2014MayInFrance

AOC CornasWhen In Paris
May 27, 2014

Back in Portland this morning. Memorial Day week, my favorite time in the Northwest. Winter is done, Spring is wrapping up. It starts getting light around 5AM and I’m up not long after. Barefoot on the deck, watering the arugula, watering the strawberries. Early summer: Everything is green, everything is bright, but there’s still the […]

May 23, 2014

A winemaker in Cornas tells us about bad years: “They are good for the vines. A year to rest.” In Burgundy they talk about cool years and warm years. Cool years are good for the Chardonnay, producing high acidity for the wines to age on. Warm years tend to be better for the Pinot. Every […]

May 18, 2014

Gare de Lyon. Champagne on the train. Beauty and joy and the French countryside rolling by at a 180 MPH. City of Lyon. Usual arrival confusion, first time in a city. In a traveller mood, we charge into the Metro. Pungency of smell (brakes and industrial lubricants), rush of charging commuters, someone’s playing Pata Pata […]

A bouchon was the idea. Henry Miller, in Tropic of Cancer: “Life,” said Emerson, “consists in what a man is thinking all day.” If that be so, then my life is nothing but a big intestine. I not only think about food all day, but I dream about it at night.” This is me, too. […]

May 17, 2014

We talked the next morning too, the night clerk and I. About how European guests will let him know what time they’ll be back to the hotel, as a courtesy, so he can know what time people are coming in and whether he can sleep. Whereas people from the English-speaking cultures, Americans or British or […]

May 16, 2014

5AM. Can’t sleep. Jet lag. Jonny In Europe, the usual plan. So I head downstairs to the lobby to tap-tap a few words on the laptop. And scare the shit out of the night desk clerk. “MY GOD! A ghost, with the light from your computer… J’ai pensé que vous étiez un fantôme!” Then he […]

Lingering over a noisette. We talk and we listen to others around us talk and smell the smoke from their Gitanes and hear the clopping of shoes walking by and then we talk some more. In the morning sun, over a noisette. Hard to define contentness with any more clarity… Laughing to myself: See that […]