Things I have learned on this vacation in France:

1) There is no way I will ever be able to pronounce French words correctly. Example:

Colleen and I are in the tourist office in Montrichard, and I am trying to ask the simple question about the “Fete du Pain,” a bread festival we read about.

Me: do you know of the Fete du Pain?
Tourist office girl (with blank stare, some time elapses): you want a bread and breakfast?
Me: Uh, no, FETE DU PAIN.
TOG: (another blank stare, more time elapses): Fast food?

Finally I wrote it down and TOG was like, Ahhhhh, Fete du Pain! Which she did not have any info on, but we found it anyway, more on that later.

2) French people are very nice, even in Paris. Certainly we ran across a few cranky people; but for the most part everyone has been super cool.

3) It is possible to have a bad meal in France. Up until now, we thought it was perhaps impossible. But now we are in Honfleur on the Norman Coast and we have are 0/2. There was grit in my crepe, Tom Colicchio would have a FIT.

4) Roundabouts, especially the 450th, suck. What is the purpose, anyway?

5) I miss Paris terribly, am so happy I get to go back for one more day.

As for now, we got here yesterday after four great days in the Loire Valley. We had a great little cottage, toured around all day and then went back in the evenings for dinner. We saw many castles and cool little towns, vineyards and cornfields. The Fete du Pain day was the one really hot day, and that was one hoppin fete. They had a big band; two drummers, electric guitar, horns, four singers; all the musicians of different ages; there were dancers and 80 cent glasses of wine, and of course, many breads. Our last day, we went to another fete, this time the Fete of the Oeuf (egg) but this one was not so great; it was like a big garage sale, though I did have a tasty omelette and another eighty cent glass of wine.

After the fete we drove to the medieval wine village of Chinon. I loved this town. On the hill, there is a castle, the Plantagenets lived there; I walked in the same steps as Richard the Lionheart. In the village we went to two wonderful wine bars. At the first, for lunch, my fabulous French served me once again; when I asked for the assiette charcuterie, the waiter replied, in a strong German accent, ” you want a big plate of MEAT.” Indeed, it was one tasty plate of meat.
After hiking up to, and around, the castle, we went to another wine bar owned by a very nice guy. I’ll post the name of the place later. It was a lovely day and I definitely want to go back and spend more time around there.

So, it took us a good part of yesterday to get here to Honfleur. It really is a beautiful, atmospheric place. It is also very touristy, and there are many people here, mostly Brits. We had a bit of a rough start – we were tired from the long drive, and then finally got to our cottage here, which we are not too thrilled with. I think it started when we were trying to figure out who would sleep where, and I saw a massive spider on the bottom floor, where one of the beds is. It was like an Arnold Schwarzaneggar spider. Or maybe, an Edith Piaf tarantula. Whatever. Suffice to say, neither of us are willing to sleep next to that thing. So, I am sleeping on the couch in the middle floor, it is comfortable enough, but we are still not too thrilled and I had nightmares about bug bites.

Then we went onto a wine bar, it was OK and then a truly bad dinner; new rule – do not eat somewhere just because it looks cute.

We did end up in a really nice bar that had an excellent jazz band, and it was especially great until some British tourists came to the table next to us and the girl kept her cigarette next to Colleen’s face. Finally I blew it back at her and she sniffed a sorry. The waiter, a very cool guy, came up to me at one point and amusingly, asked if I had any REGRET coming there. No, I said, and it was true, it was the best part of the day, even with the lameass table next to us.

Today we are wandering; we wandered all through town, the tourist part and the part where it seems the real people live, we wandered to the sucky creperie, and now we have wandered to the internet bar, very close to our cottage, the one with the mammoth spider in it. The sun is out, and I and not such a stranger here, in this town of tourists.

Sorry for the weird writing – I am having a hard time getting the hang of these keyboards. I will definitely be posting more soon…

A bientot!

It is a bright and sunny Saturday here in the Loire Valley. I have to be quick – there is only one computer for rent in this whole town… we are in Montrichard; there is a castle on the hill, and our farmhouse is about five minutes away. We are staying in a very quiet place surrounded by forests and cornfields, a big change from Paris.

So far we have visited three chateaux – as in castle not wine estate; Chenonceau, Chambord, and Chaumont. It is pretty trippy to walk up the same steps as Catherine di Medici… today we are going to try to find a festival of bread; and we are going to Amboise, where Leonardo da Vinci spent his last few years.

Yesterday, at the biweekly farmers market here in Montrichard, we bought enough food to eat in every night; a roast chicken and some potatoes that cooked under the chicken, sausages, mushrooms from the mushroom lady, onions from the onion guy, pork rillettes, figs, melon… I wish our farmers market was like this. I think I could live on those roasted chickens.

