scientist wine drinker. I do not swish vigorously, and then run through a checklist of qualities in my mind before I can determine it's quality. I simply smell and taste. I know if a wine is of superior quality by one reason: by the third sip, has the warmth of happiness radiated out from my stomach throughout all of my limbs and is it trying to escape through my mouth in contained squeals of delight? Petrus made me happy. </div>
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To the nose, Petrus was a delight. What amazed me about Petrus was the texture. I'd never before had a wine that had this magician-in-the-mouth qualities. Upon first sip it was noticeably light and clean. Flavors of fruit, boysenberry, and a bit of earth were twirled around; and then somehow, mid-sip, as I bounced it on my tongue it started to develop a silky, meaty texture. It was the texture of having a beautiful slice of O-toro on the tongue! The same silky, velvety (is it appropriate to say…) fats, were melting in my mouth. And this was wine. And here at this stage came the dark flavors of spice, stone delicate wood. And the tannins began to play on the insides of my cheeks. And it all occurred so effortlessly, so balanced, and extremely elegantly. And these tastes which came into being on mid-sip, just grew stronger and stronger in harmony and stayed in my mouth bounding off of the happiness radiating from my stomach for a finish that just continued.</div>
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Marybeth Tamborrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04167818048526169240noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4714949764966715224.post-53649125834173885652012-10-12T22:05:00.002+02:002012-10-12T22:05:51.990+02:00The Snail Man: escargot<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Some people have true passions; and a rare percent of these people are able to eek out a living on these passions. Such is Marco, a man in the south west of France who lives life gloriously in pursuit of what is clearly his love and passion: snails.</div>
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Just a few kilometers north of Saint Girons is the little Hamlet, Barjac. I had heard often of the escargot farm here in Barjac (la Ferme aux escargots de Barjac), one of only two escargot farms in the region. </div>
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Feeling adventurous, I decided to bike to Barjac. Yesterday was a perfect autumn day here in Saint Girons: the weather was a pleasant 70 degrees, the sun was still warm, and the air was crisp. The road led me over many hills (as my thighs are feeling today), and past rolling green pasture land where dairy and beef cows stared at me inquisitively. Hawks would beat their grand wings in ascent from wooden fence posts and let the warm air glide them over the valley. </div>
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When I descended into Barjac, I was greeted by a pleasant man. With a jovial smile, on a stout and strong frame, Marco welcomed us to his farm, restaurant and museum. He started by taking us outside where there was a large square garden covered in grasses. Marco explained that he owns 6 such plots, all lined with a miniature electric fence to keep the snails happily grazing on their combination of 5 types of grasses. All together he produces roughly 350,000 snails per year (after the large number which are eaten by predators such as pigeons, mice, hedgehogs, and oddly lightening bugs). He demonstrated each of these animals by flinging back a curtain like a magician to reveal a display of stuffed and plastic animals-- all of which feast on his snails.<br />
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He explained that they only sell mature snails, in order to give snails time to reproduce. A mature snail will reproduce about 6 times a season. He explained that one can tell the difference between the adults and children by wether or not their shells have formed a little upturned ridge near the opening for their heads. A mature snail will have such a "helmet". </div>
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Using a black board and chalk, and paper diagrams, Marco explained how snails reproduce. Snails are hermaphrodites. During reproduction two mature snails will intertwine. Each open up a hole in the side of their heads, and each insert a reproductive organ into the other, continuing to slowly spin in intertwinement. It's really quite beautiful. Several of his baby snails get sent off to Italy, Spain, other parts of France and even Lithuania. </div>
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A snail in nature can need up to two years to reach maturity because they spend so long "inactive". It greenhouses, where the temperature and moisture are kept consistent, snails can mature within 3 months. Marco uses a combination, bringing the snails inside during the cold winter months, and his snails mature after about 6 months. </div>
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Marco then led us past his restaurant-- a charming spot with great views on the countryside, where one can call in advance to come for dinner. For larger groups they offer two menus, an Ariege menu with grilled snails, boudin, pork chops, sausage, pate, an aperitif and wine; or a Catalonian menu with 3 styles of Catalonian snails. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDNlUie5fxSv3RzOxu9x4uEjWirHEcLmFFAI-7jKBPgwt5UzifYVjFoVznbHtBJr3Fh5lCczlZOI4RZAjvBNiy590tKsvQsuNbs2OdWF_lnaIrfGtI_AtfYHQEoQg2oQA2L7BHx4-glz2w/s1600/IMG_3659.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDNlUie5fxSv3RzOxu9x4uEjWirHEcLmFFAI-7jKBPgwt5UzifYVjFoVznbHtBJr3Fh5lCczlZOI4RZAjvBNiy590tKsvQsuNbs2OdWF_lnaIrfGtI_AtfYHQEoQg2oQA2L7BHx4-glz2w/s1600/IMG_3659.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLLwaJbF8dAMcAyMtOecMSMuXHuikM_Eg8P9BVo7h_2SceEeK9B80lgQ0wMXbnmW3Q8V8FwDBGWCb3hwLemEFRhTMJGlF56vSuYCDQbhdFTFmJW07X_3Q7RqmU_xFDIbhAGQ7H5WD727WY/s1600/IMG_3657.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLLwaJbF8dAMcAyMtOecMSMuXHuikM_Eg8P9BVo7h_2SceEeK9B80lgQ0wMXbnmW3Q8V8FwDBGWCb3hwLemEFRhTMJGlF56vSuYCDQbhdFTFmJW07X_3Q7RqmU_xFDIbhAGQ7H5WD727WY/s1600/IMG_3657.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a>Above his restaurant is a snail museum! Marco has collected everything related to snails for the past 14 years. He has a collection of shells from all over the world. Escargo eating utensils, toy snails, books about snails, ceramic snails, paintings of snails, a snail obstacle course and even a snail race track! He tenderly picked up several items to share the story about how he had acquired them. </div>
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Anyone who has ever touched a snail before knows they are quite slimy creatures, and as may be expected this slime is not the most appetizing. To consume snails, they must fast for several days in a dry environment. After several days, they loose most of their mucus, and are ready for consumption. </div>
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I decided to try my luck cooking snails, and so I purchased 100 live snails. </div>
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Firstly, it was difficult to even come across a recipe for how to prepare live snails. Every recipe I encountered called for canned snails. After preparing the live snails, I understood why. Live snails are a pain to cook. </div>
