Call it a combination of luck and due diligence then, and as a result we hit it right at Sénanque Abbey, we hit it right on the plateau surrounding Sault, we hit it right at various points in between, and from time to time we were wowed by bright, eye-catching sunflower fields.

Stunning views of purple-blue fields of lavender in bloom are far from the only pleasure of Provence, but such images have become so engrained in the traveler’s imagination of the perfect Provence vacation that the most common question I get from those planning to visit the region is “When is the lavender in bloom?”

When is lavender in bloom, and where?

Broadly speaking, Provence’s “blue gold” blooms from early June to mid-August, even beyond, though the edges of that 10-week window can be iffy. So let’s say mid-June to late-July to be sure.

That doesn’t mean you’ll find flowering fields everywhere during that period. Lavender—both “true” lavender and the hybrid lavandin—blooms at different times, in different locations, at different altitudes. It stays in color for a month or more before being harvested, again at different times, locations, altitudes. So don’t come expecting to find all of the fields in full color throughout the summer.

Lavender fields typically begin to flower east of the Rhone River around the second week in June in the lower altitudes in the department of Drôme (particularly in its southern portion known as Drôme Provençale) and in the northern portion of the department of Vaucluse, as well as in Vaucluse’s southern portion in and around the Luberon (e.g. Gordes, Sénanque).

One morning last year, on a 7th of June, while biking along the northern side of the Luberon, after passing several brown-grey fields, I sensed a haze of the palest of purples hanging like fog over long rows of planted mounds—or it was a mirage?

Depending on the type of plant, the weather and the altitude, the flowering begins a week or two or three later on the slopes and especially plateaus further from the Rhone River in Drome, Vaucluse (e.g. Sault) and Alpes du Haute Provence (e.g. Valensole), as well as in bordering departments.

While harvesting of the lower fields may begin as early as July 1, harvesting at the higher altitudes won’t be underway until the second half of the month, possibly not until the end of July or even well into August.

If your sense of the geography of the above-mentioned areas is unclear, see this map of approximate blooming and harvest periods.

Within the periods indicated on that map, those lovely lavender fields won’t be everywhere. You may have to go looking for them. But don’t make a detour to distant fields without first asking someone in the know, such as at a local tourist office. Otherwise, you may arrive only to find long mounds of dirt, as though the fields were a graveyard for the sandworms from Dune. Imagine how disheartening it can be to arrive at a field of dreams only to be told, “Oh, you should have been here yesterday, before the harvest. It was beautiful.”

Travelers needing a lavender fix while visiting the Riviera from mid-July into August may try venturing up to the fields north of Grasse.

Several years ago, on a 6th of August, while accompanying a group that had despaired of not seeing blooming lavender fields at the lower altitudes during their stay, I called around to find out if there had been any lavender sightings that week. Armed with an answer, I then led the group on a long detour from our long-planned itinerary to the vast fields on the eastern side of the Valensole Plateau where, bingo, there it was. Though not the bright magenta or electric purple promised in the glossies or the shocking blue or dark violet seen in photowashed travelgrams, it was a sight to behold: a true pale herbal floral lavender dancing in the breeze atop rounded bushes that snaked in long curving rows pointing toward the Alps.

From year to year and zone to zone, blooming and harvest times will vary. Therefore, when asked to help travelers with planning months in advance of a trip, I advise them to think of colorful lavender fields as a treat rather than a destination so as to avoid breaking any hearts (and getting blamed when lavender dreams turn to dirt).

Learning about Lavender and Lavandin

Along with the pleasure to the eyes, shops throughout Provence sell lavender-scented and lavender-based products for the pleasure of the nose and of the skin—soaps, creams, perfumes, fragrances, sachets, etc.—and of the mouth in the case of lavender honey (the real kind from bees working in the lavender fields). For my taste, lavender honey can be too intensely lavender for most uses, but adding a few dabs to a baguette-and-butter breakfast tartine makes for a sweet and soothing start to the day.

