La ferme d'Annemarie

For a very long time I have dreamed of living in France for an extended period. A month. Two months. 6 months. A Year in Provence by Peter Mayles surely nourished the idea. Last January, my friend Joanna and I were having lunch in Schomberg and I threw the idea at her: "Jo, how about a month in the South of France?" Without hesitation she said yes. Yes. I latched onto this word and by the next morning had located a lovely farm house in Burgundy. Not quite the South but it was France and the house oh so lovely. We agreed on the month of October, nine months away.

After travelling by plane, train and automobile, a total of 17 hours, we arrived at La ferme d'Annemarie yesterday, October 1. Exhausted but exhilarated.

Dating back to the 19th century, one side of the house is flanked by a typical mâconnais veranda. Stone was used in the construction as it was and still is an abondant resource of the mâcon countryside. The ground floor is reserved for the cellar. The second floor or "maison haute" is made up of a large room with a great hearth and a large adjacent room. At the end of the veranda, stairs lead to the attic.

Without a doubt this house was the home of a "vigneron" or winegrower. His was a simple existence, his only tool a pick used to care for his vineyard. Following the harvest, the grapes would be taken to the local château or the house of the local bourgeois.

The typical mâconnais veranda.

The veranda acted as an outdoor vestibule,
a kitchen and a place where the lady of the house
loved spending time and chat with the villagers.

Paris Après Ski

After our fill of skiing in Haute-Savoie, of eating tartiflette et reblochon and of drinking génépi et bière sérieuse, three of us hopped on the TGV to Paris. The train is by far the best way to travel. For a song, we booked our seats in roomy and luxurious first class with front row seats to the French countryside.

Through France Homestyle, we booked a two bedroom apartment in the Quartier Latin in the 5th arrondissement. This neighbourhood is home to La Sorbonne, le collège de France, the panthéon and the famous boulevard St-Michel. From the gare de Lyon, it was a quick taxi ride. Marie-Noël greeted us and gave us a quick tour of our new abode at 42, rue Descartes, Paris, 5ième arrondissement, France! Charming! We were charmed! Being Sunday, it was doubtful that we could easily get a few groceries. Marie-Noël was helpful to point out that we would find whatever we needed "chez les arabes" since they would be open on a Sunday. Bien sûr.

For our first night in Paris, we decided to have dinner at our neighbourhood bistro, La maison de Verlaine. That night we discovered how small town our Latin Quarter was. It appeared that our new neighbours had not missed a thing about our arrival. Bienvenue! Interesting facts about this establishment: not only did Verlaine die in the house in 1896, between 1921-1925 Hemingway rented a room where he did his writing. He lived just around the corner with his wife Hadley. Makes me want to read his Moveable Feast!

 
For four consecutive days, we set out late morning to tour as true tourists. Our first stop was the Cathédrale Notre-Dame de Paris. And then the Hop On Hop Off bus took us around the major arrondissements: l'Opéra, l'Arc de triomphe, les tuileries, Chaillot, les Invalides, la tour de Gustave Eiffel, St-Germain-des-Près and back full circle to our Latin Quarter. Day two took us to visit Garnier's Paris National Opera and lunch at the famous Café de la paix, a true Parisian landmark since 1862. Wednesday we took the train to Versailles. How power corrupts. Such extravagance while people starved. And finally, on Thursday we hopped on the metro and headed to Gustave's tower. Failing to quickly figure the queue system, we took the stairs to the top: 1,665 steps to the third level! Bravo Pat! You're amazing!

If I were asked what I liked best about Paris, I would say the following... I love how "Parisien" the Parisians are! It is a way of life that is bred deeply in the bones of its people. The school kids walking two by two holding hands with their class mate all the while shouting and laughing. The men playing boules in the park on a Sunday afternoon. The sound of church bells ringing the Angelus. The Parisian walking home snacking on pieces of bread from the baguette that he casually holds in his hand.

Heavenly Skiing in Les Trois Vallées

Vallée numéro 1: Les Menuires. Vallée numéro 2: Méribel. Vallée numéro 3: Courchevel. Amazing ski terrain! Even the Ski Bees' die hards are in awe at the vertical landscape and horizontal span of these three valleys. Greens, blues, reds, blacks, off pistes, powder, bumps and more. Something for everyone and for all levels.