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They must first be dropped into not-quite-boiling water for 4 minutes (cover the lid, as the scene is quite tragic to watch). The water must be drained, because it will be full of any remaining mucus. The snails then go into a vegetable broth, where they must be bathed for about 45 minutes to tenderize. We made a butter, shallot, garlic, anchovy and lemon butter. Ideally, the butter should be placed in the shell of each snail, and then popped into the oven for several minutes for the snails to absorb the buttery taste. </div>
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Marybeth Tamborrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04167818048526169240noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4714949764966715224.post-89645359327212135262012-09-14T20:51:00.002+02:002014-09-25T17:54:23.982+02:00Cheval Blanc<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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I felt like I was in a New York gallery. Sleek. Ultra-modern. Overwhelmingly sexy. And tingling with creativity and energy. </div>
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This is Cheval Blanc.<br />
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A teacher of mine during University had praised Karl Marx's <i>Capital</i> for being a unique exemplar of a book whose form and structure (that is, the way it was written), actually enhances and supports the the arguments and the ideas that are produced. I came away from Cheval Blanc with a mouth still panting from excitement from a finish that just didn't stop, and a mind absolutely impressed with the experience of the visit to Cheval Blanc. I learned that the same principal holds for wine and the space that we drink it in. Our senses are inseparable. When a harmony exists amongst the senses, the unified whole of the experience is perfected and brought to its maximum. Cheval Blanc's brand, spanking new $20,000,000 showroom, cellar, and fermentation room was the architectural embodiment of the wine. It was the structure that underlined the principals of its product. </div>
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We were greeted by Stephanie, a woman who exuded calmness and elegance. Like old friends to her home, she showed us around. The visit was nonchalant. In no rush, Stephanie gave us the time she knew was needed for our dropped jaws and wide eyes to come back to normal in each space we stepped into before she started her explanation. </div>
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The first buildings of Chateau Cheval Blanc are traditional, and are now used as an office space, occasionally as guest rooms, and frequently for hosting parties.<br />
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Walking under an old stone archway, one changes from the 16th century into the 21st. It's shocking. And this abruptness is so pleasurable.<br />
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The new space boasts large glass windows to show off the fact that the building is situated in the midst of one of the world's greatest vineyards. And why shouldn't it? And, better yet, why haven't other Chateaux thought of this?</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDm8XHnVlEsUYaLiQiP3qcNpY935nlss6RAgV9kYVa4vZE0ntH9oSoDuy7picjn1Of2F4yr-9ik5L7CtzQMwMUj_1nLmEsinlQFVkusVcrKj7MXiVFdOZSWBNP7nWxIB-JhIDsXrMhhXx7/s1600/IMG_3507.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDm8XHnVlEsUYaLiQiP3qcNpY935nlss6RAgV9kYVa4vZE0ntH9oSoDuy7picjn1Of2F4yr-9ik5L7CtzQMwMUj_1nLmEsinlQFVkusVcrKj7MXiVFdOZSWBNP7nWxIB-JhIDsXrMhhXx7/s640/IMG_3507.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNZ8nh0qnfDr_tOWBHg3DD_yMhVxVVImSH_CQuPcWOWXNkJ0VF4h62_MgGVzrhyJ971jwu5wkSt2vyOTR2n19gIuYwYV7sGPUgru9zT82-mMPvVmaTIsxt01Mg0vJsf61gZBj8laYebuYv/s1600/IMG_3511.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNZ8nh0qnfDr_tOWBHg3DD_yMhVxVVImSH_CQuPcWOWXNkJ0VF4h62_MgGVzrhyJ971jwu5wkSt2vyOTR2n19gIuYwYV7sGPUgru9zT82-mMPvVmaTIsxt01Mg0vJsf61gZBj8laYebuYv/s400/IMG_3511.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Harvest space. Now empty, in two weeks it will be bustling with machines and people. </td></tr>
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Stepping into the fermentation room is like stepping into a religious sanctuary. Really. The silent, noble concrete vats wait like Pacific-island stone statues. Designed in Venice specifically for Cheval Blanc, the concrete vats are truly unique. These are some thick vats, to control and protect the wines, and also to hide the technology within the walls. Unlike every other concrete vat I've seen, at Cheval Blanc there is no central coil within to control temperatures. All of the technology is hidden, as is the case with the entire building (a problem when trying to use the elevators). The space is built of concrete with large, windows bringing in light. It feels like a museum. Each vat has a name tag with it's number, year, and grape content. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWDB7ozsfTxjyfBa7ITD6crqbsKCAaJJ_d_cBcM7QE7RK4Thm-lk7M7sGuzcnQq6Pdkt7qrXMn1wFtHwx-SL2nuMs4aWEPuYGnWecYy6KUjPcPbBYBt1X2CEatYEUZpB23vIUctpCoD_lA/s1600/IMG_3508.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWDB7ozsfTxjyfBa7ITD6crqbsKCAaJJ_d_cBcM7QE7RK4Thm-lk7M7sGuzcnQq6Pdkt7qrXMn1wFtHwx-SL2nuMs4aWEPuYGnWecYy6KUjPcPbBYBt1X2CEatYEUZpB23vIUctpCoD_lA/s400/IMG_3508.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiThgeOYOng1Df1BrUhosHfbgnss9k36Lo8hwtoUl31tAB68HV-rLdwH_gvfB7786iewm6A1W4AQPHmlX_C2NR5wZokXpCOYPdrZgn8VUh7wMFt81odtTf7xtwLog5GiNa9s2jzblVo0eoN/s1600/IMG_3509.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiThgeOYOng1Df1BrUhosHfbgnss9k36Lo8hwtoUl31tAB68HV-rLdwH_gvfB7786iewm6A1W4AQPHmlX_C2NR5wZokXpCOYPdrZgn8VUh7wMFt81odtTf7xtwLog5GiNa9s2jzblVo0eoN/s400/IMG_3509.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a><br />
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Walking through the altar erected in honor of fermentation, one comes to a stairway. From the top it looks industrial. You don't expect anything. And then you start to descend. And midway down the steps you catch your breath. Soft lights hang from the ceiling providing sophistication, like the transmittance of light from a pearl earring dangling at the neckline. There in the basement is the most stunning cellar I have ever seen. A crypt? A center of worship? When the glass doors open, the visitor smells the scent of 100% new oak barrels in a room which is light, spacious, and a pleasure. It is silent. The barrels are posited in curves under the dangling lights. One wants to spend time here. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyDkDe6jU5kKeZFD7hSwLACbXhrFkkVoD_t5k0vTCqfoS7NwvwQ_hhROu9-EOWBg_8lmwvELKyFvZIWRGV-72XQwKxLknV9392dilgVndas5sJ-hZPu_TvS7MW7JK5OLF1Osc8z69c4onj/s1600/IMG_3518.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyDkDe6jU5kKeZFD7hSwLACbXhrFkkVoD_t5k0vTCqfoS7NwvwQ_hhROu9-EOWBg_8lmwvELKyFvZIWRGV-72XQwKxLknV9392dilgVndas5sJ-hZPu_TvS7MW7JK5OLF1Osc8z69c4onj/s400/IMG_3518.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLEwXQDoGkfhbEh8Tu5iVwGgEZnUixTRSwxxzJcz5DqTL4Xe-YALa-hzGqTOJqhFLikKpSm2A59FD6EIybto02Qfq6CvLa6zVkbpGdQ8IWl88KpeTM4FeGR-5gUmRCy7BFXtSSmqy8-8DB/s1600/IMG_3516.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLEwXQDoGkfhbEh8Tu5iVwGgEZnUixTRSwxxzJcz5DqTL4Xe-YALa-hzGqTOJqhFLikKpSm2A59FD6EIybto02Qfq6CvLa6zVkbpGdQ8IWl88KpeTM4FeGR-5gUmRCy7BFXtSSmqy8-8DB/s400/IMG_3516.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNSPkyvFVWZ-Yq5o65TRREl271A-IiSGEwmLP0CV1G7PaQAYZ-JojGqCD4StSaz5fQKYb07ZgMHx5BMde9M6O2icURzgenpZHSvY_XCBOfe9GzpjDxyKAMQ4Uj63hDam4Q4LacHuiri-ao/s1600/IMG_3515.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNSPkyvFVWZ-Yq5o65TRREl271A-IiSGEwmLP0CV1G7PaQAYZ-JojGqCD4StSaz5fQKYb07ZgMHx5BMde9M6O2icURzgenpZHSvY_XCBOfe9GzpjDxyKAMQ4Uj63hDam4Q4LacHuiri-ao/s1600/IMG_3515.JPG" /></a><br />