You’ll find lavender products wherever you go in the region. Sénanque Abbey, for example, has a large selection in their shop of monastic products. Nearby, in Cabrières-d’Avignon, between L’Isle sur la Sorgue and Gordes, the Lavender Museum / Musée de la Lavande can teach you about the growing, harvesting and distilling of lavender.

This summer, I chose the Vallon des Lavandes Distillery and neighboring fields in the Sault countryside for our picture-perfect lavender education. The drive itself from the small town of Mazan, where we were staying, offered stunning views of Mont Ventoux before we rounded one final hill and the purple fields around Sault opened before us. Sault (pronounced so, not salt, with a short, crisp o) is on the Vaucluse edge of the Albion Plateau, which covers the corner where Drome, Vaucluse and Alpes du Haute Provence meet. The Albion Plateau is one of the major lavender producing areas of Provence and therefore, when in bloom, among its most photogenic.

So (pronounced Sault), after parking at the distillery, we took an easy and delightful hike along an outlined Lavender Trail. The area isn’t heavily trafficked, but be sure to watch for cars when walking on the road portion of the 5k/3mi trail. (If you drive around the plateau, don’t just stop in your tracks to take in a view but pull over to a secure area.) While you shouldn’t walk into the lavender fields out of respect for the plants and their owner’s private property, I know of no visitor who can resist stepping into the fields for a photo, including this one.

During a tour of its 1947 distillery, the staff at the Vallon de Lavande provides an excellent introduction to the planting and growth of lavender and its common hybrid lavandin and especially to the extraction of essential oils. Lavandin represents three-quarters of the harvest at the 45-hectare (111-acre) domain. It produces six times more oil than true lavender and contains far more camphor, while true lavender, we were told, currently sells for about 180€/kg, about eight times more than lavandin. Some 150kg of plant are required to extract 1kg of oil of true lavender. The deflowered plants serve as combustible for the distillation.

Since it can be quite hot in the afternoon in summer, better to hit the Lavender Trail in the morning, followed by a visit to the distillery. Then drive up the hill to the center of Sault for lunch. We enjoyed a nice meal and a wide view over the plateau from the back terrace of O Pichoun. We followed that up with a pleasant little walk-about in Sault and sniffed into several lavender shops before the pretty ride home.

Sault holds a festival to celebrate lavender in the middle of August, when any remaining flowers are usually cut down. Valensole holds its lavender festival in mid-July.

Sault Cyclists and Mont Ventoux

In Sault in summer, serious bikers abound in their tight shorts and click-clacking cycling shoes. That’s because Sault is a stop on or the starting point for three cycling loops for sporty road bikers:

– an athletic loop that follows the gorge of the Nesque River then back along the hills via Méthamis;
– a lavender-tinged loop along and around the Sault portion of the Albion Plateau,
– and a challenging, 24-km / 15-mi climb to the bald summit of Mont Ventoux, followed by a dangerously high-speed decent back toward Sault.

Regarding the ascension of Mont Ventoux, in-shape road cyclists and those on electric bikes might feel that the first 10 miles from Sault are no more than strenuous, but the true test of fitness comes with the final 10-degree assault. Though the climb from Sault is challenging, the other two ascension routes to the top of Ventoux—from Malaucène and from Bédoin—are even more so, which is why Sault makes for a more popular basecamp. The mountains summit has recently been made more cyclist and pedestrian friendly. Be sure to check the weather report before setting out.

Spelt and Goats

Along with sightings of lavender fields, fruit orchards (cherries, almonds, apricots, etc.) and the occasional sunflower field, you may not recognize fields of small spelt (petit épeautre in French), an ancient grain that’s at home in the hills and plateaus of Provence to the east of Ventoux in the departments of Vaucluse and Haute (Upper) Provence. You’ll find petit épeautre listed on menus as an accompaniment to fish and meat dishes in the region. It’s prepared in much the same way as rice. You may also come across some goats as you bike or drive through the region, which is to be expected given the abundance of goat cheese in the local food markets.

