It was the summer of 1993 and time to head back to France. Our trips were usually five weeks long, two weeks traveling around France and three weeks visiting Annie's family in Poitiers.
We had now become very good friends with Jean-Marie and Catherine and this year they very graciously invited us to stay at their place in La Miguoa. So we were very excited and happy as we flew into Marseille and got in our rented bright red Peugeot. We were to head straight to the Domaine to have a glass of rose with Lulu and Lucien and to meet up with Jean Marie who was there working. But first we had to find our way through some detours through Marseille, as the auto route was closed for repairs.
When you first rent a new car, you really don't pay attention to some details, like locking the trunk or doors (in those days, locking trunks and doors weren't automatic). So here we were, driving down some back road in Marseille, happy as all get out as we were just starting our vacation, and totally oblivious to the fact that all our doors were unlocked. Some suitcases were in the trunk and the rest were in the backseat.
I was driving and Annie was in the passenger seat. We came to a stop sign and all of a sudden the right back door opened and I saw a hand reach in and grab a suitcase! With what I must say were very quick reflexes, I reached back and grabbed the same suitcase. It was only then that I saw that our assailant had only one arm! His other one was in a sling, broken or some such thing. Well, we had a bit of tug of war with the suitcase, back and forth we went. Suddenly, he let go and shut the door. "Whew!", I thought momentarily. A second later, he opened Annie's door and started grabbing around her chest area, looking for some kind of neck purse or something. So poor Annie is screaming, I'm yelling and hitting the guy in the arm, when all of a sudden he just leaves!
The car was now stalled (we were still at the stoplight), so I started it up again and, shaking like a leaf, drove on. Soon we were at another stoplight and a guy in a truck drove up beside us. He told us he'd seen the whole thing and to pull over for a second. We got out of the car and talked to the man, who turned out to be our savior. He was on the street that was crossing ours and saw the one armed bandit trying to take our stuff. When the bandit tried to come in the front seat, he suddenly saw another guy, the bandit's buddy, running up to our car. He honked at the guy and drove up to him and it was then that both bandits ran off. The second bandit had both of his arms and would probably have taken everything if the guy in the truck hadn't been there to help us.
By this time, Annie and I were a real mess. I have never needed a drink more in my entire life. We somehow made it to the Domaine and were greeted by Lulu. One look at us and she knew something had gone wrong. But just being with good friends, with a cool glass of Tempier rosé in hand, made all the troubles go away. After all, no harm was done, mostly thanks to our truck driver and the fact that the bandit only had one working appendage.
Travel note...when getting in a new rental car, take a minute and learn how to lock the damn doors!
We were staying here a few days and were invited to the Domaine for another lunch cooked by Lulu and Catherine. But before lunch, Jean-Marie invited me to a tasting in the cellar with Kermit Lynch (their American importer) and a couple of other winemakers. It was interesting just watching how professional wine merchants and winemakers go through many different wines. Kermit brought along some bottles from other domains from various parts of Provence to try. There were long discussions about various qualities of the wines, but I mostly just observed. It’s amazing how professionals can pick out the littlest detail in the wine that I could never figure out. Oh, this wine has a soupcon of peach skin, or this one has just a hint of cherry pits, or whatever.
Kermit Lynch (on the left) during our tasting....
A barrel of their wonderful 'marc', an eau de vie that is simply ambrosia...
When we were finished, Kermit and his pals went on their way and Jean-Marie and I went back up to the house. Annie had been helping Lulu, Catherine and also Florence, Jean-Marie and Catherine’s daughter, who had arrived to join us. We started by giving them a few gifts that we brought from the US. One thing I remember was a coffee cup that we had imprinted with the Domaine Tempier logo. Lucien got a big kick out of that.
Lucien likes his cup...
Discussing wine with Lulu and Lucien...
In the kitchen where the magic happens...
The main course was a beautiful rack of lamb, roasted with lots of garlic. This was served with a dish of tomatoes and eggplant, roasted in the oven. Oh boy, were these ever delicious! Jean-Marie brought up from the cellar all sorts of vintages of Tempier, old and new. I can’t remember all that we had (although some were the newly bottled 1991s), but the one I remember the most was a magnum (double bottle) of the extraordinary 1971 that I mentioned on a previous blog. Being in a magnum, the wine was even more alive then the previous bottles I had a couple of years before. There was still a lot of fruit in the wine, but it had that wonderful earthy-ness that is so characteristic of old Tempiers. Annie and I brought from the US a bottle of wine from a friend of ours, Larry Braren of Braren-Pauli winery, in Petaluma. It was a Zinfandel, a grape not used in France. All the Peyrauds loved this wine, as it was not only very unusual, but very good.
Lulu serves a wonderful eggplant and tomato dish...
Me, Lulu, Florence, Annie, Lucien and Catherine...
Here we're joined by Francois (holding the Braren Pauli wine) and Jerome...
At one point we had an unexpected wine experiment. Lucien accidentally knocked over his glass of Braren-Pauli Zinfandel. There was a bright purple stain on the table cloth. Somehow, Jean-Marie got the idea of comparing wine stains. So he poured a little bit of wine from each remaining bottle right on the tablecloth! I’m not sure Lulu was all that pleased with this, but she let us have our fun. You could see how the new wines made bright purple stains, whereas the old wine, the 1971, left a stain that had a tint of brown.
