Quand le chat n'est pas là...

(image courtesy of fanpop.com)

... les souris dansent.  Or as we say en anglais, When the cat's away, the mice will play.

The Ex-Ex is off with the other school administrators plotting out the school year.  They went to the coast for a couple of days.  Son #2 is here with me for the week, but even he disappeared to see Son #1 when I announced (24 hours notice) that I was having three friends over for dinner.  Two of the friends,  Iron Woman (the former Ms. Sunshine-- I can change names if I want... it's my blog) and Arles Lucy, are former teachers of his and the third, the BFF, is one of his best friend's mom.  He wouldn't have had to hang out downstairs with us, just put in an appearance to say hi, but he opted for hanging out with his brother.  Go figure.

The BFF had announced that she was in need of a Sabbatical Chef dinner-- (French) Southern Comfort Food and some girl time.  So, invites were sent out to the other two and the dinner party was on.  An emergency menu-planning meeting was called -- Foster's Market here in Durham was chosen and over a glass (or two) of lovely white Bordeaux

a shopping list was drawn up.  It has been a tough summer for the BFF, losing her brother to cancer, and for Arles Lucy, losing her house to a Texas-sized tree limb.  Iron Woman finished her little race in Kona, Hawaii with a medal, and I am still riding high on my teaching award.  So, a little party, some good food and wine, and plenty of laughter is just the thing, n'est-ce pas?  Just the girls, celebrating the good and the bad.  No ugly allowed.

I started the day with a shopping trip to Harris Teeter, where I ran into Iron Woman, mouth numb from a trip to the dentist.  She then ran into Arles Lucy at Wine Authorities.  They stocked up on Picpoul de Pinet and rosé, specifically Vénus de Pinchinat from (adorable) Alain de Welle of Domaine Pinchinat.

(I served as Alain's translator one Saturday at WA.  Quite a thrill for me!  I was paid in wine!!)

Iron Woman arrived early to help, bearing two loaves of still-warm-from-the-oven bread.  (See recipe below)

She also brought along Tigger, feeling that I had unjustly maligned him in one of my latest blog posts.

I let him stay.  I was afraid if I kicked him out she would leave, too.  Couldn't chance that.  She is an excellent sous-chef, peeler, chopper, and dishwasher.

The other girls arrived and we had a lovely, much needed evening.  We ate, we drank, we laughed, and just generally enjoyed each other's company.  That, my friends, is what makes a meal memorable.  Not necessarily the where or the what, but the who.

(If you click on the names of the recipes, it will take you to the blogpost where they are found.)

We ate tapenade à la Fanny (I think she would have been proud)--

(I made it in the KitchenAid mini food processor that Son #1 gave me for Christmas.  Worked like a charm!)

tarte aux tomates--

salade de chèvre chaud--

gratin dauphinois-- (I cannot find a photo of it!  Imagine thinly sliced potatoes cooked in cream and baked with gruyère cheese in a garlic-rubbed baking dish...)

haricots verts au persillade--

Iron Woman's bread with Irish salted butter--

I had Brie and St. André cheeses, but no one wanted to risk not having room for... dessert.

However, I had to provide just a bit of comic relief before the dessert course, of course.  I had stashed the potatoes and tomato tart leftovers in the oven since counter space was now non-existent.  But... I forgot about them and turned on the oven to preheat it to bake the tarte tatin.  Until I smelled a strange (awful) odor--

This is what happens to a spatula with a plastic handle if you leave it in a 350˚F oven...

I started to throw it out, but Arles Lucy convinced me to keep it as either an objet d'art or a reminder to always check the oven before you turn it on.

Comedy over, we proceeded to have our dessert.  The BFF is very proficient at this recipe and she also has a pan and glass dish exactly the proper size.  She fell in love with this when she visited me in Arles in 2007.

Tarte tatin--

It was a lovely evening.

Iron Woman brought her bread recipes.  She is thoughtful like that.  I am going to post the knotted one pictured above.