9 o'clock for six straight days. We head out and ski for a couple of hours. The mountains are peppered with alpine bistros aux saveurs de Savoie. Mid morning, we stop for a café of whatever-strikes-your-fancy: au lait, cappuccino, expresso or even a bière sérieuse for some or a petite 25 cl for others. Hungry? A little pain au chocolat maybe? A tarte aux myrtilles perhaps... It's all very civilized, n'est ce pas?

Back on our skis, we ski into the afternoon until our stomachs complain. Nothing sharpens the appetite more than fresh winter air or in this case pure alpine delight! All agree to break for a bite of Savoyard cuisine: tartiflette, boeuf bourguignon with polenta, galettes, etc. The meals are hot, filling and oh so delicious!  Must not forget the digestif... the génépi and the expresso to finish off the lunch... Oh dear! Will we slide down the mountains or roll?

Almost two solid days of snowfall greeted the Ski Bees!

Is this really March 23?

Monday afternoon (day 2) the sun greeted us!

It is like skiing in heaven!

Bouquetin des alpes

Les copains!

Soupe au Folie Douce!

Nathalie, our feisty ESF guide!

Tartiflette

Great Ski Bee Buds!

Fromages Savoyards!

Our resident vet and her French Bulldog!

A Necessary Evil

I haven't been happy with my wheels for the past year. Things just kept squeaking, screeching and squealing. And then one day the turbo failed... again... for the third time!! At the dealership the service guy just hears me out and says: "I'm sorry to hear that." Hhmm. So last week I was not one, not two but three days without a car. Oh woe is me. What is three days without a car when innocent people are getting bombs dropped on their heads. Bare with me.

When I get my car back, I drive home with a significantly lighter wallet. I tell my car: "You got to go!"

Over the weekend I research. On Monday afternoon I test drive in Newmarket. I meet my match in the Volkswagon Golf TDI! Sweet ride. So Mr. Car Salesman, what will you give me for my little B? He gives me an amount and I tell him he's $1,200 shy of what I'm looking for. I walk out.

Tuesday morning I request a quote from Barrie and Richmond Hill Volkswagon. They're apples to apples with Newmarket. For the trade in, they're reluctant to give me a price sight unseen. I understand that so I request a ball park price. I tell them all about my little B leaving out the bad turbo and pathetic braking system details. I am firm and aggressive. I am my true Taurus self.

While I'm working away an email comes in from Newmarket: "My manager will give you your asking price for your little B". Hhmm... I try to negotiate on winter tires. He comes back with a decent price. I tell him I'll be in after 3.

At 2.45 I boot up the 404 to Newmarket Volkswagon. Park my B and my phone rings. It's Richmond Hill. They'll give me my asking for the B. Too late. I'm in Newmarket ready to sign. The young lady begs me to tell her how she can sweeten the deal. I think she's fallen on her head and laugh her off. She insists. OK. I want free snow tires on rims and $1,000 discount. She asks me to wait one minute. She'll call me back. OK.  One minute.

A minute and a half later my phone rings. She tells me that Richmond Hill will throw in free snow tires on rims and the discount. Deal. I'll be there in 30 to sign.

I like to think of myself as a half decent human being. I decide to take the time to thank the nice people of Newmarket. I tell them that I'm going to the Hill 'cause they offered me the moon. Hang on the fellow says. A minute later I'm sitting in his manager's office. I feel like a bad kid in the principal's office. This sales manager is serious. So serious that he doesn't even get up to shake my hand. I think he's upset. "So you've been shopping around" he says. My phone rings. It's Richmond Hill. I put them off to the next day at 10 a.m.

30 minutes later. Still in Newmarket. I sign the dotted line for exactly what I wanted and more.

Remember. I am a decent human being. I told Richmond Hill 10 a.m. The next day at 9, I call my young sales lady. I begin by saying that I am cancelling our appointment. She's disappointed. I tell her I signed with Newmarket. She's devastated. I thank her for her great efforts and tell her that I think she'll be very successful one day. Yikes.

For once in my life when buying a car, I don't feel like I've been taken for a ride. I'm pleased as punch for reversing the roles.

Bayfield on Lake Huron

According to National Geographic, Bayfield has one of the most beautiful sunset in the world.

The Little Inn of Bayfield was built in the 1830s. Ours is the Widow's Walk room: bedroom on one level and the walk at the top of a flight of stairs with windows in all directions overlooking the town. It is rustic, quaint and quite pleasant. I hear the wind and a distant cardinal. The coffee is good. What more can one ask for?

The top picture shows off the widow's walk 

Great old pictures! The top one is obviously taken in the 1800s. No trees, no verandah and no cars.

