Eugenia Keegan

A week of family vacation is a true rest.  “Enjoyed” fully it restores not just the body but some core sense of being that only comes with family history. I put enjoyed in quotes because of the chiaroscuro that comes with the pain/pleasure of looking inward.  Family interactions demand family “bare your soul” kinds of evolution and inevitably there is some catharsis.  For me it is one of those things that I love and hate.  I always prosper from the experience, but it painfully peals away another leaf of insulation.

I had one final weekend before the last week of work and then home.  With no prior obligations to burden my thinking I pulled out the map to find some new territory.  I thought that I had read that Mirepoix was the capital of copper pots and with fantasies of one day having a kitchen of my own in France I headed out on Saturday morning with a destination.

As I was driving along my designated route I saw a sign for Limoux.  I had wanted to see that town as well; home of Blanquette de Limoux one of the world’s most delightful quaffs…and at full throttle, an up on two wheels left turn had me on a detour.

The town was incredibly vibrant.  I arrived around 11:00 on a picture perfect Saturday morning in the springtime.  Puffy clouds, razor sharp sunshine, a light breeze bordering on warm…you get the idea.  There was a market in the middle of town which came as no surprise but the streets seemed to be teaming with people.  Every weekend in May and June includes some kind of fête or celebration, often to wine, and people seem to truly enjoy the excuse to be out and about…and chatting!

After a short walk about town I was back on the road returning to my original destination, Mirepoix.  Coming out of Limoux I picked up the D620 and found myself driving through yet another spectacular valley in France.  I thought often about stopping to photograph the area but the spectacular nature of the hillsides would have been lost with my technology and ability.  What interests me is how what appear to be remote valleys have obvious “tree farms” up and down the hillsides.  If this is what it appears to be, managed forests inside natural habitats my compliments to the French.  There were no raped patches in among the wooded areas.  I can’t say whether or not it works economically, but it sure works ecologically.  A tear drop drive.

From the valley I hit farm land that was wide and open.  Agriculture shifted from tree farms to animal farms as this area allowed for fields of open grazing.  The landscape was incredibly picturesque.

Entering the town of Peyrefittes-du-Razès

First Town of the Valley

Moo

Food for Moo

Maison for Moo

Another Moo Another Town

Mirepoix is a bit of a surprise for someone that does not realize what “medieval city” means in France.  Even I, at 5’ 2” would be banging my head on ceilings and overhangs in this town.  It was an amazing site to see as the reality of time and change (especially marked by size) are visually in front of one.  Our ability to feed ourselves and prosper physically is abundantly (all puns intended) clear.

Food in an American tourist town is to be avoided at all costs.  The opposite is often true in France (and other old world cities as well).  I ended up in a lovely spot but with an odd premise.  The restaurant had a serious patisserie and then this add on lunch place. The menu was somewhat eclectic with only nominal hommage to the usual entrecôte et frites.  I ended up with a pasta with tandoori chicken and it was one of the best meals I have had in ages.  Delicate pâte, sweet chicken, lightly coated in a cream sauce exuding spices of turmeric, coriander, cumin, ginger, and Garam Masala.  Weird…medieval town, exotic food.   Yum!

Mirepoix Cathedral

The Scene from Lunch

Medieval Homes

New Commerce, Old Venue

From Mirepoix (oh, not sure about the pots but I saw no evidence of them!) I headed to Foix.  I missed the turn completely as the town of Foix was not along this new and improved road. My error took me through a long tunnel as I overshot the town.  Really amazing the way the Europeans tunnel through rock. Why does it seem different?  I flipped my way back along the side/town roads that twisted and turned, but mostly followed the tunnel.  I wanted to stay in Foix that night so made that the next objective.  During my round about method of returning to the city I noticed a small lake just north of town.   There I found a delightful hotel with an overlook to the lake, a perfect spot for the night.

The town of Foix turned out to be charming.  The sun does not set until late and there is time each evening for a long “sunset”.  I found mine in town and then lakeside.

"Street Sign" for Local School, Foix

Foix, Cared for by Their Castle

Sunset on My Lake

Final Sunset Swim with the Ducks

Family vacations were not a part of my childhood and in fact, vacations were not much a part of my early life.  I feel a sadness about this and accordingly, they are now an annual fixture in planning.  And let me be clear,  I am making up for lost vacations now….and have no plans to stop.

Last spring when I made my pilgrimage to France, it included a short week in Italy with my brother, his Italian wife Cinzia, and their daughter, now nine, Giulia.  When I emailed Paul that I would be returning to France in spring, but sadly as this was now solely business I would not have the time to pop over to Italy, he took matters squarely in hand and volunteered his family to come to France.  We quickly settled on Lanquedoc and he proceeded to find for us what turned out to be a simply fabulous gîte.  If you are heading in that direction check out Domaine de Curé just outside of Carcassone.

Our hosts were Jean-Noël (American/Japanese born in Geneva) and his wife Agathe, who is French.  They found each other in Japan and after very successful careers decided to exchange the fashion and fame of Tokyo for a bucolic setting in the French countryside.  There are three units and with everyone respecting others’ privacy it was a delightful week with a blend of many social encounters.  We of course were the most rambunctious party (rowdy Americans, vocal Italians and a hot wired nine year old) as our neighbors were German (one couple in their late 20’s, early 30’s, and the other in their 50’s) with no kids.  One couple was returning for their second year and another for their 3^rd year.

