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photo courtesy of CellerTracker
In a bottle. Le Paradou , is a French red wine, a Cotes du Luberon, that was named for a 400 year old mas, farmhouse in Provence. It is a custom blend of Syrah and Grenache from vines near Apt, in Provence. So, if you close your eyes, take a sip, and savor the flavor, you can be transported... to the lavender fields
Fruity and spicy, with a deep, dark, plummy color, this one is a bargain at $10.99.
Just a friendly reminder....
The additional 10 % off Sale in my Flea Market ends January 31st. 4 days and counting....
Contact me at mymelange@yahoo.com if you have questions or wish to purchase.
Merci...
(this is a sticky. please scroll down for my most recent post)
Kimberly Ann over at Nostalgic Homemaking, has tagged me for a meme. I have to list 7 random or weird things about myself. Only 7 huh? I did something similar here, but Lord knows there are so many more weird things about me.....we have just scratched the surface....so here goes.
1. I snore. Loudly. Nuff said on that one. So lady like, I know.
2. I swam with dolphins
3. My Mom used to give me home perms when I was younger. I have pin straight hair, and of course always wanted wavy hair, so my Mom, who thought she was helping, gave me *Toni* perms. Let's just say..they never turned out like I wanted. In fact, I had little orphan Annie's
4. I have a hat head. And I look good in hats (so I have been told). So, I wear hats. Not huge glamorous ones
5. I saw a UFO
6. I have this strange thing that I do, with commercials or animated movies. I try to guess the voices of the characters. I am pretty good at it. I always wish there was a TV game show for this. I think I would clean up and be able to buy that villa in Italy.
7. I have 2 ever so slightly deformed nails on the ring and middle fingers of my left hand. When I was in the 2nd grade, I accidentally got my fingers slammed in the metal door jam, of a huge wooden door and my fingers were crushed. We thought I might lose the tips of my fingers, or the feeling in them, but luckily all that happened was that I have weird looking nails on the 2 fingers and some visible marks where the stitches were.
Typically, I am supposed to tag 7 other bloggers, but I don't want to pressure anyone...so if you are reading this...and you have a blog...well then..consider yourself tagged! Participate if you want, but please comment here and let me know you are playing. I would love to get to know you better.
One of the things that makes Venice so unique, other than that it is a city built on water is the lack of car noise. No roads, no cars, no horns, no screeching tires. Just the clip-clop of heels and toes against the old cobblestones. Venice is a city to explore on foot. To meander the mazes of calle. And to get lost in the alleys. Yes, many a calle is mistakenly navigated, only to wind up at an impasse. No bridge to cross, no corner to turn. Only the possibility of retracing your steps, searching for another option, and...getting stuck yet again. Or taking a dunk in the water.
And since Venice is made up of 117 little islands, those ubiquitous little footbridges are a means of connecting the dots and allowing you to get around on foot, crossing the more than 150 canals, without relying on public canal transportation.
Venice has more than 400 bridges. Some, which are famous, like the Accademia and the Rialto bridges on the Grand Canal.
And while beautiful and well traveled, I prefer finding the small, unusual, unknown, tiny foot bridges that don't appear on any map. Some have iron railings, others do not. Many offer views of Venetian laundry hanging against chipped ocher hued palazzos.
On others, you can stand, gaze down and watch two lovebirds glide underneath in their gondola, looking as smitten as if it were a real tunnel of love
It is the very process of trying to get somewhere by way of map, and giving up, no longer caring about the map or the destination, but only the journey, that lets you discover and fall in love with Venice. The real Venice. You suddenly abandon your travel *to-do*list, in favor of the unknown.
It becomes fun to explore, to see where the calle and bridges will carry you. Although, I must admit that *fun* was not the four-letter *F*-word I was uttering on my first trip to Venice as I traversed many of said footbridges on my way from the San Marco Square to our B&B on the Campo San Maurizio, with heavy luggage in tow. No, that was a very different *F*-word entirely. Funny, those map makers always fail to point out how many bridges and how many steps these bridges have, on the map. It felt like a thousand that day. Especially after an entire day of travel. That experience alone motivated me to become a Carry-on Traveler!