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We walked through the barrels. Stephanie allowed for nearly a full 5 minutes of silence to take in this setting. At the elevator, she told us she was going to hop off to run some errands, and suggested we take a stroll on the roof. Afterwards, I understood why. Descending alone one goes from the holy cellar of soft lights and wood barrels, past the modern harvesting space, and then ends up…. on a beach sand dune?! Hang on? Yes. It's true. Cheval Blanc has designed a green roof on their sloping modern roof that mimics a sand dune. It is covered in soft, long grasses which whisper when the winds blow across the Pomerol and Saint Emilion appellation. A path constructed of planked wood (exactly like at the beach) leads you curving around the roof, taking in vistas all around. There are seats and couches for relaxing. There are trees. And there are all of the good neighbors chateaux visible in the distance. It's brilliant. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixjjKXBnBUKvj9o2caR7nd3IEnAfaf4Kk2zaeEN0FzncAzbb00cDzYqs3HUZ0g_rlabuZu3Zo__N7NofNoWn_OKSFf-lunM9L2JEqukvkwa_uezd_k-mybo4YBcegjm5LFUa_wQOA_g3fQ/s1600/IMG_3519.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixjjKXBnBUKvj9o2caR7nd3IEnAfaf4Kk2zaeEN0FzncAzbb00cDzYqs3HUZ0g_rlabuZu3Zo__N7NofNoWn_OKSFf-lunM9L2JEqukvkwa_uezd_k-mybo4YBcegjm5LFUa_wQOA_g3fQ/s1600/IMG_3519.JPG" /></a><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVLibnOYCBqXtB3shfdOYWDVFl2Tbb871dvI7JKW-kbPSyoYBBMutOTCAoxKEq9i4o3vOKWF7hvz-bfD8rft5xb3mLOGD0YVRmL7ZG9ouksh2ntkBVkTrMoNdpsF-aIAtVllqoJQ-Y4ZiU/s1600/IMG_3525.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVLibnOYCBqXtB3shfdOYWDVFl2Tbb871dvI7JKW-kbPSyoYBBMutOTCAoxKEq9i4o3vOKWF7hvz-bfD8rft5xb3mLOGD0YVRmL7ZG9ouksh2ntkBVkTrMoNdpsF-aIAtVllqoJQ-Y4ZiU/s1600/IMG_3525.JPG" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">On the modern roof overlooking the old Chateau.</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNL7SFELfe1PPGlzRnU1t4QqbR0fu2Rrvedc3cmMDKttFWR99tb30B31kgQW_H4hzqS2bi3MiJlqH8OXso8XK7fibr5vpNgVemDk48On6oh86fdPAuhEQCsocYsLJkI36_CietIY-tcuk3/s1600/IMG_3531.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="display: inline !important; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNL7SFELfe1PPGlzRnU1t4QqbR0fu2Rrvedc3cmMDKttFWR99tb30B31kgQW_H4hzqS2bi3MiJlqH8OXso8XK7fibr5vpNgVemDk48On6oh86fdPAuhEQCsocYsLJkI36_CietIY-tcuk3/s640/IMG_3531.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaCNYjXBe2gTf9ciQleHJRRdxB7xJtSugkmIhxB_ATQwAl_tp9pJEfQJbadcVvxEZdte0KDVyNGYZqJQCoxuclIrJakI0YtDn3a-N8I8COWbQLJb_kqWOIzrmnUuKKHLuLPd9ndXdAIYNO/s1600/IMG_3536.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXhd9pwwxHLzLK4ef4NyxddzaUJzuQABXpFpaC7d8pWV5etdEoLDhQnmkXyV3yO3Pqrjrkjkd8gyztaZOtCx7ph9QwvjgGADZz6EnJq9gy4hkfscoAoIuMORExhu_3uz7EFf-bekKt0Wwq/s1600/IMG_3537.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXhd9pwwxHLzLK4ef4NyxddzaUJzuQABXpFpaC7d8pWV5etdEoLDhQnmkXyV3yO3Pqrjrkjkd8gyztaZOtCx7ph9QwvjgGADZz6EnJq9gy4hkfscoAoIuMORExhu_3uz7EFf-bekKt0Wwq/s1600/IMG_3537.JPG" /></a><br />
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After hanging out for a while on the roof and feeling like the luckiest person in the world, I descended the ramp to the tasting room. Stephanie poured us a nice glass of their 2006 vintage. The 2006 is a 50/50 blend of Merlot and Cabernet Franc, and aged in 100% new oak like Cheval Blanc does. What a wine! What a pleasure! Swirling around my mouth, showing off to every single tastebud and nook and cranny, this wine seduced me. At first there were woody notes of mossy ground, porcini mushroom, and dark fruits. It was playful and full, and then it became sophisticated as long, dry, silky tannins coated the sides of the mouth. And once swallowed (because this wasn't going anywhere else), the finish was fantastic. Lengthy and very very sexy. Showing a fully potential to age, this wine was drinkable today due to the Cabernet Franc. In the mouth one could taste how both grapes were being combined to their maximum characteristics. </div>
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Maybe it's just me and I'm too persuadable, but this wine drank tasted just like the building looked and smelled: sophisticated, impressive, and sexy. I can't imagine a better space to drink Cheval Blanc than in it's very home. </div>
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Finishing my glass with pleasure, perhaps I committed a faux pas when I had to run back to grab the half-drunken glass of my companion (who was driving), as I could not have bared that thought of letting this go wasted. I sat myself outside under an oak tree, watching the vines, and savoring the last of this exceptional wine.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbEONegS9Syg-5W9dsmPN0soZjobuiRRqFyYtY1URaABJGgIrF6K7Ca4MU3La_QFY_6dwPLBKhmu3QEfrui5ENs_Z4gaMgDyi2X8TSlKLvdNHrvDpHUj9YHd39ZDQ-JrQU8L7kr_pToDI2/s1600/IMG_3548.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbEONegS9Syg-5W9dsmPN0soZjobuiRRqFyYtY1URaABJGgIrF6K7Ca4MU3La_QFY_6dwPLBKhmu3QEfrui5ENs_Z4gaMgDyi2X8TSlKLvdNHrvDpHUj9YHd39ZDQ-JrQU8L7kr_pToDI2/s640/IMG_3548.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Marybeth Tamborra at Cheval Blanc</td></tr>
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Marybeth Tamborrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04167818048526169240noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4714949764966715224.post-53415933768183824432012-08-27T23:07:00.002+02:002012-08-27T23:22:12.865+02:00Chateau de Bardies<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Structures which are both old and usually large have an immensity that exceeds the purely physical: there is an immensity of presence.The immensity of presence is all the more common in large, old houses as these were places in which people lived everyday. Somehow that life is felt. The design of the space, the paths of movement, the infrastructure that demands an action (a fireplace, an oven, a sink) make us aware that this is a space for living, and when it is an old space, we are reminded that others have lived here. </div>
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In some buildings we feel like Walter Benjamin entering his room with the 'bourgeois' arm chair, and we tell ourselves, "I do not belong here". But there are some buildings which radiate with the presence of life in a manner that is encouraging and celebratory. Chateau Bardies is one such structure. It is a place in which one is encouraged to rejoice. </div>
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Like other places in the Ariege it has a unique effect of seeming like a maze. It is a house that cannot be photographed in one shot because it finds a way to hide itself from the range of the camera lens. You cannot understand it all together. There is simply too much. Rather, it is a house of nooks which must be appreciated individually. </div>