Other than another couple, Jim and I are the only guests. 'Tis very quiet. So quiet that the dining room looked too lonely to eat in last night. We opted to dine in the pub for a friendlier and warmer atmosphere.

First we negotiated with Tom the waiter: we'll trade our deserts for an extra appetizer. No problem. So we ordered. Jim started with a Crayfish Risotto: red sorrel, blue cheese powder and XO piperada (spanish tomato base sauce). I had the Black Truffle Ravioli: smoked walnuts, brussel leaves, green peppercorn in a foie gras sauce (nine time reduced which I cleaned up with the fresh whole wheat bread). And we shared our desert trade off which was the Roasted Quebec Foie Gras: pain perdu, freeze dried berries with a white cacao cloud. Oh, la, la.

Did I forget the wine? Morse Code Shiraz. We had selected another Shiraz but the message got blurred and this is the red we got... Hhmmm, not as fun a wine experience as the Stone Road Grill. Quel dommage.

Our mains:

Jim had the winner! 24hr Braised Lamb Bolognese: home made garganelli pasta, black truffle with big chunks of reggiano. Yum! I was quite delighted with mine although I couldn't resist taking jabs at Jimmy's garganelli! I had the Coleman Farm Black Angus Faux Filet: fingerling dauphinoise, roated cippolline (pearl onions) with a sauce perigueux. Très riche et bon.

We waddled back to our room. Jimmy crawled into bed and I went up to the walk to watch the night.
Bonne Nuit!

Niagara-on-the-Lake :: Unedited

Harbour House

First draft.

It is so nice to get away! The operative words for this trip are: quaint, good food and comfort. First stop, Niagara-on-the-Lake. It’s all about spending our dollar in our backyard. Argh, argh. Nothin’ wrong with that!

And what a fine day we picked. Plus 18˚ sunshine with wind to rip the horns off a bull! I can’t remember the last time I drove on a sky way. One thing I know for sure, I’ve never driven on a sky way in high winds. Very exhilarating! More like white knuckling it.

Niagara-on-the-Lake. The last time I was here was with my sister Dara-Lyn by boat. We stayed at the NOTL Yacht Club on the river for two bumpy but lovely days! One day to replenish. Riding up and down the scenic strip looking like two gypsies on our tiny boat bikes laden with groceries and wine. We swam in the river off the boat it was so hot. At night we watched a lightning show over Toronto – all the way, across the lake. It’s a fine memory.

Harbour House. Located immediately across the NOTL YC. The boats are on the hard, masts up and halyard clanking away in the wind. It truly is music to my ears.

We walked the scenic strip and popped in and out of shops. Actually found some great deals at the Irish Design Shop: Harris Tweed and such! What classics!

As I write this, Jimmy is revising something work related. Incroyable non?! I don’t mind. He’s a good man that Charlie Brown. Oh and did I say that the robins are here. There’s nothing like the sound of a robin in early spring…well maybe the sound of clanking halyards!

 

We booked dinner at the Stone Road Grill. Bon appétit (what is Julia Child doing in my head?)! Tripadvisor said: “Don’t let the strip mall fool you!” And they are so right. The service was warm, friendly and oh so helpful! We didn't like our table...ok, I take that back. I didn't like our table and asked if we could have a booth, 'cause that's what I do (says Jimmy). We got the best booth in the house. The mother of all booth. Sitting side by each, we agreed on our appetizers, sides and entrées. Bring two forks and one plate, we're sharing it all (well truth be told, there were already lots of cutlery and fine linen on the table like in all fine establishments, even those in strip malls!). Our friendly host offered to pair all of our courses with different wines. 

Fois Gras Poutine

Fois Gras Poutine with Monforte cheese curds and Carbernet Franc jus

13th Street Gamay Noir 2009 

This was fun comfort food. The portions were not gargantuesque. Just enough to tantalize the palate and make you long for more. Fois gras, oozy cheese curds and frites in a succulent jus.

Chef's Salad

Chef's Salad to balance the decadent poutine: bibb lettuce, house cappocola, cottage gold cheese, confit duck, quail’s egg, niçoise olives, tomato “Raisins” and a fine herb vinaigrette paired with Cattail Creek Serendipity Rosé 2010. Fresh, crisp, buttery and very tasty.

Raw Oysters

Raw Oysters for some fun sides! New Brunswick and P.E.I. joined us for a brief minute paired with Henry of Pelham Cuvée Catherine Rosé Brut.

I must say that the Grill has the most amazing collection of wine glasses. Artful! 