Addresses and further information

Lavender distillery: Sylvie and Thierry Barjot’s Vallon des Lavandes, 965 Route du Vallon (Ancienne route d’Aurel), Le Vallon, one mile north of the village of Sault. Open for free visits July and Aug. Mon-Sat. and upon reservation April-June and Sept.-Oct. See schedule here. There’s a small lavender shop on site.

For other lavender addresses in Vaucluse see here.

Restaurant: O Pichoun, Avenue de la Promenade, Sault. Ask to be seated on the back terrace. Reservations recommended in summer and weekends.

Hotel: In Sault, the 3-star Hôtel Le Nesk, popular with cyclists, can also be a stopover for lavender hunters.

Cycling: In preparing your cycling trip, a good resource is the official cycling site of the department of Vaucluse, which provides information on routes, rental shops, bike-friendly accommodations, luggage transportation services, etc.). But don’t hesitate to be a cyclist without borders so as to connect with the neighboring department of Drôme to the north and Alpes de Haute Provence to the east. In Sault, Albion Cycles, which rents and repairs bikes, can advise on local cycling routes once in the area. Cyclists can also follow portions of the extensive lavender routes described here.

© 2022, Gary Lee Kraut

The post Sault, Sénanque and the Successful Search for Lavender in Provence appeared first on France Revisited - Life in Paris, Travel in France.

Kraut’s article “Biarritz: The Surfing Lesson” was a finalist in the Sports and Recreation category. It can be read here.

The NATJA awards competition honors the best of the best in travel writing, photojournalism, social media and other aspects of the travel and tourism industry. Now in its 22nd year, the awards announced in February 2014 were given for work represented in print, electronic and online media from October 2012 through September 2013.

“This year’s entries were an outstanding mix of local and international stories with dynamic and creative elements that provided the visual through words or photography to transport the reader to the destination,” said Helen Hernandez, CEO of NATJA. “The judging has become increasingly difficult every year given the abundance of talent in the travel journalism community.”

NATJA is the second largest travel media association in North America. The association also publishes TravelWorld International Magazine.

Gary Lee Kraut is the author of five guidebooks and hundreds of articles France. He is currently the editor of the premier online travel and culture magazine France Revisited. In 1996 he received FrancePress’s Prix d’Excellence for his guidebook to France. In 2012 he was elected to the board of the France’s Heritage Journalists Association, the first non-French journalist to be so honored. He has lectured extensively in the United States. In January and February 2014 he went on a 16-stop East Coast lecture tour, speaking on subjects as diverse as war touring in France, understanding the meaning of heritage in France, culinary travel, wine touring in Burgundy and Champagne, and travel and travel writing beyond the clichés.

Based on his highly personalized approach to travel as expressed in his award-winning work, Kraut also assists individuals, groups and elite travel agents in creating customized tours and itineraries in Paris and throughout France. He has worked directly with a U.S. senator, a Hollywood actress, a best-selling author, corporate presidents, educational institutions, charitable organizations and many curious travelers from across the U.S. and from a half-dozen other countries.

The post France Revisited Culinary Travel Article Takes Top Honors in Awards Competition appeared first on France Revisited - Life in Paris, Travel in France.

* * *

I’ve come to the town of Nyons (pop. 7000) in the Provence-leaning part of the department of Drome with a small group of other foreign journalists to investigate elements of the local economy relative to food, drink and tourism—Rhone Valley wines, appellation olives and olive oil, lavender and castles—and we’ve made a decidedly non-touristic stop for lunch. We have been invited to eat like sixth graders at the cafeteria of Collège Barjavel, Nyons’s middle school.

School is out this Wednesday afternoon but Chef Jean-Luc Baconnier and Sous-chef Pascale Duhornay have prepared for us and for working staff some lunch fare that is part of a Drome middle school program called “Manger bien, manger bio” (Eat well, eat organic). The program, in effect in the department’s 30 middle schools and available to its 13,000 students, ensures that 25% of the food served in the cafeteria comes from organic agriculture and farming, including from local producers when possible.