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Last weekend I had the pleasure of catering for Chateau de Bardies and their annual summer music party. Roughly sixty guests came from all over France and the UK to rejoice for a few days in this pastoral wonderland. To my surprise, I was told that this was a small party for their standards, as in the past as many as 250 had been invited to the music festivals. This year's party included a blues/rock band, a folk singer, and a 40-minute narrated version of The Magic Flute complete with a Queen of the Night aria. It was truly extraordinary! </div>
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There was a beautiful moment on day two after we had all eaten lunch. Thirty of us lingered under a tree, clustered around a table, listening to two guitarists and a folk singer who tenderly sang familiar tunes. A clarinetist would call back with a low, raspy voice. It was a hot day and the air hung heavily. Bottles of ros<span class="s1">é</span> perspired on the table tops. The French would say the sky was 'low'. A Russian woman sang a song about two trees separated by a river, which touched straight to the heart. And a young girl of just 19 years shyly sang to us with a voice that sounded anything but shy. And all of us were captivated. We all felt a moment of happiness with humanity. The honesty of the music opened us. Taking in the lyrics we were soothed and caressed. And the greatness of this collective emotion rebounded off of one another exponentially.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguAWCtV3di1TqgsXr3rJfJNOHBOjo1NDHpMjLMrlfNqI1pd6Gx9G49F20DFDv39RQ4vpkUhZyWMXU6wcKwkAi-U8eQcQQONv1U-54NPx_Oyq_QCE67a8VO1Qwys706z5IushQRV-vZypeS/s1600/IMG_2980.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguAWCtV3di1TqgsXr3rJfJNOHBOjo1NDHpMjLMrlfNqI1pd6Gx9G49F20DFDv39RQ4vpkUhZyWMXU6wcKwkAi-U8eQcQQONv1U-54NPx_Oyq_QCE67a8VO1Qwys706z5IushQRV-vZypeS/s640/IMG_2980.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The verdant view from my window.</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJofl2H44ODegS-PSJ8ZPDVyOOo8YXOVmwaiKv_CxR6AE32D2rlyMxES35my6pMa6WNnqCch3KQWJknTXEEROsPaJX1YtlcehzH4lcp65ZFw2awm8T7_yPF3-JM1_vZl5ED_pa3u5tCCiS/s1600/IMG_2981.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJofl2H44ODegS-PSJ8ZPDVyOOo8YXOVmwaiKv_CxR6AE32D2rlyMxES35my6pMa6WNnqCch3KQWJknTXEEROsPaJX1YtlcehzH4lcp65ZFw2awm8T7_yPF3-JM1_vZl5ED_pa3u5tCCiS/s400/IMG_2981.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-clHX3ww_-c0iLA3Z3uNEC8HnxjKzl02cuoeheEHMmWHyEagSSyv4FqxXlVxY-S1DZQ-gAFFeukMnUXTkm24dnxzFykaORhyMGwm-EHJ1qQQOnA4EG5vcTXlbe9dr_-isFHycxEcwSZYh/s1600/IMG_2982.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-clHX3ww_-c0iLA3Z3uNEC8HnxjKzl02cuoeheEHMmWHyEagSSyv4FqxXlVxY-S1DZQ-gAFFeukMnUXTkm24dnxzFykaORhyMGwm-EHJ1qQQOnA4EG5vcTXlbe9dr_-isFHycxEcwSZYh/s400/IMG_2982.jpg" width="300" /></a><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3nkCZL3Wk-HIgs1tBTC0IRiKiPIpnVmQJ1_H5mjkJXenDMMeAC8bMjssxlJeZ6A6jLxqa4riz6PYAwJGCvWMt9z90w78pEWOW_FXkG-habvSWWzPuXDa7-_mmU5hPxYR56KBdManuVN5y/s1600/IMG_2984.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3nkCZL3Wk-HIgs1tBTC0IRiKiPIpnVmQJ1_H5mjkJXenDMMeAC8bMjssxlJeZ6A6jLxqa4riz6PYAwJGCvWMt9z90w78pEWOW_FXkG-habvSWWzPuXDa7-_mmU5hPxYR56KBdManuVN5y/s640/IMG_2984.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdmcAecAqdrpN44WsgAucYRiru52Trb-dedls98PTg20kwH_eGrlrabEGDUt8mvyABzBUIViPqejvmDeyJ71EDSDSTnTD_Pj4S47SiHofHyygG-eqOyCuSCqOxG5zaCF40_e1ATdLw-Cpr/s1600/IMG_2989.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdmcAecAqdrpN44WsgAucYRiru52Trb-dedls98PTg20kwH_eGrlrabEGDUt8mvyABzBUIViPqejvmDeyJ71EDSDSTnTD_Pj4S47SiHofHyygG-eqOyCuSCqOxG5zaCF40_e1ATdLw-Cpr/s640/IMG_2989.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">When life gives you lemon make a lemon tart! My version is super citrusy.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfR2mB19yxpIWspVwLGK-vTrUO5s67OSna8sSM0c6SaA4mor07VoiLxIpzZV0oDRrXAzr3OQJ0WqnPShGzX9czDd79nr8OFAPstVySQCKtYhG7PtKHL6KJgeWsg9aNSZxMPBjvWlT6uyn8/s1600/IMG_2991.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfR2mB19yxpIWspVwLGK-vTrUO5s67OSna8sSM0c6SaA4mor07VoiLxIpzZV0oDRrXAzr3OQJ0WqnPShGzX9czDd79nr8OFAPstVySQCKtYhG7PtKHL6KJgeWsg9aNSZxMPBjvWlT6uyn8/s640/IMG_2991.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And when life gives you pears...</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWg7vrz0luki-Of79Gzx-Wt5jzkYAjjA7K4GfzhYH2rvG3J4rxZRHE5zjSbU77NkVUBdOBfaAc9ehgkMZIlZz2Y5mhapc7P5KBYezrhkjXLrg06WYI0wAm3kVQMevzb8fIANpLgRrOAolU/s1600/IMG_2996.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWg7vrz0luki-Of79Gzx-Wt5jzkYAjjA7K4GfzhYH2rvG3J4rxZRHE5zjSbU77NkVUBdOBfaAc9ehgkMZIlZz2Y5mhapc7P5KBYezrhkjXLrg06WYI0wAm3kVQMevzb8fIANpLgRrOAolU/s640/IMG_2996.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Make pear ravioli! These were fantastic. We found a delicious local cow's milk "ricotta" which I mixed with grated pears, a sharp pecorino cheese, and a dash of marscarpone for texture. I served this with a simple sage butter sauce with a few bits of crispy pancetta and toasted hazelnuts. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFFE8i_kb-0_yQEQSBt5o6ig_dTAtZQMI8cWCM3vnE0LYfFS2iq4FZM42-9WFgz4RJN-Iq1Lvsrgx5Mpqkb-FQUEow34rkeIqaCMiOnS5pXSQr-TS0ZcAgm6o_XF4FUFMcQau5bq6l4C-A/s1600/IMG_2995.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFFE8i_kb-0_yQEQSBt5o6ig_dTAtZQMI8cWCM3vnE0LYfFS2iq4FZM42-9WFgz4RJN-Iq1Lvsrgx5Mpqkb-FQUEow34rkeIqaCMiOnS5pXSQr-TS0ZcAgm6o_XF4FUFMcQau5bq6l4C-A/s400/IMG_2995.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The former main entrance. The tower is a bathroom with <br />
the original toilets! Further to the right (not visible<br />
in this photo) is another arched surface with arrow slits. </td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqHlNbs8ypyUWemD4dz7DrUgIUIgORtj47X_5UQnp0ONNVB4GvwbuGt2BltD-guO153HznbxiS3H6tEazbm_C25hyphenhyphendre6lBLDAXzVTURpnJySxLk9m0RV5e2tJBhnlRxbuTi0_A2amnH4W/s1600/IMG_2999.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqHlNbs8ypyUWemD4dz7DrUgIUIgORtj47X_5UQnp0ONNVB4GvwbuGt2BltD-guO153HznbxiS3H6tEazbm_C25hyphenhyphendre6lBLDAXzVTURpnJySxLk9m0RV5e2tJBhnlRxbuTi0_A2amnH4W/s400/IMG_2999.jpg" width="300" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFFE8i_kb-0_yQEQSBt5o6ig_dTAtZQMI8cWCM3vnE0LYfFS2iq4FZM42-9WFgz4RJN-Iq1Lvsrgx5Mpqkb-FQUEow34rkeIqaCMiOnS5pXSQr-TS0ZcAgm6o_XF4FUFMcQau5bq6l4C-A/s1600/IMG_2995.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFFE8i_kb-0_yQEQSBt5o6ig_dTAtZQMI8cWCM3vnE0LYfFS2iq4FZM42-9WFgz4RJN-Iq1Lvsrgx5Mpqkb-FQUEow34rkeIqaCMiOnS5pXSQr-TS0ZcAgm6o_XF4FUFMcQau5bq6l4C-A/s1600/IMG_2995.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDQ6ueBJXK3m-VFZTi2JQRM62BHWpt4mfRBPVzKAdt6dXAkA7wBSLayzToxN2e-oCflvR9404jJuRb0CIXEvDWH7ChqGLfnrFbNcN7A1mIiAWujaUmdmncbmap9v26iefmALsc8dOHCW8_/s1600/IMG_2998.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDQ6ueBJXK3m-VFZTi2JQRM62BHWpt4mfRBPVzKAdt6dXAkA7wBSLayzToxN2e-oCflvR9404jJuRb0CIXEvDWH7ChqGLfnrFbNcN7A1mIiAWujaUmdmncbmap9v26iefmALsc8dOHCW8_/s640/IMG_2998.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lola's slow roasted, herby tomatoes.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9LD4WE7gp0LMbHZ-oEmnA0SdMkegBMh8njEhcJOJV1I1nNTjbDemzhO1fsizgVoC-KVpZozIQwCDZMRd2R-6bPhDkAjXMKWzGULooWWmjc-qn6OAXXFHLi776NMgNkXufP6v6qoXRUAjy/s1600/IMG_3001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="588" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9LD4WE7gp0LMbHZ-oEmnA0SdMkegBMh8njEhcJOJV1I1nNTjbDemzhO1fsizgVoC-KVpZozIQwCDZMRd2R-6bPhDkAjXMKWzGULooWWmjc-qn6OAXXFHLi776NMgNkXufP6v6qoXRUAjy/s640/IMG_3001.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The SW of France was once home to many hand-beaten copper makers. