L'Auberge de Sedona

L'Auberge de Sedona

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French Flea Markets

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Every town has its own bakery! GOD BLESS!

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We left the Chateau de Varenne reluctantly. I seriously love this place and the owners who run in. We stopped in the centre ville for espressos, croissant and a handful of other pastries that we had picked up in the village bakery. For the French, baking and pastries are usually two different disciplines. For those keeping track, I am expanding equally and all over. My clothes no longer fit and now I just roll in a sheet and pretend I am a Roman. Everyday has become a toga party!

While eating croissant there was a smell lingering in the air from the market of spit roasted chicken and other meats. Damn that’s intoxicating! A guy at the

village produce market wheeled up his rotisserie and is spit roasting everything over potatoes. I am still drooling thinking of the scent burned into my memory.

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We drove to a little flea market just outside Avignon watched over by a beautiful castle. The flea market was incredible! Lisa and I wanted to buy every little piece of French junk and haul it home. Plates, silverware, kitchen towel holders, medieval bondage gear… you name it. Something for everyone. French flea markets are surreal. The food at French flea markets is surreal.

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We listened to excellent Gypsy guitar music while heating dozens of oysters, white anchovies and shrimp with a bottle of Picpoul. The beautiful sun shone down on us and the gods smiled. I think I just figured out my retirement plan.

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I bought a few Tiffany silver spoons for combat duty at l’Auberge de Sedona, a cookbook written by various French grandmothers and some cool espresso

spoons. Satiated we hopped back in the overloaded Peugeot and continued onward forward to Avignon, the home of the 13th century popes.

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Avignon is a magical place. Often referred to as the “City of Popes” because of the presence of popes and antipopes from 1309 to 1423 during the Catholic schism, it is currently the largest city and capital of the département of Vaucluse. This is one of the few French cities to have preserved its ramparts, its historic centre, the palace of the popes, Rocher des Doms, and the bridge of Avignon. It was classified a World Heritage Site by UNESCO.

We walked around Avignon and indulged ourselves fully in the vibrant tourist trade. Lisa, Beaumont and Kathy went for a ride on a Merry-go-round. Beaumont had such a huge smile on his little face spinning around and around in the bright colors and lights. Afterwards he wanted to ride more and more and more! We would put him down and back he would run.

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We stopped at a bookstore where I dropped an arm and leg on the latest French cookbooks. Lisa bought some beautiful tablecloths, napkins and a gorgeous watercolor of Avignon. It is easy to spend in France. Themes that will reoccur demain et demain.

We finally stopped for gallons of water, ice cream, chocolate cake and café. The French pour such small glasses of water it is pitiful. Being dehydrated for several days requires me to fill up like a camel when I can. The French consider drinking water only for invalids and small children. The waiter must have been impressed with the quantity of water little Beau was consuming as we guzzled down the carafes.

On the way home we stopped at the equivalent of a Safeway and bought truffle sauce, a 10 Euro whole lobe of Foie Gras, pigeons, duck fat, beautiful white asparagus, ratte potatoes, Jambon de Bayonne and other delicacies. Walter, ever the angel even bought an espresso machine because I lamented about not having one at the rental. Hangover mornings require serious coffee!

It felt amazing to be in the kitchen cooking again. I prepared a simple dinner of sautéed white asparagus with a poached egg in an asparagus hollandaise. Simple flavors, simple textures. The main course was Savoy cabbage with pancetta topped with a slab of foie gras and pigeon breast in a truffle sauce.

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Lisa made a huge green salad followed by too many great and strong cheeses.

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We drank a baby 1999 Volnay from a small producer that really doesn’t even count in the grand scheme of Burgundy producers yet this 1999 Volnay was

singing and super youthful. There is something, a quality you cannot reproduce when it comes to experiences. To be drinking a great wine that has never moved is mind altering. Wines, especially Burgundies, are very delicate and fragile creatures. The vibration of the cargo ship, trucks and people carrying alter it’s DNA changing it forever. The 1999 Volnay absolutely sang with the raw milk Epoisses, the best ever of the trip!

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Viva la France! I am in stinky cheese Heaven… bon soir

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