The amazing apricot tart...
The wine stain experiment...
A serious discussion is going on about wine stains...
By this time Francois and his son, Jerome, had joined us for dessert (an amazing apricot tart) and a game of pétanque. Even Lulu joined in. We spent the rest of the afternoon enjoying tossing our boules and listening to the cigales sing away.
Lulu playing pétanque...
The pétanque players...
Lucien and Lulu...
In Sanary sur Mer, a lovely little fishing village near Domaine Tempier, there is a fantastic market on Wednesdays and Saturdays. One morning, Catherine, Annie and I went there. The market is almost a full kilometer long and consists of fishermens' wives selling their husbands' fresh catch of the day (right on the port!), stall after stall of the freshest produce you can imagine; the reddest tomatoes, the most purple eggplants, the greenest zucchinis. Stalls just selling olives, maybe 20 different varieties! Charcuteries selling the tastiest patés, salamis and hams. Cheese vendors selling cheeses, like Fontagne, Banon (a marvelous cheese wrapped in a grape leaf) and Picodon.
Annie and Catherine at the Sanary market...
So many olives, so little time...
Annie and I bought some beautiful Provençal table cloths and a big mortar and pestle. The mortar is made out of pure marble and is something no Provençal kitchen would ever be without. After 20 years, the tablecloths and mortar and pestle are still in use.
The rest of our stay was very enjoyable, as we were at Jean-Marie and Catherine’s place at La Migoua. They made us great meals and we even were invited to Catherine’s parents’ house up on a hill above the Mediterranean.
One day we were invited to the house of Catherine's mother and father. Catherine's parents knew a good property when they saw one. In 1965, they drove up to the top of a hill, hearing that a farm was being sold by the owner. When they arrived for the first time, Catherine's grandmother, who was with them, took one look around at the views, and said, "Cancabeu!". In Provençal, this means "how beautiful it is". The name stuck, as they bought the property. By 1993, they had planted several pine trees, built some terraces, planted a few olive trees and built a small house and lived there part of the year.
The view from here is stupendous. You have a 360 degree view of the coast and the interior hills. The slope falls steeply away on all sides of the hill so you feel you are floating above everything. The other towns and houses are so far away, and the sea glistens in the distance in small bays on three sides. On a clear day you can see the over 50 miles of French coastline.
The Mistral, the very strong wind that blows from the Alpes through this part of Provence can be very strong (one storm in 1999, Jean-Marie told me, had winds of over 100mph), but on a clear, windless day the place is heaven on earth.
And yet another bottle of Tempier...
We were all gathered there for lunch, Annie, me, Jean-Marie, Catherine, Valerie, Florence, and Catherine's mother and father. The cigales were singing, more rose was being poured, and I felt I had died and gone to heaven. Soon, Catherine brought out a big bowl of Salade Nicoise, a wonderful bowl full of lettuce, tuna, olives, eggs, peppers and much more. With this, Jean-Marie served the 1992 rose and a bottle of 1991 Cuvée Speciale. Both went very well with the salad. A young Tempier can go well with an oily fish, such as tuna or salmon. The plateau de fromage came next and Jean-Marie brought out a 1985 La Tourtine. Tourtine has always been a tougher character then Miguoa. To me, the Tourtine is a bit more masculine and sometimes a little more "funky", what with notes of barnyard and earth. But I love it and it went great with the cheese.
Catherine with her Salade Nicoise...
La famille Peyraud-Mathavet...
Valerie told us that the next day she wanted to show us Marseille, where she was living and going to school. Needless to say, Annie and I were a little trepidatious, but when you fall off the horse you have to get back on, right? We picked her up in town and drove down to the Old Port. The old part of Marseille is quite beautiful, with nice restaurants surrounding the port. On a hill, about 600 feet above the port, is a beautiful old church, Notre Dame de la Garde. This churched is dedicated to the fishermen of Marseille and is where people still come to pray for their safety. Small wooden fishing boats hang from the rafters. We hiked up there for the fantastic view. It was great hanging out with Valerie in Marseille and we were able to get over our fear of the place.
Annie and Valerie...
That evening, we were invited to Jean-Marie's brother, Francois', house for dinner. Francois and his wife, Paule, live in a beautiful old farmhouse in the middle of the La Tourtine vineyard, which is on a much steeper slope then La Miguoa. There are terraces everywhere and you can easily see that there is no machine picking here, all the grapes are harvested by hand.
The La Tourtine vineyards...
We were joined by their son, Jerome, who was a medical student. We had a great meal, with more wonderful bottles of wine. The thing I remember most was the most delicious soup I've ever tasted. It was a soupe au pistou, which is a vegetable soup with a pesto sauce. Oh my!
Francois Peyraud...
Jerome, Paule, Annie and Francois...
So here ends my story of my time with the Peyrauds in the early 1990s. I was to go back one other time, in 1995, by myself (Annie’s mother had passed away and she needed to spend more time with her father). But after that, it was another 14 years until I saw them again. Both of our families had terrible losses, great happiness and huge changes in our lives. But when Amy and I went back to see Jean-Marie and Catherine in October of 2009, it was like no time had passed and we picked up right where we left off. Good friendships are like that, aren’t they?
Jean-Marie, Catherine, Amy and me, May 2012...
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