So, two more days here and then up to Normandy where I hope to find a regular internet place.

A bientot!

I don’t think I’ve slept so well in years, as I’ve slept these last three nights in Paris. I don’t know if it is the running around we’ve been doing or what, but it is awesome. Gets me ready for the next day, that’s for sure.

Yesterday we took the metro out to a ginormous market in the 18th arrondisement at Porte Clignancourt. There were hundreds of stalls with the usual – T-shirts with Che Guevara on them, incense, bongs and hookahs, cheap scarfs, the smell of Beadies and maybe, weed… and literally thousands of people jamming the streets. Mostly young Parisians of every imaginable race, and only a few tourists – until we got to the quieter antique market part where the window shoppers were mostly Americans. The antique part kind of bored me. I think I am more into markets like the one at the Mauerpark in Berlin where you have to dig through piles of junk where you might find something cool. That’s the garage sale junkie in me I guess.

I did buy a really awesome handmade purse in the regular market, sort of an olive green with brown accents – what is it with me and olive green, anyway?

Ate pizza for lunch. Yum.

After that it was a bit late to go to the Pierre et Gilles thing at Jeu de Paume so Colleen and I will do that Wednesday. Instead we went to the Place de Madeleine to look at some shops and to go to the wine shop/bar Lavinia. Lots of people there too, but gone was the county fair on crack atmosphere, and present was the Union Square but with way better cafes and pastries atmosphere. It seemed like every street I looked down, there was some remarkable building at the end of it.

We ordered a somewhat pricey (for France) bottle of white wine at Lavinia – a white Saumer from the Loire. I didn’t like it. But the shop was very cool. Since I have a wine shop right across the street, why buy wine and lug it around?

We walked back to the Pont Neuf at the sunset hour and the light here was fantastic. All the buildings, fountains, bridges, glowed. As we walked on that little quay by the Seine I said “it’s like a magical kingdom” to which Colleen said “don’t say THAT” alluding to my dislike of anyone calling any place Disneyland (well, except Disneyland.) But it’s not my friggen fault Walt Disney was born. Last night, Paris DID look like a magical kingdom. We passed a couple of woman with a full on picnic – complete with wine glasses. We MUST do this before we leave.

Before we decided to stay in the 5th, I had heard that it was “touristy” and I do remember that from when I stayed here in 1999. Where our apartment is, it is not touristy at all – it is a real neighborhood, one that I really love. But on our way home last night we walked through some streets with ever imaginable sort of restaurant, all of them packed, and the streets packed with people. Saturday night, and everyone is out. We came back here though, and ate cheese, a salami made with Beajolais, figs, pork rillettes, a roast chicken, and Greek salad. Oh, and a really great bottle of St. Emilion that I bought across the street for 12 Euro. Awesome!

Today we are meeting some slowtrav peeps and also my friend Thomas who moved here a few years ago. And I want to go to the Cluny museum and the Bastille market.

There is so much to see and do here, I wish I had a month. Or a year.

Tonight’s dessert query:

Colleen (looking at menu): What is this? (Pointing at dish called “Camembert au l cru mouie a la Louche”):

Waitressperson: Uh, (rolling eyes) CAMEMBERT?

But it wasn’t just Camembert, it was a piece of Camembert with a side of butter, surrounded by a chocolate drizzle. I’ve seen many things, but cheese with a butter chaser for dessert is a new one for me.

We’ve just been here a day and a half and the time has been very, very full so far. Our apartment is on a very cool street and there don’t seem to be too many tourists here. Actually, all of Paris seems very empty and quiet. Except for the Auchan supermarket in a mall near La Defense but I will get to that later.

We’ve covered a lot of ground so far. Yesterday, even with jet lag, we seemed to walk forever. Today we had a ton of energy and went to the war museum at the Invalides, but I was most impressed with the gardens there. Then, since it is the 10th anniversary of Princess Diana’s death, we went to the Pont Alma where there was a bunch of people, flowers, photos, and probably some of those paparazzi that chased her into the tunnel in the first place. After that we climbed to the top of the Arch de Triomphe and we STILL had energy, so we took the metro out to La Defense.

La Defense is this giant metal square thing in the middle of a business district, way out of the center of things. (In tourist terms, anyway.) From the top of the Arch de Triomphe, you can see it, towering over the boulevard like the future as seen by a crazy Renaissance prophet who may or may not have been eating too many roots and scrubs. After that we had a couple of glasses of wine in a cafe, which was good because I was about to take Colleen and Kim to the craziest, most intense supermarket experience I think any of us have ever experienced.

I love the supermarket chain Auchan.