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzbAQT6rYTU9IHYopvKA4bb4ELCDwMGnGVIU3SFwJWnXeqhQ3iMIupQIzexZSekGtp0Z5x2A3tb83w4yLAZNS1KvD1Ox3bs1Cl9TzH2YxDXLapK6FZ2aBzAf6EXTNQnCnnxCXyDLeXvby4/s1600/IMG_3008.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzbAQT6rYTU9IHYopvKA4bb4ELCDwMGnGVIU3SFwJWnXeqhQ3iMIupQIzexZSekGtp0Z5x2A3tb83w4yLAZNS1KvD1Ox3bs1Cl9TzH2YxDXLapK6FZ2aBzAf6EXTNQnCnnxCXyDLeXvby4/s640/IMG_3008.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pasta hanging to dry in the main kitchen. Note: blinded by the sunlight is a stunning view of rolling, forested hills. The camera simply could not take it all in at once.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk3MHooZzGRMtb_frocScox25paIc1Q9BVTh0G9JjgEhhAOImUSRJJdUZ2Op-Cs8wKN3v4kU_tdtGO3Y0kjJVAekT3QZcWTIdi-598b2wVywcjNjJwzAGAycstQPmHWm89Mw_BFUBNHURe/s1600/IMG_3013.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk3MHooZzGRMtb_frocScox25paIc1Q9BVTh0G9JjgEhhAOImUSRJJdUZ2Op-Cs8wKN3v4kU_tdtGO3Y0kjJVAekT3QZcWTIdi-598b2wVywcjNjJwzAGAycstQPmHWm89Mw_BFUBNHURe/s640/IMG_3013.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The tower in the background collects rainwater.</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggtLF1A3C5hUbPBz2k301KiyONmrWaLUKjEG-Ks-4sjhq3CTNhA8X8JVhCcjPdTrrW-R08Kf83GxubKTns4wWfcQqAlcJq7_EYR_atiWruUtCE0Xls3xUt6WGiIxjDC4gzWhnry89jKCr9/s1600/IMG_3019.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggtLF1A3C5hUbPBz2k301KiyONmrWaLUKjEG-Ks-4sjhq3CTNhA8X8JVhCcjPdTrrW-R08Kf83GxubKTns4wWfcQqAlcJq7_EYR_atiWruUtCE0Xls3xUt6WGiIxjDC4gzWhnry89jKCr9/s640/IMG_3019.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCwaOQlhxJII70y-bVIiT-tz7m5DHm7O3i8CVG0mSms7soVun6p7JGDIfdTp0w4-_apHirp0lq0_konoZIalG28z_askTM5r8ZWz0_PUNTcSdk0P3Pb8n0piLfX9FXETa_qn7ANck6QopM/s1600/IMG_3024.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCwaOQlhxJII70y-bVIiT-tz7m5DHm7O3i8CVG0mSms7soVun6p7JGDIfdTp0w4-_apHirp0lq0_konoZIalG28z_askTM5r8ZWz0_PUNTcSdk0P3Pb8n0piLfX9FXETa_qn7ANck6QopM/s640/IMG_3024.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The pool in the late afternoon. The hills that you see are the grazing fields of cows, which begin their journey back to home in the afternoon, ringing their peaceful bells throughout the hills. Swallows dip into the water in the last moments of daylight.</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDWOl9aTSdyDbdoLWzFl5oOI-B6SzKIKew9Xoul61e7Mbn9bdfbA7AgmCg_tH6mt9vvegYWGUFadigrNlZHPYynpfrjSWFwlcixTArxXUgI3FUkxByyo2acQVSGKjTYwjyQUWc8r2XVF7-/s1600/IMG_3028.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDWOl9aTSdyDbdoLWzFl5oOI-B6SzKIKew9Xoul61e7Mbn9bdfbA7AgmCg_tH6mt9vvegYWGUFadigrNlZHPYynpfrjSWFwlcixTArxXUgI3FUkxByyo2acQVSGKjTYwjyQUWc8r2XVF7-/s400/IMG_3028.jpg" width="300" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaQRHrqHzIwREv4vqhGpB12A822OQ8PJTyPCb7L__zRprKob13DdWrFr2XEzMi2rQE77XVv2yTHQ2arhz6YRXSfonskUi1ZIIEAIpU5ATmjWBD5A6ms9r3VO-h0GCcwWFETMmvg92XaL5a/s1600/IMG_3043.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaQRHrqHzIwREv4vqhGpB12A822OQ8PJTyPCb7L__zRprKob13DdWrFr2XEzMi2rQE77XVv2yTHQ2arhz6YRXSfonskUi1ZIIEAIpU5ATmjWBD5A6ms9r3VO-h0GCcwWFETMmvg92XaL5a/s400/IMG_3043.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6Tj2ORLf8TorgomQMJiD-QnwtmKShFvFp78Mn00oaD6Arf-TmjniKPaKpTUI-syv5ZZaiS7JX-gT9jPv1wknQCau_gxtPIObnGjmgKJYIpKp5uoYArEF2QMVYkvbREHkAlK7_rtJPWuCE/s1600/IMG_3029.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6Tj2ORLf8TorgomQMJiD-QnwtmKShFvFp78Mn00oaD6Arf-TmjniKPaKpTUI-syv5ZZaiS7JX-gT9jPv1wknQCau_gxtPIObnGjmgKJYIpKp5uoYArEF2QMVYkvbREHkAlK7_rtJPWuCE/s400/IMG_3029.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The stage is ready for dancing and music!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjRfQvWqyEqw0WFDXka7Czuilhnx8Ix5LLtorQzjmCoENCqQ3jg8CIpKO0rb4OKu2uHUuzd9WN_dvJSvl5TTf_Hy-Kv2GacjHTu7Qm4SHFCdLvWIT6Lpic1an7eXHvQ0aHE3QK1I4nWnP_/s1600/IMG_3062.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjRfQvWqyEqw0WFDXka7Czuilhnx8Ix5LLtorQzjmCoENCqQ3jg8CIpKO0rb4OKu2uHUuzd9WN_dvJSvl5TTf_Hy-Kv2GacjHTu7Qm4SHFCdLvWIT6Lpic1an7eXHvQ0aHE3QK1I4nWnP_/s640/IMG_3062.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gathered for a 40-minute opera told by Richard Vardigans, who formerly conducted for several major opera houses, and now gives opera "talks" for groups. This talk on The Magic Flute was fantastic! It was filled with Richard's piano playing, anecdotes on the significance of keys in music, and even a Queen of the Night aria.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A russian woman rehearses a russian folk song to give English folk singer, Katy Heath, a sense of the guitar accompaniment</td></tr>
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*Chateau Bardies is one of many centuries-old chateaux in the Ariege. In a region which is now one of the poorest of France, they stand as reminders of Southern France's historic wealth. For more information on this special place visit: <a href="http://www.chateaudebardies.net/home.htm">http://www.chateaudebardies.net/home.htm</a></div>
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Marybeth Tamborrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04167818048526169240noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4714949764966715224.post-16559479303775901702012-08-11T14:58:00.000+02:002012-08-21T21:41:24.585+02:00Girona, Spain<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Girona is only a 3 hour drive from Toulouse. Pleasant, picturesque, and lively it is the perfect city to taste the flavors of Catalonia without feeling overwhelmed. There is something almost Italian about the brightly-colored houses clustered around the main river. Built onto a hill, one is entertained with choices of alleyways shaded from the hot, Spanish sun; and massive sets of stairs climbing up to some unknown spot from which one is certain to breath in the view.<br />
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Before going I jotted down the names of several promising restaurants and told myself that I would simply wander the city, and dine at whichever I came upon first. Rounding a corner where a stunning bronze door had caught my attention, I discovered where I was fated to dine: restaurant Divinum.<br />
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I entered. The decor was bland. It too reminded me of a hotel. Grand but tasteless. Eventually I was taken to a table in the restaurant. Perhaps it was the anxiety of the single diner but I found the wait times to be exhausting. Go with friends. Order a lot of wine. And allow yourself to eat like the other Catalonians: leisurely.<br />
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I ordered the mid-priced menu: 6 courses for 30euro. Housemade bread was placed on the table: a delightful, soft seeded bread, and a crispier ciabattia style; served with a vibrant oil and three types of seasoning salts.<br />
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After the first course came-- a salad of piquant greens, sharp cheese, tangy berries and savory Jamon Iberico-- I asked for confirmation on the menu and pricing I had chosen. How could it be possible that a massive salad composed of such quality ingredients could be one of 6 courses costing in total 30?!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilPTKjog6XGZAY4QI2q3bFr4kFuDRxtFlWnPeMY0MUB1FLFyy26Hgx4FiAVhjLeBgrV3K-_NSIvOS4hmnTXQ1ZfnRtWiZ-Kz-FTGRDhMXfWDfyLcxYW9INKIAM2B5DoezJ3oVRxLZ2RIYB/s1600/IMG_2956.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilPTKjog6XGZAY4QI2q3bFr4kFuDRxtFlWnPeMY0MUB1FLFyy26Hgx4FiAVhjLeBgrV3K-_NSIvOS4hmnTXQ1ZfnRtWiZ-Kz-FTGRDhMXfWDfyLcxYW9INKIAM2B5DoezJ3oVRxLZ2RIYB/s640/IMG_2956.JPG" width="640" /></a><br />