Drome, which stretches along and east of the Rhone Valley from just south of Lyon to just north of Avignon, prides itself on being the leading department in France for organic agriculture. More than 13% of its agricultural surface—compared to a national average of less than 3%—is certified as organic (or biodynamic, a sub-category of organic agriculture with stricter rules), representing 856 farms. The department also has 133 preparers and transformers and about 50 specialized organic shops. Within its agriculture, Drome further considers itself a world leader in organic plants used in perfumery, scents and medicines (see information on lavender in Part 3 of this article).

Implemented progressively over the past few years, the “Eat well, eat organic” program’s goal of ensuring that on average 25% of food served in middle school cafeterias for the 2012-2013 school year be certified as organic has now being achieved. The cafeteria at joint middle school/high school complex in Nyons has surpassed that goal with 33%, according to Céline Roupioz, Drome press attachée. The appetizers in front of me are among the result.

Chef Baconnier was filling the appetizer trays at the salad bar that had been placed in the middle of the cafeteria as I examined the options. I looked up at him. He had the apprehensive smile of a man waiting for someone to tell him what I thought of his work.

“It all looks so good,” I said.

“We made special efforts with the presentation because you were coming,” he said.

The “you” referred to the group of journalists that I was a part of but it still made me feel special. And I realized that the presentation did indeed look too good for a hoard of sixth graders thanks to the decoration of parsley sprigs, the black Nyons olives and popcorn and the orderly arrangement of the endive boats.

I hesitated in making my selection.

“Are you looking for something?” he said.

“What’s that?” I asked, pointing to what looked like individual portions of carrot juice.

“A carrot and orange juice smoothie,” he said. “Nothing simpler and the kids actually like it.”

“I imagine so,” I said for no particular reason.

He had a tremendous spoon in his hand which he now used to point out the contents of the ramekins, trays and endive boats: “Pureed beets, leeks, squash, carrots.”

I thanked him and he left for the kitchen.

When I turned back to the appetizer bar a horrible realization took hold of me: I couldn’t remember anything that I had eaten through the entire year of sixth grade.

No, it was more than that. I had absolutely no memory of sixth grade at all. None! I tried to conjure up the school cafeteria, the names of my teachers, class subjects, gym class activities, my best friends—but nothing came to mind. I tried to remember seventh grade—it, too, a total blank. How, I wondered, did I ever learn anything? Did I learn anything?

I took a little bit of everything from the appetizer bar, everything but the grated carrots which I assumed tasted like grated carrots.

For some reason I was surprised that the carrot and orange juice smoothie tasted like carrots and orange juice. I don’t know what I was expecting, perhaps something that an American sixth grader would “actually like.”

But then it hit me again that I didn’t know what American sixth graders would like because not only did I not know any sixth graders, which might not be such a bad thing, but I couldn’t remember having been one myself. And once again I was seized by the fearful thought that an entire year had been erased from my memory and there was no way or retrieving it. And seventh was gone too.

I stared hard into my organic beets and suddenly remembered the first Earth Day. I must have been in either sixth or seventh grade. It was April. We all got off the bus a half-mile before school and walked the rest of the way, proud to be something good for the planet while a long line of buses, cars and their drivers collectively fumed in the snarled traffic caused by so many kids on the road. I couldn’t remember anything that happened before or after that, but it was a start.

I looked up from my beets and saw that everyone else had already finished their appetizers. The sight of one of the foreign journalists in the group telling one of the cafeteria workers about the food in the cafeteria in her hometown in eastern Europe brought to mind a girl on my bus who once said to me, “Let’s have a debate about why 18-year-olds should be able to vote since they can get sent to Vietnam. I’ll be for, you be against” and then proceeded to berate me for wanting to send young men off to get killed without a vote. I must have been 12 and a good listener.

I caught sight of Patricia Bilcocq, la proviseure or principal, whom I hadn’t yet spoken with other than to say hello when we first arrived. I remembered that somewhere in my childhood I’d learned that it’s principal and not principle because the principal is your pal. Apparently I’d learned something! I was feeling better already. I went over to talk to her.