Auchan is like the biggest supermarket you’ve ever seen plus Target, times infinity. So when I read somewhere that there was an Auchan very close to La Defense, well, let’s just say that was part of the pull, for me at least. We went in and it was absolutely heaving with people. Perhaps we should have left right there and then, but I couldn’t. It’s like a drug to me, that place. This one had a dozen different canned cassoulets and all manner of trippy French tv dinners. I guess I am timid when it comes to certain things but in a supermarket I am not and I ruled those aisles. Thousands (and I am not exaggerating) cleared out when they saw me barreling through with my hand basket full of jars and cans of strange potted meats and various spreads, plus a bottle of Burgundy that cost less than five euro. But it took forever to check out and the business guy behind us about had a coronary he was so impatient. I felt like handing him a bottle of grappa and a packet of condoms – homeboy needed something to calm down. Can you buy valium over the counter here? If not he needs a prescription.

By the time we left there it was pretty late so by the time we metroed back and went to dinner it was almost 10. We went to a place around the corner called Louis Vins – a bit hit and miss, partly because we had absolutely no clue what the heck we were ordering. We had a Marlings Menu Master for France which was less than worthless. I ended up with a salad with mystery organs and some sort of cured meat (tongue?) and what I think was a sort of rawish foie gras, served on warm greens. There was also a blond hair in it. I guess I should have pointed that out but our blond waitressperson was already kind of an asshole, and while I move with stealth and cunning in a crowded Auchan, I am no good in situations like being a jerk in a language no one understands (my “French.”) Anyway. The rest of the meal was pretty good. Colleen had rabbit with mashed potatoes, Kim had a pork stew thing with lentils – really yummy lentils – and I had veal which was kind of tough and chewy in parts, but still OK. I got Pain Perdu which is like French Toast for dessert and that rocked.

So now it is late and I guess we will be running around again all day tomorrow so I’d better call it a night. We are having a great time – perfect, really, even with the hair in the salad.

Top Chef last night was a “reunion” episode of sorts – looks like they are going to drag out this season as long as they can. Perhaps until Project Runway starts in the fall?

Anyhoo it was pretty boring. Even Dave was boring. Harold looked like he didn’t want to be there, but Lee Anne looked fantastic. She seems to be taking some sort of Glow Pill.

What the hell was Ilan wearing? He was wearing an ill-fitting tuxedo, but to add insult to injury he wore no socks and had his pant legs pulled up. He looked like a scared rabbit when they asked him about his future plans.

And Harold just got a one-star review from Frank Bruni at the New York Times. It’s a strange review, because Bruni seemed to like much of what he ate at Perilla, but gave it one star. Weird.

Since I’m one of the only Stephen Asprinio lovers in the universe, I was thrilled to see he is working on opening a wine bar in Costa Mesa. Cool! Costa Mesa is a lot closer than New York! And it’s possible that I will know people that will end up working there…

There are many things I want to do. Having many glasses of wine with Stephen Asprinio is right up there at the top. Flying to New York City to eat at Perilla is, too.

Sometimes when my neighbors get a little loud I blast this song.

Unfortunately I don’t think they really get it.

I am seriously lagging on the blog thang. Time seems short – but it’s not. Summer, I guess.

Renee and Eddie built their beach island on the 4th. They got there at 5:00 AM and worked for five hours while a bunch of cops watched. Then, at 10:00 when they were done, the cops came over and told them to level it!

Kind of sucked, after all that work. Thankfully they did not let this ruin their day. They piled all the ice (which was suppose to go in a moat) in a pile and stuck a palm tree into it. This palm tree made it very easy to find them on a very packed beach.

The rest of that day involved a great deal of fantastic wine and delicious food, and I have earned the uneasy reputation of she who likes to lay on the floor and listen to live Wilco really loud.

Yesterday, Margaret invited me to go to the Padres game with her. We started at Cafe Chloe, a little French bistro a few blocks from the park. It was my first time to this popular place and I totally fell in love with it. We ate a prawn brochette that had a garlicky lemon sauce, a little mushroom tart and cheese tart, and finally the charcuterie plate, which was a little dish of pork rillettes. It was all amazing and now I am more ready than ever for France in September. Pork rillettes is a sort of shredded pork thing all mixed up with fat and you spread it on bread… I know that does not sound so great but let me tell you, it was fantastic.

On to the ballpark. I am always a bit blown away by Petco Park. It’s a lovely baseball stadium, with the downtown highrises all around, and yesterday the game did not start until 5:00 so the green on the field and the light in the air was especially beautiful. But, there is something that weirds me out about Petco Park. I think it is the mass consumerism that goes on there, and the high prices of everything. In every possible nook and cranny, there is a place to buy something. Guys walk around selling bags of popcorn for SIX DOLLARS. What is that, a six thousand percent markup? I’m no baseball purist, but heck, is it not about the game? It’s not like tickets are cheap, either.