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I had ordered a glass of Cava when I arrived. And a rioja by the glass by the time the second course came along. Roasted figs. Foie gras. Balsamic glaze. What can go wrong here? Nothing. And nothing did. I could have used a bit more foie, but then again, when don't I feel that way?<br />
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The third course was by far my favorite. Stuffed, hand-made pastas filled with pear and cheese, with a creamy sauce of crisped Jamon Iberico and bits of crisped cracker. The pasta was perfectly made. These combinations of flavors, classic to Florence, are some of my favorites.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc4DNzBqntYt_19mtgh_Bu6qrtk3u9G3UzbyQTxByJhYPSrYqeG10EcTn8_DOKDbWf3mdetmbTwRPGyjTM2bquaHRwwC_mjfCKlKhfl_XPbiMRGtKz2EU05XB4SeFG4ypaCjWlcANbpNRs/s1600/IMG_2960.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc4DNzBqntYt_19mtgh_Bu6qrtk3u9G3UzbyQTxByJhYPSrYqeG10EcTn8_DOKDbWf3mdetmbTwRPGyjTM2bquaHRwwC_mjfCKlKhfl_XPbiMRGtKz2EU05XB4SeFG4ypaCjWlcANbpNRs/s640/IMG_2960.JPG" width="640" /></a><br />
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Course #4 was the most disappointing: a tuna tartare, with mango gelato, and large, flat-flaked salt. This simply lacked something. The tuna was fresh, but needed to be brightened up a bit in flavor. The mango simply saturated it with sugars, overwhelming the fish. Nonetheless, I loved the presentation on the slate boards and the crunch of the salt with the tender tuna.<br />
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Course # 5 came through with a perfectly braised veal cheek, sitting plumply in its juices and topped with some citrusy rosemary. I asked what the white sauce was-- it was mild and pleasing. The waiter, in his characteristic Catalonian-accented lisp, responded that it was, 'mashed potatoes'.<br />
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Desert was served with huge silverware-- approximately 16 inches in lenght. To eat this cake required play. It was a pleasure to dig into the chocolate 'brownie' with oversized flatware. The chocolate cake was served with a slightly bitter, herbaceous green gelato; as well as a brightly acidic current sorbet. The big highlight was the scrumptious desert wine which came along with the course.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNJk1LCg7aJPyhoocV9VuLfHrAH7nZDb-GDgxcTZt0JElmbOYwaXVyaXrzWMEcFUNPwvzQEwtP18Niw5DC-wGQ3BzzwvWUnhYRye_-88FioyEG0aN-45ZiKZgjUM1xPbmMrbpQsLmpKXa6/s1600/IMG_2967.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNJk1LCg7aJPyhoocV9VuLfHrAH7nZDb-GDgxcTZt0JElmbOYwaXVyaXrzWMEcFUNPwvzQEwtP18Niw5DC-wGQ3BzzwvWUnhYRye_-88FioyEG0aN-45ZiKZgjUM1xPbmMrbpQsLmpKXa6/s640/IMG_2967.JPG" width="640" /></a><br />
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I left having paid 42 euro for 6 very large plates and 4 glasses of wine. I was convinced that I underpaid, and this is something I rarely feel. I cannot imagine how it was possible that the ingredients alone of what I had eaten cost less than 30 euro, let alone their gorgeous preparation. Divinum did not disappoint.<br />
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I wandered the city on a full belly, admiring the churches and stone work. There were many other restaurants in town which were serving fantastic plates of Catalonian cuisine, from little restaurants tucked into charming street corners.<br />
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Marybeth Tamborrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04167818048526169240noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4714949764966715224.post-23407441276213318852012-07-31T14:15:00.004+02:002012-07-31T14:22:26.579+02:00Ferme de Lantein: Goat cheese!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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A great collector of wines once told me that there's no definite 'good' and 'bad when it comes to wine, rather, we should assess if the wine is good based on if we like its taste. I don't always agree with this rationale; yesterday, however, I was reminded of this definition of quality by Tobias' response to what makes his goat cheese have a superior quality. "There is a great variety with goat cheese," he explained quietly, speaking timidly in English, "it depends on the variety of goats, what they eat, the recipe… but, yeah, have a friend who makes goat cheese nearby and it tastes very different. Mine is what I like. It's what I prefer." </div>
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I second Tobias.</div>
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Tobias is the owner of <i>Ferme de Lantein</i>, a goat farm in the Ariege of the Midi-Pyrenees which produces fantastic goat's cheese, milk and cream. How would <i>I</i> word what makes Tobias' cheese superior? His cheese tastes like milk. I'm not sure why, and maybe it's cheesy to write, but somehow Tobias' cheese is feminine and maternal. I am reminded that this cheese is made from the milk made by mother's to nurse her springtime babies. Perhaps this nearly subconscious association is why I am made to feel pleased and youthful when eating his cheese. It also has a distinct herbaceous taste, especially prevalent in his fresher, wetter cheeses. The taste is unmistakably goaty. It's slightly mealy texture comes off as sincere. Even the wetter cheeses have a dryness in the mouth. And even the drier, more aged cheese, which have turned blue on the outside with friendly molds, are not overwhelmingly pungent. They still taste of milk.<br />
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Yesterday I went to Tobias' farm to witness the magic of this incredible cheese maker, whose cheeses I eat almost daily. The tour which Tobias gave me, which included a visit into the laboratories, is more extensive than theThe Goose in Toulouse Gastronomic Tours due to health and safety regulations. I'll describe this part (which can be witnessed through glass windows nonetheless), as well as the more exciting outdoor part, which you will come to see as well! </div>
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Tobias' farm is situation on a spot of land with one of the best views in the Ariege. From its height one can see the rolling fields, squares of agricultural production, a small village, large homes, and the towering distant mountains. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQt5FJrk26spir_v3gIw2SIM8qa9rTVa05D8PapHhC0RbNnxXrOAwOf1nIgQw_CIKX_bL-y7-d2RCpqd6VEJWTepUlmPQctYzdGzIXQFjn6r8JM71JRZk2u5LQFEX1NvfhdG7TFP7PLowa/s1600/IMG_1623.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQt5FJrk26spir_v3gIw2SIM8qa9rTVa05D8PapHhC0RbNnxXrOAwOf1nIgQw_CIKX_bL-y7-d2RCpqd6VEJWTepUlmPQctYzdGzIXQFjn6r8JM71JRZk2u5LQFEX1NvfhdG7TFP7PLowa/s320/IMG_1623.JPG" width="320" /></a>His extensive property is perfect for his 30 goats who spend their days grazing the fields and forests. Every afternoon, after a day out and about, Tobias brings the goats in to milk them. He sprinkled a scoop of feed into the troths. The feed, a mixture of soy and corn, gives the goats a protein boost. Eagerly and orderly each goat quickly took her spot and calmly set about snacking. Tobias went around and gave each utter a squeeze to check that the milk was OK. He explained that this is necessary in the rare case that a goat has an internal problem, such as blood mixing into the milk. Having only milked goats once as a child, I was expecting we'd be spending long hours of awkward finger motions and squeezing, but even small production milking has modernized. Tobias pulled a machine over to each goat and placed a clear plastic tube over each utter. The utters were instantly sucked inside, and with a consistent pulling motion, milk streamed into the tubes. The plump, full utters shrank in size, and the goats continued to peacefully eat their feed. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">During milking</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">After milking</td></tr>