France’s national education system, known as “the mammoth,” employs over one million fonctionnaires and oversees 12.5 million students and apprentices in 65,657 schools, 87% of which are public. Each and every employee of l’Education nationale is in some way a block in the final rampart defending the values of the Republic, as many of them will let you know in one way or another whether you’ve asked or not. The United States, by contrast, has a primarily local and state system where “values” as such are more open to local interpretation (in some cases questioned before the Supreme Court) and where winning sports teams and extracurricular activities are perceived as equally important as the classroom. I am not pleading here for one system over the other but pointing out that in speaking with Madame la proviseure I was aware that she represented the French Republic even while serving the locality.

The monolithic tendencies of the French state are well known; Paris dictates and coddles as it wishes (while occasionally looking over its shoulder at the European Commission), and this is particularly true of the Ministry of Education. Nevertheless, successive moves have been made toward what is called decentralization, i.e. the movement of responsibilities, agencies and cultural works outside of Paris, strengthening the hand of departments (subsections of regions and comparable in some ways to American counties) in matters concerning transportation, social services, education and culture. School cafeterias are now the domain of the department, allowing leeway in purchasing and serving, within national nutritional guidelines.

Among the complexities of who is responsible for what in the French school system, the department (Drome here) oversees the middle school cafeteria while the high school is the domain of the region (Rhone-Alpes here). The middle school of Nyons, Collège Barjavel, however, is one of two in the department that is also part of larger school complex that includes the high school, Lycée Roumanille. High school students nevertheless have more opportunities to leave school campus for a smoke and a bag of chips.

Despite Principal Bilcocq’s role in overseeing both the high school and the middle school, there was no making small talk about the football team or about this year’s production of “Bye Bye Birdie” or whether or not there was a gay-straight student alliance. We talked about the cafeteria.

Between the middle school and the high school, 900 students, faculty and staff eat in the cafeteria every day in a school complex that includes 1200 students ages 10½ to 19. Those not counted among the 900 eat at home or otherwise opt out of eating at the cafeteria. A staff of 8 to 10 departmental employees works in the kitchen.

Beyond the nutritional aspects of the “Eat well, eat organic” program, Proviseure Bilcocq lauded the importance of involving the school in the local agricultural economy, whether for organic or non-organic products, since many of the school’s children come from families working in that economy.

Nyons is in the southern portion of Drome, an area referred to as “Drome Provencale” beause it identifies in terms of weather and landscape with Provence which is generally considered as beginning in the department of Vaucluse, several miles south of here. The area within 10 miles of Nyons, Pays de Nyons, is especially known for its appellation olives and olive oil and Rhone Valley wines while the broader area of Drome Provencale is also rich in lavender, truffles, honey and fruit trees (more on the surrounding area in Part 3). Though much of that is not as yet certified organic, the local economy depends heavily on agriculture.

Implementation of the “Eat well, eat organic” program involved approaching the question of cafeteria food and nutritional education at several levels. A major dual element is the purchasing price on the one hand so as to presents meals at an acceptable cost on the other. Families now pay 3.50€ (about $4.55) per student for those who have been signed up at the start of the year to lunch regularly at the cafeteria. For those who lunch here occasionally the cost is 3.86€ (about $5.02) per meal. Efforts are also made to eliminate waste, to properly train kitchen and serving staff, and to inform students and their families about nutrition. Nutritionists giving presentations in classrooms during the first year of middle school, i.e. at about student age 11.

It all sounded quite idyllic, especially on a day with no students around. Aware of that impression, Principal Bilcocq warned against a romanticized vision of Nyons’s schools. She acknowledged that despite its strong points Nyons was also confronted with the array of contemporary problems found throughout the French school system, including drugs and violence, failing students and uninvolved parents.

“We have a diverse community,” she said, citing first- and second-generation immigrants and the children of seasonal workers. “There are even some English, Belgians, Dutch and lately even a few Americans.”