Risotto...oopsy!

We finished with appetizer size entrées! How civilized is that. We felt so well behaved and a little tipsy. So, Carrot ginger risotto, smoked morsels of ham hock ragu. Yummy creamy! Paired with a Stratus White 2008. 

Hhmm, t'was good!

And then to finish, the beast du jour which was bacon wrapped beef tenderloin, onion ring, peal onions, house made ravioli stuffed with duck confis paired with a Stratus Red 2006.

Well behaved but a little tipsy!

Blogging out loud on the 401

It's the eve of Christmas Eve and we're driving to the Laurentians: Jim, Whiskey and I. I never thought I'd surf the net while driving let alone blogging while driving! Truth be told, Jimmy is doing the driving. I am a happy passenger. Lots of holiday traffic and the 401 is busy. I'm not a fan of this highway. Here comes an ambulance.

We drove through a bit of a squall around Port Hope - Cobourg. Not much snow anywhere. I don't know why we refer to a snow less Christmas as a green Christmas. Things look rather brown to me. Water levels are extremely high.

CBC is on. I've travelled this route often and I know most of the frequencies by heart from 99.1 to 98.7 to 107.5. The wine guy is on and he's covering a question about Prince Edward County wines. Hhmm, not a fan of County wines, although I want to be. He's talking about mouth drying tanning.

Napanee. Deseronto.

Stompin' Tom is on! Merry Christmas everybody and Happy New Year all year through. Living Out Loud. Good show.

Go south Canada geese, go south! I worry about these birds. While I was having my morning coffee on Wednesday, hundreds of them flew over the house, their racket so loud I had to step outside to watch them fly by.

Kingston: home of Canada's first prime minister! Cataraqui River. Limestone. Snow on the ground here.

Gananoque. Ah, the Thousand Islands. I would live here. A dusting of snow covers the evergreens.

Brockville. I see a boat on the river.

Grenville, Québec. Almost there! Signing off! The sunset was picture perfect with lots of snow on ground and trees.

Joyeux Noël!

And all the pretty trees were glistening

Can you see the water drops?

 Went for a hike on the Oakridges Trail in the Township of King just South of Schomberg with my friend Anne. The night rain covered the fields and countryside with ice making everything shimmery and silver in the morning sunlight. Truly, it was a sight to behold.

It all began to melt as the sun rose higher in the sky. The melting ice rained down on us as we trekked from one concession to the next crossing icy little wooden passerelles and up and down slippery stiles (new word I learned today!).

Crossing an icy passerelle

My first stile!

A fence in the sky

Lunch and tea was good at Sheena's Kitchen.

One day you'll have a donkey Anne!

Heaven! I'm in heaven...

That's what I was humming and singing it as I rode along the country roads on my scooter. I tied my GPS onto the bike with a shoestring. Now, now...don't pooh pooh my technique. It was tied with knots to make a sailor proud. The route would take me to my destination via the back roads. No highways. Uxbridge. Port Perry. Nestleton Station. Blackstock. Bethany. Cavan-Monaghan. Millbrook. Bailieboro. Campbellcroft. Precious Corners. I must admit that this last one put a smile on my face when I rode through. The area was settled by a Joseph Precious in the 1800s. Unless one knew this, one would think it quite "precious". Riding with the GPS is great fun. Never before travelled roads. The narrower the path, the more magical the moment. Rolling hills. Ridges. Winding roads. Cow paths connecting one concession to another. Trees so thick and lush shelter the road like a covered bridge.
My destination, an old country inn and spa -- an annual pilgrimage to the hills of Haldimand County shared with my childhood friend Jennifer. A good time is always had. We gab, eat, lounge, knit and spa.

San Francisco Shoeshine!

There is nothing worse then a long layover! After grabbing a bite to eat, doing all the shops (all four of them), sipping on a mediocre coffee while people watching, what else could be done to while the time away? Across the way to the left, the sign above the door read Goodfellow. Didn't mean anything whatsoever. Sparse content. Attendant standing outside leaning against the wall. Not busy. Masculine sort of feel to it this Goodfellow. Throw away the empty coffee cup and get a glimpse of a chair in the air. Oh! It's a shoeshine stand! What an idea! My Blundstones could surely use a pick me up. Three chairs in the air. I climb into one and wait for my turn. Business man getting a shoeshine. And then a sexagenarian Swiss wearing burgundy penniless penny loafers is next. I roll up my pants in anticipation at the ready for my first shoeshine ever!