Garden Herb Bread

from Taste of Home  www.tasteofhome.com

makes one loaf

4 to 4-1/2 cups all-purpose flour

3 tablespoons sugar

2 packages (1/4 ounce each) active dry yeast

1-1/2 teaspoons salt

1-1/2 teaspoons dried marjoram

3/4 teaspoon dried thyme

3/4 teaspoon dried rosemary, crushed

3/4 cup milk

1/2 cup water

1/4 cup plus 1 tablespoon butter, divided

1 egg, beaten

Additional dried marjoram, thyme, and rosemary, optional

In a bowl, combine 1-1/2 cups flour, sugar, yeast, salt, marjoram, thyme, and rosemary.  In a saucepan over low heat, heat milk, water and 1/4 cup butter to 120˚-130˚.  Pour over the dry ingredients.  Add egg and blend well.  Beat on medium speed for 3 minutes.  Add enough remaining flour to form a soft dough.  Turn onto a floured surface and knead until smooth and elastic, about 6-8 minutes.  Place in a greased bowl, turning once to grease top.  Cover and let rise in a warm place until doubled, about 30 minutes.  Punch dough down.  Divide into three equal portions.  Shape each into a 28-inch rope.  Braid ropes; pinch ends to seal.  Tie braid into a knot.  Place on a greased baking sheet.  Cover and let rise until doubled, about 30 minutes.  Bake at 375˚F for 30-35 minutes or until golden brown; cover with foil during the last 15 minutes to prevent overbrowning.  Melt remaining butter; brush over bread.  Sprinkle with additional herbs if desired.  Remove from pan and cool on a wire rack.

Bon appétit, mes amies! Je vous aime.  Bisous!

Provence winemaker

Sometimes I just get so darned lucky that I have to pinch myself.  I got emails from Randy and Craig at Wine Authorities last week asking if I could possibly help out on Saturday with the scheduled tasting.  Alain de Welle from Domaine Pinchinat, in my beloved Provence, was coming to town to pour his wines in Durham.  Could I come and help out?  Perhaps translate a bit and help pour?  I shrieked with joy and quickly accepted.  Perhaps they were afraid I would camp out for three hours at the end of the tasting bar just to listen to French being spoken?  Oh, who cares.  Ça m'est égal.   It's all the same to moi, just as long as I am invited.

I had so much fun.  First, I met his charming wife and two sons, here for vacation.  Then, Alain and Bruno, the importer, born French but living in the US for 25 years now and working for Wine Without Borders, started off the tasting.

Since Bruno had a date with the beach and planned to leave after an hour, I listened intently and then helped out.
Alain sniffing...

Alain sipping...

It was a very busy three-hour tasting.  I learned that the vineyards have been in his family since 1753.  The soil has never been touched by a chemical.  He is certified as organic in France and he carries the bio label.

He adds the smallest amount of sulfites possible and guarantees that his wines will not give you a headache the next day.  What a guy.  (Although from a lot of articles that I have read, there is not conclusive evidence that sulfites cause headaches.  A lot of people think that they are only present in red wine, but whites also contain sulfites, sometimes in higher quantity than reds.)
Alain poured two whites, two rosés, and two reds.  The first in each color, his vin de pays, Vénus, and the second, Côtes de Provence, his AOC wines.  The AOC designation is given to agricultural products from certain regions and it is based on the idea of terroir or what the soil, weather conditions, surrounding vegetation and farming techniques give to a product.  There are AOC wines, cheeses, hay, honey, and many other products.  The AOC designation was first given to wine in 1905 and was used to protect regional winemakers.  The Côtes de Provence designation covers wines in the Var and Bouches-du-Rhône départements.  Grapes used by Alain in his wines include vermentino, clairette, grenache, syrah, cinsault, mourvèdre, cabernet sauvignon, and merlot.
The Venus wines are named for the Vénus de Pinchinat, a statue found on his property over 200 years ago.  Vénus now lives in the museum in Avignon.  I intend to visit her next March when I am back in Avignon.

Last March, while in France with my students, we saw two Vénus likenesses--
Vénus de Milo in the Louvre

and the Vénus d'Arles, in the hôtel de ville in Arles.

Alain's Côtes de Provence wines have a Roman pottery jug on the label.

It is common for farmers to find shards of Roman pottery in their fields when they are plowing.  (Can you imagine??)
Arles Lucy came at the end of the tasting and joined us.

(I took this photo of her last spring in Paris.  She will fuss at me, but once again, ça m'est égal because I like it.)
She and I have been big fans of Alain's rosé since we first found it at Wine Authorities.  This photo is one of my favorites, taken in her kitchen.

I've promised to email it to him.
The whites and reds are both excellent, also.  He uses no barrels to age his wine, so there is no oak taste present, just the fruit.  His wines age in stainless or concrete (yes, concrete-- I had no idea.)
I have all three colors chez moi.

And a bib (not a fancy French word I was unfamiliar with, although I spent a good 20 minutes puzzling over bib and trying to figure out what on earth it meant until I finally asked Alain's wife... bag in box.  The Frenchies just use bib as their word, it seems).
I got an autographed bottle from Arles Lucy as a birthday gift--

It was a wonderful way to spend my Saturday afternoon-- pouring wine, speaking French, talking about food, meeting great people who love wine and food (and some who speak French beautifully), and making a new friend.  I hope to visit the de Welle family in 2012, and their vineyard at the foot of Mt. Saint Victoire in Pourrières.

Bon appétit, les Welle, mes nouveaux amis!  C'était un vrai plaisir de faire votre connaissance!  À la prochaine!