And almost a year later…my second post. Blogging and journal keeping are not things I do. I’ll just be proud that I remembered what hosting site this was on. However, I’ve been recently inspired by a certain Ms. Kristin Espinasse to get back on the blog wagon. So, here we go.
The long and short of it is that I have been in Provence in the small wine village of Sainte Cécile Les Vignes for the past two weeks during the harvest. I’ve been working at a vineyard called Domaine Rouge-Bleu owned and operated by Jean-Marc Espinasse. They produce lovely côte de rhones: Dentelle, Mistral, and Lunatique (my favorite being the latter).
Jean-Marc and his lovely wife, Kristin, have taken such good care of us each and everyday. They are encouraging and feed us like kings and queens. Their passion for their life’s work is infectious (hence this blog). I can’t say enough about the others in the harvest team. I love traveling because at any given moment you stand in a special instance that will never be recreated with each person going along their way and crossing yours.
After a working in the vines, it has become impossible for me to get my hands clean as I would have defined it 2 weeks ago. There is twelve days worth of dirt, hard work, and meditation caked around and under my fingernails. In the lines of my hands, natural or the scrapes and cuts I’ve acquired along the way, dust has settled and made itself at home. And I welcome it.
Saturday night, we had a lovely dinner at the farm house to celebrate the end of the harvest. I enjoyed a moment looking around the table of people from here and there, all bringing their varied experiences, all there for their own reasons, but all with the same gritty hands.
Click here to see more photos from the harvest.
And what’s next? Staying in Paris for now working on the big life plan. Ah you know, just the big life plan… So after 2 weeks of reaping, it’s time to sow. Here’s to hoping for my own beautiful vintage. Tchin, tchin!
Cheeses I’m trying this week:
A Filetta is really creamy and delightful and I even was so bold as to use it in a creamy gratin. Faux pas? Pas de tout.
Tome de Savoie has a strange aftertaste that I’m not enjoying so much. Very musky. Ah, live and learn.
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