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These tubes lead into large silver milk jugs, much like those from the days before the milking machines. After the first 12 goats had fed, I was surprised to see that the entire massive jug was full with beautiful, creamy milk. On average, these 30 goats produce enough milk to make 100 rounds of goat cheese daily (more in the spring, as milk production is at its peak).<br />
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Tobias then led me into his laboratory to show me how this liquid is turned into a tangy round of cheese. </div>
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To enter the laboratory-- that meticulously clean, sparkling white room-- one must remove one's shoes at the first door that leads to a small anteroom. Here one must dress in a full apron and hat. Prior to handling cheeses, Tobias, first scrubbed his hands and nails with a small bristle brush. He explained that bacteria is crucial to cheese making, and to assure that only the right bacteria are effecting the cheeses one must take precaution. </div>
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The room was laid out simply and chronologically. On the nearest wall was a rack storing 5 large buckets of goat milk and rennet. Rennet is mixture of enzymes found in the stomach of any mammal (in the case of cheese production rennet is often a byproduct of veal). The enzymes separate the liquid whey from solid cheese curds. The liquid is then removed (and given to another farmer who uses this nutrient-rich water to mix his pig feed).<br />
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The solids are then measured out and placed into little rounds with holes to let the access water drain. The initial steps in cheese making is all about drying the cheese in a temperature and moisture controlled space. Tobias makes these rounds each morning and twelve hours later he turns the cheese, now firm enough to be handled as a solid round, to rest on its opposite side to drain off water. </div>
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The next morning, these rounds are taken out of their mini-strainers and placed on the first of a series of three racks. On this rack the cheese is now 24-hours old. Tobias sprinkles each round with salts. Through osmosis the salts are absorbed into the cheese. Tobias noted that in his opinion salt applied at this stage results in a better tasting cheese than when salt is added while the milk is still liquid. Here any additional moisture is released.<br />
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On day 2 (rack #3), the cheese is now nearly dry and a matte, white crust can be seen to be forming, though not yet consistently.<br />
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The cheese on day 3 has an even and consistent skin, and has started to taint slightly yellow. This cheese is then moved into the first of two caves, where it sits to rest for a few days. </div>
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Tobias makes plain goat milk cheeses of three ages: a creamy cheese which is barley aged and still quite moist, a medium cheese, and a dry robust cheese. While the cheese is still in the "creamy" phase, he adds spices to some cheeses. I've now tried his paprika, which adds a nice smoky quality to the tangy cheese. His carmel cheese is a fantastic desert which pairs excellently with red wine. And the Herbs de Provence variety helps to bring out the grassy, herbaceous character already so prevalent in his cheeses. Especially for someone like me who is becoming spoiled by Tobias' cheeses, these herbal varieties are a lovely way to mix up the flavors on a classical, elegant cheese.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo9Zic0G8gY0BjYopdNWvAOJheTVhIkz69oChlB7fJQ-IltMu-FdgE1hh9s40eUDHavhLXKCZmSzt1_F3G60u4DdqkdTtzyWf8QD9KJVbTaSmHj-lswyaIWAduumjZVQ40DA83IiuR4zKy/s1600/IMG_1657.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo9Zic0G8gY0BjYopdNWvAOJheTVhIkz69oChlB7fJQ-IltMu-FdgE1hh9s40eUDHavhLXKCZmSzt1_F3G60u4DdqkdTtzyWf8QD9KJVbTaSmHj-lswyaIWAduumjZVQ40DA83IiuR4zKy/s640/IMG_1657.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A round of cheese ready to eat in its 'creamy' phase</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Cheeses on the top are </span><span style="font-size: x-small;">noticeably</span><span style="font-size: x-small;"> smaller and are thus the most aged, called 'dry' (sec), cheeses on the bottom are Tobias' medium aged cheese, nicely robust but with a moister consistency. </span></td></tr>
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This season I have enjoyed eating Tobias' cheeses starting in the late spring and ending in the late autumn. Each month brings new herbs that the goats munch on outside, and changes in the nutritional contents of the milk depending on the the needs of baby goats; factors which change the flavors of the cheeses. Tobias summarized these changes as springtime produces softer, herbier tasting cheeses, while autumn milk is more piquant, aged, and strong. </div>
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Thank you Tobias, <i>Ferme de Lantein,</i> and all of those curious, quizzical goats<i> </i>for a fantastic tour. I am so happy to have this quality product produced in the most serene vista as a part of The Goose in Toulouse tours!</div>
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</div>Marybeth Tamborrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04167818048526169240noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4714949764966715224.post-59933629532402234352012-07-17T20:50:00.000+02:002012-07-18T12:55:20.289+02:00Xavier's Cheese<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="background-color: white;">I am writing lying on my stomach. I'm not sure why I've chosen this position, as I have a large, noticeable bump in my middle: a cheese baby. I have now been in France for 5 weeks. This baby looks at least 3 or 4 months old. But unlike a real baby, which makes an exit after about 9 months, what happens to a cheese baby? For how long does it grow? And is the only solution dire and extreme, to stop eating cheese?</span></div>
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I hope not.</div>
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And I am sure that my cheese baby is only going to grow because I had the pleasure of partaking in something amazing: Xavier's Cheese Shop.</div>
