Emily in France 🇫🇷 Driving Myself Home
Home of my heart.
Barely a moment after arriving in Paris following a whirlwind of summer travel, I took off again, this time for the home of my heart in the heart of the Corbières to attempt – once again – my white whale... my driver's license.
A native New Yorker, I nevertheless succeeded at this particular hurdle at the age of 19: I was granted a New York State license, which, I have quickly learned, means very little in a land of priorités à droite and giratoires. Still, getting my French license has been a long time coming: It will allow me to spend more time visiting small producers of cheese and wine in the French countryside, soaking up the landscapes that make me love this country more and more with every year I spend in it.
Cross your fingers for me on Wednesday morning, friends.
Whether the exam goes well or not, I'm glad to be here, in this town I have loved for over 15 years now, mais toujours en été. The past few years have led me to discover it in spring, when the hills are abloom with mimosa, wild asparagus grow at the roots of olive trees, and cargolade is on the menu. I've seen it in late fall, when the grapes have been picked and the vines have taken on a burnished hue. Now, on the cusp of summer and autumn, I've seen my first harvest, gorged myself on the Muscat grapes my friend picked off her son's vines and saved for me in a silver bowl in the fridge; devoured the last few tiny green figs from a tree in the wild I like to believe I'm the only one who knows.
On Sunday, after one of those wonderfully eternal French lunches that leaves you happily dinnerless, her son told us that the parcel known as Les Herbacés would be picked today, Tuesday.
"So get up there if you want any table grapes."
We did as we were told; we returned with purple-streaked hands, a basket of deep black Alphonse Lavallées, and happy stomach aches.
Maybe next year, I'll be the one driving us up to that very overlook, with views over Vingrau.
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Cheese of the Week
This week's cheese is a fresh sheep's milk creation from Ferme de la Saussette in Salignac (which, given its -ac suffix, should surprise no Terroir Podcast fans is in the Dordogne). This cheese boasts a texture most would more commonly associate with goat milk, but thanks to the higher fat content of ewe's, it's richly creamy with a mild but pleasant herbaceous flavor.
I discovered it in La Ciotat while Camille and I were hard at work getting things ready for TERRE/MER, our ceramics and culinary retreat taking place this November. It was thanks to Marie-Pierre la Fromagère, a local cheese specialist from the Drôme, that I ended up with this pocket cheese in my pocket, and if you join us on the retreat, you'll definitely meet her. (She's a total firecracker and my new goal in life is to become her friend.)
To discover more of my favorite cheeses, be sure to follow me on Instagram @emily_in_france and tune into the Terroir Podcast, where Caroline Conner and I delve into France's cheese, wine, and more one region at a time.
What I'm Eating
I'm not much of a breakfast eater, and I have serious opinions about brunch (most unfavorable) but if you're looking for a good place to grab it in Paris, I can only recommend 5 Pailles highly: Good coffee, great chai, and no imposed formule. More on the blog.
Discover more of my foodie finds via Instagram @emily_in_france.
What I'm Writing
1. Paris by Mouth recently sent out a newsletter featuring our top 50 spots to eat in Paris this fall, and I contributed a bit of reporting including this review of the tasting menu at Shabour.
2. These Rockford firefighters are making excellent small-batch coffee. I got an inside look at how and why for InsideHook.
3. This is the burger Miami's best burger guy makes at home, featuring horseradish, pickled jalapeños, and a "puddle of cheese." For InsideHook.
What I'm Saying
1. If Ernest Hemingway described Paris as a feast, it's no surprise. While as an urban center, it could seem as though Paris' terroir is defined by the surrounding countryside, we're here to show you that's not the whole truth. To delve into underground caverns where button mushrooms grow and explore the now-defunct marketplace that Emile Zola characterized as the city's belly, tune into the Terroir Podcast.
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2. Students of French are certainly not strangers to faux amis – those false cognates that look like one thing and mean another. This week, I'm joined by Zeva Bellel, a career and personal leadership coach based in Paris, to explore the ins and outs of one of the most misleading false friends: profiter. This word is linked not to economics, but rather to the intrinsic – and rapidly evolving – relationship the French have with work and pleasure. Tune in here!
What I'm Reading
1. I love books about toxic friendships between girls, even though I am aware of how pervasive and dangerous this can be as a trope. There was something haunting about Myriam Leroy's Ariane, specifically in the narrative stance, which belies key information about its ending early on. That said, I found the actual ending a bit unfulfilling – perhaps because I had hoped for a bit more growth (or hope) for the narrator.
2. Lauren Collins' assertion that "the best icebreaker is 'What time do you eat dinner?'" is at once so true and terrifying to me, because I'd have to admit that my preferred dinnertime is 5pm. (Mostly so that I can be in bed with a book by 8.) For the sake of socialization, I usually dine at the very-French hour of 8pm (aka book o'clock), but there's something to be said for eating early, as Collins explores in this piece for the New Yorker.
3. This amazing infographic explores what it means, exactly, when a film character drinks milk. (Spoiler alert: Way more than you'd think.)Â The Believer.
A bientôt !