What we ate on Day Six in Provence

When we did our gite experience (highly reccoed as the only way to do Rhone/Provence) our fondest, most lasting memories were of those markets.

Our hostess, a thoughtful lady, had composed a list of each and every town and village within the Ventoux and Luberon with the day of the market for them. And had further highlighted what she considered the best of the best.

Those pictures brought back some memories. So, thanks.

Bill/Jenise: the most sensory of the experiences were always when I would stand in awe in front of the many portable vertical rotisseries where they would spear chickens and rabbits and, while they were roasting, they would shovel in tons of new potatoes, with added handfuls of sel gris and rosemary thrown in, in the catch pan at the bottom to cook in the fat dripping from the little critters. (I am salivating as I type this.)

Jenise and Bill, reading about this trip and seeing the pictures is killing me!! Coming so soon after first reading A Year In Provence, especially. I must go someday.

[Jenise]

Jenise and Bill, reading about this trip and seeing the pictures is killing me!! Coming so soon after first reading A Year In Provence, especially. I must go someday.

Two days ago, Robert, we parked ourselves in the afternoon sun at a cafe in our village's town square and ordered marc. Or at least two of us did--it's been years since I read that book but I had to have that Peter Mayle experience.

[Jenise]

When we did our gite experience (highly reccoed as the only way to do Rhone/Provence) our fondest, most lasting memories were of those markets.

Our hostess, a thoughtful lady, had composed a list of each and every town and village within the Ventoux and Luberon with the day of the market for them. And had further highlighted what she considered the best of the best.

Those pictures brought back some memories. So, thanks.

Bill/Jenise: the most sensory of the experiences were always when I would stand in awe in front of the many portable vertical rotisseries where they would spear chickens and rabbits and, while they were roasting, they would shovel in tons of new potatoes, with added handfuls of sel gris and rosemary thrown in, in the catch pan at the bottom to cook in the fat dripping from the little critters. (I am salivating as I type this.)

Hoke, ours did likewise. And after going to the smaller market at Sainte Cecile and then the larger one at Vaison la Romaine, there was no contest about going back to Sainte Cecile which was just large enough. Last night's dinner was a tender boneless rolled veal roast we bought from the one butcher at that market, and it was a marvel of what that cut could be. We all agreed that it's a quality of meat we just can't get at home--let alone find at a Saturday market. The French live so well!