Easter Weekend

Lovely views of the beach in Bandon, Oregon. Above is "Face Rock", named such for obvious reasons...

We met some new members of the family this weekend too. :)



Fantastic trip down in our new (used) car. We're thinking of naming her "Jacqueline" since she is quite the elegant lady. Good visit with extended family. My face is still sore from smiling for hours on end. Life is good.

Easter Bunny Fun

We're off to the southern Oregon coast to visit family for Easter. Good quality time with our little Ducky and all of her assorted relatives. Many thanks to our host and hostess, in advance.

The Knowledge

In another life, I would be a London cab driver. Always an Anglophile, I went over the edge in 1997, in London. My sister and I were heading to Gatwick to catch a plane to Marseille. The night before our departure, we made arrangements with the hotel desk clerk (an interesting Russian woman who disparaged our complaints about the lack of hot water as "oh, you Americans, you expect instant hot water...this is an old building, it takes time") for an early morning cab to take us to Victoria Station for the train to Gatwick.

So, there we were, the next morning, bright and early, standing in front of our hotel on Norfolk Square, bags at our sides, waiting for our cab. Before long, a cab pulls up, the driver hops out and begins to load our luggage into the trunk. I should say here that the driver was of middle Eastern heritage, and the cab was not a traditional "black cab", which we did not think much about...at the time. We ask him a about the cost of going to Gatwick by cab (too expensive) and generally hang about as he is busily piling our bags into the trunk. About the time he was finishing up, and we were getting into the back of the cab, a traditional black cab pulled up and yelled my last name as a question. I told him "yes" and he started haranguing the other cab driver and telling us he was our driver and this guy was an illegitimate cabbie, unlicensed, an opportunist, and we would be wise to get out and send him on his way. My sister and I, wide-eyed and a bit flustered, got out, asked for our luggage to be removed, and headed for the black cab.

Once safely ensconced in the black cab, and on our way, the driver began giving us what, in retrospect, was a lecture. Here is my best recollection:

"A licensed London cabbie has to pass a number of tests to qualify for a license. To pass these tests, the driver must have an encyclopedic knowledge of London's streets, alleyways, lanes, and bypasses. I spent two years driving around London on a motorbike to learn every street name and landmark. I sectioned the city off into grids and concentrated on one grid at a time. All the while, I was working a regular day job and had family responsibilities. The information required to pass these tests is called "The Knowledge" and it is no mean feat to learn it all. This is why I get very upset when innocent tourists are lured into unlicensed cabs. These cab drivers do not know the city, are uninsured, and they charge exorbitant fares. In general, to be safe, always take a 'black cab'." Or some such...

After that, I became quite fascinated with the geography of London. I bought a London street atlas and keep it by my side when reading anything set in London. Every street name is looked up and located on the various maps. When reading the Pepys Diaries, I trace Sam's movements using the atlas. This has become kind of an obsession.

So, as I said, "in another life"...

Wordless Wednesday

Wordless Wednesday

Where is the Eiffel Tower?

Well, in this picture, it is obvious...just over there. Life is full of regrets, and one of mine is being twice in Paris and missing out on seeing the Eiffel Tower. It does not seem possible, but it is true. Two wild taxi rides from train station to train station...and not once did I catch a glimpse of the Tower. Ah well, something to look forward to.

Old Gourmet Magazines

Not only do I have stacks of books around the house (since all the bookcases are full), but I have stacks of old cooking magazines too. I use them for menu ideas, seasonal recipes, and what not. March 1986 Gourmet, "The Magazine of Good Living" does not disappoint. I love pre-1990 issues of Gourmet. Not only are they full of recipes, they also have interesting articles of all kinds. Here are a few samples from the March 1986 table of contents:

- Gourmet Holidays: Antwerp
- The Ballymaloe Cookery School
- Paris' Open-Air Markets

- Purim: The Festival of Lots
- Christie's Wine Course
- Cooking With Jacques Pepin

You see, the magazine is about more than cooking. It really is about "fine living". After about 1990 I noticed a marked change though. Fewer articles, more advertising, less real content...maybe the publishers decided to take "nouvelle cuisine" concepts and apply them to the magazine too. Probably it was just a business decision, but they lost me.

Back to the March 1986 issue...I have learned so much about the city of Antwerp. Having raced by it on a high-speed train a few years back, I'm now sorry we did not stop there to seek out some of its museums, diamond centers, and of course, chocolatiers. I learned about the history of the name "Antwerp". Ant is "hand" and werpen is "to throw". This is from the legend of the Roman warrior Silvius Brabo (whose statue stands in the square of the Grote Markt):

"...Silvius Brabo, the Roman warrior who freed the Schelde land from a reigning giant. The giant was an unpleasant bully who extracted exorbitant tolls from all who passed along the river and cruelly whacked off the hand of anyone who wouldn't pay. Brave and indignant Brabo fought the giant, cut off the ogre's hand, hurled it into the Schelde, and practiced posing while some clever Flemings translated his good deed into a suitable city name...Delightful reminders of the legend are also found in every bakery and chocolate shop in the form of delicious cookies and bitter, milk, or white chocolate Antwerpen handjes."

I also learned from this article that traditionally, until the middle of the fifteenth century, only images of the Virgin could be decorated with diamonds. The French Kings changed all that. And now Antwerp is (at least in 1986) the world's leading diamond city.

Besides Antwerp, I now want to visit Ireland and go to the Ballymaloe Cookery School. I wonder if it is still in business? Hmmmm...an internet research project. Stay tuned, I will let you know what I find out.

So, if you see a pre-1990 Gourmet magazine at a garage or library sale, buy it. I guarantee you will find a treasure trove of ideas for "fine living".




-

Weekend Visiting

We're off to the coast to visit family and have a little break.

Sanglier

Le Sanglier. The wild boar of France, sus scrofa scrofa. Shy, not often seen, but much maligned, le sanglier is the most hunted mammal in France. It is considered to be very dangerous but this is "largely unfounded" according to Lost-in-France.com. Most dangerous is the female who "will understandably protect her young if she feels threatened." This is where my story begins...

In 1997, my sister Rhonda and I visited Provence. We were taking a few last minute pictures of the countryside on our last day. We had just visited the hilltop village of Brantes and were meandering our way to the Marseilles airport. Nearing Beaumes de Venise, we pulled in to a picnic area to snap a few pictures of the "Dentelles de Montmirail", a rock formation resembling dog teeth or lace, no one is sure (dentelle could mean either in French).

Rhonda and I were standing beside our car when suddenly I caught a glimpse of a strange looking deer, or dog, or "Oh my God!" it's a wild boar!!! There she stood, snorting and grunting at us, her teats hanging nearly to the ground ---very menacing indeed. We jumped into the car, she ran back into the bushes and that was that.

The following year, my husband and I traveled back to France. In Beaune, the wine "capital" of Burgundy, we found this wine bottle stopper in a kitchen shop. My husband fashioned an Oregon wine cork to "Madame", our very own Sanglier.