It didn't change my mind about Venice, though. I don't think anything ever could.
Where have you gotten lost? What did you find? What kind of traveler are you? Do you stick to the plan, or do you throw caution to the wind and see where life takes you?
Photo courtesy of Yahoo
Such a talent, you were special. Taken way too young, a mere 28. Gone from this earth too soon. So much to offer, you were just getting started. I am sure your best was yet to come, but how fortunate we are to have had the chance to witness your obvious gift, your craft. It was your calling. You will be dearly missed and fondly remembered. Your spirit will live on in your movies. And we will celebrate your life by watching them.
Verse from the Lyrics of "Only the Good Die Young", Billy Joel:
They say there's a heaven for those who will wait,
Some say it's better but I say it ain't
I'd rather laugh with the sinners, than cry with the saints
the sinner's are much more fun...
You know only the good die young.
If I look up, almost anywhere in Paris. I see beauty all around me. It may only be calling to me. Whispering in my ear. Taunting me. "Psst, look over here. " "Hey, look up here, on your right." I get dizzy dancing round an round in circles, admiring all the lovely scenes.
I love everything about this picture. The large peach-hued stone blocks, the ornate stone statuary with the odd face, the cobalt blue enameled street sign, the contrast of the scrolled iron balustrade. And the shutters. I love the shutters. Closing out the world below, only inviting me in for a peak when someone is ready. A perfect Paris shot. It spoke to me. The only thing missing is ze sexzee Frenchman, looking down at me on the rue, winking and beckoning me to come up to share a bottle of his favorite vin rouge and a gourmet French meal he prepared himself. Or maybe , it would be an adorable older French woman, inviting me in for cafe au lait and to show me her lovely home, decorated with the finest French antiques.
Well, a girl can dream, can't she?
Well, as you can see, I have my party dress, dancing shoes and pearls all laid out and ready to go. I am just waiting for you to arrive.
We have a chandelier
And for me...so many lovely party gifts. My skin will look like the fountain of youth and I will smell heavenly thanks to all of you! Angie even thought about Madison, she will enjoy her French bone.. Please forgive her, she will go * belly up* to greet each of you at the door for a tummy rub when you come in. Yeah, a real ferocious watch dog.
So, now for the big reveal. According the the Random Number Picker, the winner of the party gift is.... Comment #3.
Anne in Oxfordshire. Congratulations Anne! Your party gift will be on it's way. I hope you like to read!!
And a big Thank You, Merci, Grazie, to all of you who made my first blogiversary a very memorable one indeed!
All of this party talk and recipe sharing has made me very hungry...and in the mood for... a party. So, if you'll excuse me, it is time for me to slip into my best party dress. I have guests arriving soon...
That's right. My Melange is one year old today! Can you believe it? It is true what they say...time flies when you are having fun!!!
It has been an incredible year. Thank you, dear readers. I couldn't have done it without you. Thank you for taking the journey with me. For reading, for writing, for inspiring me, for making me feel like I fit in. I look forward to another year of my Frenchie-Italiano blog, with a touch of antiques, wine and fun..and friends, new and old!!
And speaking of fun....it would be so unlike me to let a milestone pass without a celebration!
So, in honor of my first blogiversary, I would like to throw a little soiree. This is what we will do, I would like each of you to post a comment on this post and tell me what French or Italian inspired item you would bring to my party to make it a success! It can be anything, but think French or Italian. Food, wine, a cocktail, a hostess gift, a musical selection, flowers etc. etc. Whatever you want! Be creative! Just RSVP (post a comment) and let me know what you will be *bringing.* I will randomly pick a name from the comments guest list and that person will get a little party gift from moi. You have until midnight on Friday to post a comment. And to be honest, I can think of no better time or reason for a party. Right in the middle of dreary ole winter.
I can't wait to see you what guys come up with!! Good luck!
Photo: Vintage postcard on a tarnished ornate silver tray
UPDATE: I almost forgot the best part. Just as a Thank You to all my readers I will be offering 10% off any item in my Flea Market Shoppe through the end of the Month. Check back as I will be adding some new items over the next two weeks. Merci!