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It's a cheese shop in the center of Toulouse, next-door to the sprawling Victor Hugo Market. This is not your normal cheese shop. This is a cheese <i>refinery</i>, a part of the cheese process which I had previously known little about. Refining the cheese is like dry aging your beef. Perhaps you have great cattle; they've been well-fed, they're nicely plumped, and their meet is well-speckled with fats. But you and I know how much of a difference a little time hanging in a tightly moderated temperature without moisture and with fantastic little bacteria will make. The same goes with cheese. Xavier's cheese receives exceptional cheese from all of over France. These cheeses are already amazing, and frankly, unlike most of what's available in the US. But Xavier takes what is already a joy and elevates it, or shall I say, <i>refines</i> it. By aging the cheese in tightly regulated rooms Xavier's Cheeses are able to bring each individual cheese to its perfection. Depending on the cheese, Xavier ages for certain durations, ranging from days to months. The art of refining cheese is based on several properties: temperature, moisture, and time, which regulate their exposure to bacteria / molds. Goat cheeses, which are typically smaller bundles, are periodically rotated (twice per week at Xavier's) to guarantee a consistent creme, that supreme gooey good bit on a soft cheese, between the outer layer powdered with molds or bacteria and the white interior (as shown below).</div>
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To demonstrate this creme our guide tenderly squeezed a round of cheese, revealing a spring to the crust. That springiness demonstrates that the cheese has a well-formed creme.</div>
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He led us into a large room, which reeked of ammonium and alcohol. The ammonium smell came from the gas itself, which is released from some very gigantic rounds of cows milk cheese. The alcohol smell, however, is from the variety of liquors and wines poured on top of some cheeses to assist in its aging. Some muensters received splashes of riesling. A lovely round cheese, for example, was periodically doused with a brandy, producing a strong orange color and a sappy texture. The alcohol helps to form a seal on the cheese, which prevents it from loosing salt. I was surprised by its taste. There was a mild sweetness, but nothing that gave away its secret of regular liquor baths. As for the salinity, I found it to be surprisingly mild and balanced. </div>
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The women with whom I was visiting the shop took home a bundle of cheeses. Though the spunky, funky, creamy goat cheeses were not surprisingly my favorites, I also was delighted by a blue cheese from Sauterne. It was speckled with dark blue-green welts. I expected it to have the bite of a roquefort, but to my surprise this cheese had an elegant balance: the taste of cream and butter softened the peppery molds. It was bold, but refined.</div>
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To view Xavier's Cheese shop from a distance, you may want to take a glance at their <a href="http://www.french-cheese.com/index.php">website</a>, which I found fascinating. Complete with cheese tutorials and essays on everything you can imagine about cheese, the site is a great source of information and has options for purchasing cheese. </div>
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Thank you Patti, DeDe, Analisa and Michelle for a great day! </div>
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</div>Marybeth Tamborrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04167818048526169240noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4714949764966715224.post-79432033150065232222012-07-10T20:57:00.002+02:002012-07-10T20:57:59.642+02:00Antiques<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Madame Bordeau has style: with oversized, color-block, 1970s Christian Dior glasses frames; bright red Chanel nail polish; and slender arms decked out in bling. She has an eye for nice objects. She is very french.<br />
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She invited me to join her last Sunday at one of the many outdoor flea markets, common to this region. So I did, if only to watch her pick up an object with her delicate hands and examine its quality. She tinkers and she ponders. She takes great delight in a well-made object. She sees details which are hidden to me.<br />
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I'm not sure why or how, but this little region in the hills of the Pyrenees is a heaven for antique collectors. Somehow, a bulk of Christolfe flatware sets, crystal decanters and glasses, ceramic ducks, and lots of linens, laces and draperies have ended up on folding card tables being sold for nearly nothing. Madame Bordea has purchased sapphires for the price of a toy in a grocery store gum ball machine, she has found sterling silver ornaments for the price of a can of coca cola.<br />
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<br /></div>Marybeth Tamborrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04167818048526169240noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4714949764966715224.post-75222320337562118562012-07-10T20:30:00.001+02:002012-07-10T20:32:26.953+02:00Sylvie's House Part II<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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I have told you earlier about the joys of <a href="http://gooseintoulouse.blogspot.fr/2012/06/la-maison-de-sylvie.html">Sylvie's house</a>. It is built with a celebration of life. It is a tribute to how amazing living can be. It is a place where everything thrives: the fish in their little pond, the bees in the wild flowers of their fields, and the chickens under the dinner table picking up the bread crumbs. </div>
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These images do not do the magic of this fairytale house in the hills of the Pyrenees justice. It truly is like a child's book: and when at Sylvie's house, one has an inspiration to play. </div>
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Gil, Sylvie's husband, is an artist who has built everything from found materials: the wooden crafted kitchen with perfect nooks for storage, the bicycle-powered laundry machine, a Princess' dress for Sylvie, and most of the house itself. </div>
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Today we joined Sylvie and Gil for a stunning lunch. We had a salad of their homegrown cucumbers with the cheese from the goats on the other side of the mountain, followed by stewed turkey (which was delicious!), and a couscous ratatouille. I was blown away by the vinaigrette which accompanied their homegrown arugula, and when I asked what it was, Sylvie told me that it was their own homemade vinegar, mustard and oil! It had such a lip smacking acidity. It was the sort of taste that makes you just want to kiss. Showing off his complete fantasticalness, Gil then blew us all away with a apricot and apple tart. All accompanied, of course, by delicious wine that a friend of theirs makes. </div>
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Between the cheese and dessert courses, a white horse appeared from the birch trees and ferns, like a unicorn. So, I wandered over to it, and making better friends with its spotted companions, I decided why not hop on bareback! It was the first time I'd ever ridden without a saddle, but Peppino (as I soon learned she was called) was a fantastic ride. Hoping off Peppino I picked up a handful of gorgeous chanterelles, and walked over to eat the last bites of Tobias' piquant goat cheese and a perfectly funky roquefort. </div>
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</div>Marybeth Tamborrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04167818048526169240noreply@blogger.com0