Our week included a trip on the Canal Midi, the cité of Minerve, the castle at Lastours, lots of swimming, eating, and just being.  Giulia ran a series of snail races and repeatedly beat me at hangman. When we were not engaged in sporting events or intellectual sparing,  we watched Disney movies in multiple languages, and giggled a lot.  (Truly, the chipmunks in Italian are a riot!).

I arrived at 6:10, they arrived at 6:18, picture taken at 6:30!

After 10 1/2 Hours in the Car.....a Just Reward!

Locks Closing, Canal Midi

A French Fieldtrip: Biking Along the Canal Midi

Leaving Carcassonne

Brother Paul Relaxing....Playing his Daughter's Nintendo

Looking Out

Kids at Play

Managing the Snail Races

I noticed after publishing photos that I do not have any of Cinzia.  Giulia had a new super camera and was the official family photographer and only on occasion did I remember to grab my camera.  I will try to rectify this.  It would take only a flash to see that Giulia’s quiet beauty comes from her mother.  Her strong will and determination???

The appellation St. Chinian was established in 1982.  This is old relative to the history of AOCs in the Languedoc.  There are 20 villages that make up the appellation which sits at the foot of the Massif Central.  Although it is one appellation the truth is that there are as many hills and valleys and mesoclimates as there villages.  Some of the vineyard sites here are spectacular with gentle SE facing slopes, protection from the howling winds, and soils of a rocky clay mix.  Only a full analysis of the twenty villages would do this area justice.

The River l'Orb

The River As Influence

One of Twenty

AOC St. Chinian

Beautiful Sites

Vast Valleys

Participating Sunlight

Another of the Villages

Yet Another Village

Our Saturday luncheon took place in the courtyard in front of l’eglise Saint-Jacques.   I am not absolutely clear on the history of this small church.  I can tell you that it is quite beautiful.  There are references to some kind of holy site here as early as 900 AD.  Clearly some parts of this building were built/renovated in the 11^th and 12^th centuries.  I am seeing some sources that are linking this church to St. Jacques who seems to have roamed a great deal of the French/Spanish countryside and now has a long route named after him (in France called chemin de St-Jacques).  David and I have seen many people walking/biking this route.  Some of it is quite lovely and rural, other parts run “right through town”.  Whether or not the famous St. Jacques passed through this exact location I cannot be sure.  Mass is held weekly on Tuesday evenings.

Coquille St. Jacques!?

A Quiet Corner

Blue Light

Church Statue Overlooking City Below

The Languedoc is one of the oldest settled areas of France.  The Greeks were early traders (7^th century BC) bringing the original grape vines to the area. A conflict between Celtic tribes (who had been migrating over time) and the local inhabitants of Marseille prompted a call to the Romans to settle the dispute.   They arrived around 100 BC and ruled for 500 years (careful what you ask for!!??).  Unlike the Greeks who were traders, the Romans moved to the area as colonists and finally residents.  The period of Roman oversight was one of prosperity and peace.  The agriculture of the region thrived and wine estates were wide spread, often extensive and wealthy households.   By early 400 AD the Visigoths started their invasive sweep southward after noting that the Romans were losing a hold on their vast territories. Once the administration of commerce broke down with the scattered fiefdoms and territories so went the prosperity.  The once wealthy wine industry disintegrated as chaos became the norm.

The early 20^th century witnessed a short burst of prosperity return to the Languedoc.  The phylloxera louse was “gifted” by well meaning botanists who sent grape “parts” to their colleagues in France.  Up to 40% of the French vineyards failed over a 15 year period of time.  Once the cause was discovered, and after other proposed solutions were tried, French scion wood was grafted onto resistant American rootstock.  (This is not quite that simple but here is not the place for a full length dissertation on phylloxera…,besides, it has no doubt been done!).  Because the pestilence started in the Languedoc they were the first to replant and had a head start on other grape growing regions of France.  Once Bordeaux, Burgundy, Champagne, etc. were replanted and thriving the attention of the wine world moved away from the Languedoc.

Neither economic standard has yet to be achieved again, although from what I see now I think that the Languedoc and the Roussillon will be the wine story of the 21^st century. The sunny weather and proximately to the seas (both Atlantic and Mediterranean) allow for long leisurely ripening.  The harvest here is just finishing up. Mornings are cool and crisp.  The sun warms the afternoons to a lovely 23 degrees.  Add to this unspoiled beauty, diversity of food and wine and a variety of locations to fulfill individual likes and dislikes.

Sun and food are always on my mind, but a primary point of my research continues to be the search for that perfect piece of  ground that has nurtured old vines for decades and sparingly offers bunches of grenache and possibly carignan fit for loving vinification and bottling.  As my experience and knowledge grow I continue to work on the current OVG project and am now working on finding a location in the Languedoc for winemaking 2011.  The viticultural area referred to as the Languedoc is very large and this search will take some time (quelle damage!). I am taking the sub-regions one at a time.

Thanks Kobrand for Your Maps!