I love Williams-Sonoma. Seriously, I just love them. For their wonderful cookware, amazing assortment of the best and most unusual utensils, gourmet foods, cookbooks
Another reason I love them... free recipes. Yep, on display are recipes, on pretty green cards complete with pictures, located strategically throughout the store, for the taking. For free. Zippo. No charge. What could be better than that? OK, maybe a Personal Chef, but let's not be too greedy here. I grabbed the Provencal Strata card on my last shopping visit and just got around to making it. I thought I would share....
Provencal Strata
10 oz frozen chopped spinach, thawed
1 cup milk
1 cup heavy cream
8 eggs, lightly beaten
1 Tbs Dijon mustard
2 tsp Herbes de Provence
1 tsp sea salt
1/4 tsp freshly ground pepper
7 oz Gruyere cheese, shredded
8 oz county-style style bread, crust removed, cut into 1/2 inch cubes
Drain the spinach, then use your hands to squeeze out as much moisture as possible. Set aside.
Generously butter a 3 quart rectangular baker
In a large bowl, whisk together the milk, cream, eggs, mustard, Herbes de Provence
Preheat oven to 350*F (180*C). Sprinkle the top of the Strata with the remaining 1 oz. of cheese. Bake until the Strata is puffed, golden and cooked through, about 50 minutes. Let stand for 5 minutes, then cut into slices or spoon onto plates and serve immediately. Serves 8 to 10.
Thank you Williams-Sonoma! Thank you! Now, send over that Personal Chef, pronto.
Bon Appetit!
Up to this point I have not talked much about the ubiquitous French macaroon. Don't get me wrong, I love them. Worship them. Can't imagine my life without them. I guess I just hadn't got around to it yet. But then, the other day, my dear blogging friend Melanie, suggested eating macaroons to pull me from my winter blues stint. But, I have no access to them. If I can't eat 'em, at least I can write about 'em. And maybe reminisce at little.
I was so excited to have my first macaroon in France. It was at Laduree, the king of all macaroon makers.
You see, I had always eaten macaroons in New York. My grandmother worked at a bakery, and one of her favorites treats, next to black and white cookies, were coconut macaroons. I was very familiar with these dome shaped, buttery, moist, coco-nutty cookies. So, imagine my surprise when I looked into the Laduree display case, and found these teeny-tiny easter egg colored, light and fluffy sandwich cookies? What? Are you kidding? That is NOT a macaroon!
Now the big decision came. The tasting. What flavors? Some sounded decadent, like raspberry and coffee. But others sounded strange, like basil. A basil cookie.... ewwww. I saw flowery names, violet and rose? Blech. I don't know about you, but eating perfume never sounded appetizing to me. I tell you, there were at least 15 flavors, and alot of them were, well...weird.
Oh, and the decorative boxes, the colors and the designs were to die for.
I stood ogling the case as Parisians swarmed all around me. It was a very intimidating experience. I moved to the back of the room and watched until I felt comfortable with the macaroon ordering process.
Oh, the fun I had that day. I ordered a box to go. I took a ride on the wild side. I sampled lemon, lime, raspberry, coffee, pistachio, violet, rose, salted butter caramel and mint. Yep, the violet AND the rose!! And to my surprise, I loved French Macaroons. All of them. Even the weird ones. So light, crispy, fluffy, flavorful. Oh la la!
On my last trip, I went back to Laduree, but I also decided I would also seek out some other Gourmet Shops in Paris
I headed for Pierre Herme. I had heard wonderful things about his desserts and his macaroons.
Look at all of his delicious flavors. Hmm, looks like they may have more filling inside.
And check out this giant macaroon. Oh my, I had to hold myself back from jumping over the case to grab this beauty.
On a mission, I strolled on over to Gerard Mulot, another big name in macaroons. I round the corner, only to find this.
Closed today. Locked up tight as a drum. On a Wednesday? Ah, C'est la Vie! There will always be next time.
My macaroon tasting would not be complete without a visit to Lenotre. These were also wonderful.
Looking back I will tell you, I have never met a macaroon that I didn't like, Sure, I like some flavors more than others, but I really liked them all. The quality at all the Patisserie's
Where is your favorite place for French macaroons? Which flavor really rocks your world?
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