My friend Mark, who is a baseball freak, would have also been very pissed off by the constant comings and goings of spectators while the ball is in motion. I don’t know shit about baseball (besides the basics) but I do know you go to the bathroom between innings.

Everythings been a bit weird lately, so I’m not surprised I was feeling the way I was there. We came back to OB and went to the Vine for some wine and a cheese plate – and everything seemed, for a time, in it’s right place.

Starting today I am going vegan for one week, just to see if I can do it. I’m allowing myself a little bit of cream in my coffee; that’s it. Maybe it will keep me grounded during a week that already looks ugly; maybe, it will send me spinning out of control.

Top Chef is on again Wednesday. My Spoon package should arrive tomorrow. Something to look forward to in bean and rice land.

It’s 8:45 A.M. and very foggy here in Ocean Beach, yet I just checked the OB webcam and the beach is already packed!

If you are reading today, check it out.

Renee and Eddie from The Vine have this plan to build an island with a palm trees and recliners made out of sand on the beach, and they got down there (well, they were supposed to, anyway) at 5:00 A.M. So, that will be the first stop of the day. I have this plan to stay somewhat out of trouble, but the problem is, everytime I have that plan, it seems to go in the opposite direction. Maybe the better idea is to plan to get totally hammered. Then, the opposite thing might happen.

Hopefully I’ll have some photos of “Rosenbaum Island” tomorrow. Happy 4th, everyone.

You know how it is when you are watching the news and there is bad weather somewhere and there are people stranded at the airport and you are like, thank god that isn’t me?

Today it IS me. Stuck in fucking HOUSTON of all places. Everyone knows how much I love it here.

I’ve been working here at few days at the Texas Wine and Grapegrowers conference, and today I was oh, so ready to get home. I was so ready I showed up for my flight five hours early, hoping to stand by on something earlier. And yes, I called; I called yesterday and they said it would be no problem to stand by, through Dallas and on to San Diego. An hour before I left for the airport, I called and they said the flights were now full, but I wanted to get the fuck out of dodge so bad I decided to go to the airport and pray.

So I got to the airport and what did I see? A long string of CANCELLED all the way down the board. I got a really yicky feeling in my stomach. The line was already long. I started asking people how long it would take to drive to Santa Fe, New Mexico. (Too long.)

So there we are all in the Houston airport, all pretty much screwed, with a non-moving line. The thought of staying the night, much less two or three, was making me feel queasy. A woman came around with little squares of paper with a phone number to CALL American while we were in line. So I called, and the wait was twenty-two minutes, but a super cool guy behind me got through before I did (he was on the phone to them way before that lady started passing out the phone numbers) and he let me talk to the agent after he was done.

The agent was like, well, can you fly from Hobby Airport? And I was like, I’ll do whatever you want, just get me out of here. And she told me she had ONE seat on Monday.

“NO.” I told her. “I ABSOLUTELY cannot wait until Monday, I have to get out TOMORROW.” I wasn’t mean, or bitchy, but there must be something resembling angst or desperation in my voice because she put me on hold for a really long time and then came back and told me she got me on a non-stop on Continental, first thing tomorrow.

Here the poor guy who lent me his phone had to wait around for me for like twenty minutes. As I was thanking him profusely, practically offering sex (no not really but you get the idea) he said “we’re all in the same boat” and walked away.

If I would have arrived later, I would have been screwed. Well actually, I probably would be DRIVING home right now. I am telling you, I would not spend another day here. I wouldn’t.

So I am here at the Hilton Garden Inn where the airport van is bringing another ten stranded passengers every fifteen minutes. I can’t believe I am getting out tomorrow.

Well I gotta go, because all these people are walking by looking meaningfully at this computer. Tomorrow, I will write about some of the crazy shit that was going through my head about an hour ago as I sipped from a crappy glass of pinot grigio on a barren strip of land with nothing, and I mean nothing, on it except for a bunch of boring airport hotels on it.

It could be worse, but it could be better. How come I never get stranded in Paris?

Still on the road, and I ask this question like, ten times a day. When confronted with a problem or situation, or a crappy hotel room, I ask myself, what would Anthony Bourdain do?

I read this interview with Rex Pickett, the guy who wrote “Sideways,” where he said he didn’t want to do some TV show qwhere he would be an “Anthony Bourdain type.” Dude, even if someone injected you with cool syrum, I don’t think you stand a chance. Actually if there is one person who could never be anything like Anthony Bourdain, it would be Rex Pickett.

Anyway. I am almost home, sorry about non-posting in the last few weeks but it is troublesome from where I currently reside (nowhere for very long.) In the meantime, here is the Shins new video, from their new record Wincing the Night Away. It is awesome.

Home Saturday! Yippee!