Each day at lunch students have the option for their main course of one meat dish (beef, fowl, pork) and one fish dish along with side dishes that might be considered as vegetarian dishes. For today’s main course the choice was been chicken, julien (ling, a type of cod) and, as side dishes or on their own, spelt (a type of wheat grain) and cabbage and carrots, with or without pork lardons. I took a bit of each and a full portion of the organic chicken.

The grain and veggies were tasty enough. The lightly breaded baked ling was a bit chewy but still healthily prepared. And the chicken was truly and surprisingly tasty, better than one would find, say, in a decent café in Paris.

Later, when I went into the kitchen to compliment the chef, he said that the chicken served today was indeed one of the successes of the organic purchase policy. He regretted, however, that our visit didn’t coincide with the arrival of a wider selection of organic produce, hence the frequent appearance of carrots. When possible, he said, organic flour was used in the bread.

He said that discovering how to use those organic products in a way that the students would eat—after all, the goal is not simply to purchase organic food but to get students to eat it and appreciate its origin—involved a certain amount of trial and error. Early in the program there had been attempts to have some 100% organic meals to compensate for meals served when less organic produce was available, but the children didn’t care for them, so now they mix organic and non-organic dishes in fulfilling the program’s purchasing and nutritional objectives.

We were next offered a cheese course—goat, brie and some Alpine tome. It wasn’t exactly a sixth grade memory, but I don’t believe we had a cheese course at my school in New Jersey.

There followed then a selection of three desserts, fresh fruit or cut fruit, slices of pound cake and arched biscuits called tuiles.

Oddly, as I stood back at the salad bar examining the deserts I had a vision of Snack Pack pudding in my lunch bag. I couldn’t put a grade to it, but apparently I still had some middle school memories tucked away. I’d had a childhood after all, and possibly a pretty favorable one at that since I presumably would have remembered anything traumatic. I wondered if, like Proust with the madeleine, my entire middle school period would flood back to me the next time I were to taste a Snack Pack.

My lunchmates and I now said cheery good-bye to the principal and her staff. It was as though it were graduation day and none of us planned to return until we were rich and famous, or had at least filed our reports and our articles.

Already we must have done something right, because within an hour we were raising a glass to the light while attending a class at Wine University.

© 2012, Gary Lee Kraut

Continue to Part 2 of Drome Provencal: Eat Like a Sixth Grader, Drink Like a Wine Enthusiast.

The post Drome Provencale: Eat Like a Sixth Grader, Drink Like a Wine Enthusiast, Part 1 of 3 appeared first on France Revisited - Life in Paris, Travel in France.

* * *

I was never a very conscientious student but I must have done something right because within an hour of eating like a sixth grader I was sitting in a classroom at Wine University (Université du Vin), 16 miles west of Nyons, swirling, sipping and spitting, in no particular order, a selection of lesser-known wines produced in the department of Drome.

In a modern classroom with the walls of the medieval castle of Suze-la-Rousse, I took part in an excellent lesson on regional diversity with a tasting of Chatillon en Diois (Aligoté), Grignan (Viognier) and Brézème (Syrah/Shiraz). There’re nothing like name-dropping to let people know that you’ve traveled.

Indeed, having stopped two days earlier on the way south in Hermitage country (Hermitage, Tain l’Hermitage, Croz-Hermitage) and tasted, among others, M. Chapoutier’s delightfully complex, promising, white Chante-Alouette Hermitage 2010 (Marsanne, biodynamic), the opportunity to discover lesser-known appellations at Wine University was much appreciated.

See, I’ve done it again, name-dropped, this time with a little more detail. Journalists, writers and bloggers do that all the time, especially with regards to travel and wine. We do that to let readers know not only that we’ve traveled but that we’ve traveled to fine places armed with experience and knowledge and returned with even more. The reader is then left with the disturbing task of deciding whether names have been dropped to impress or provided to convey information. You might therefore be wondering: Does this author actually know anything about wine or is he faking it?

Best not to drop too many names or you’ll take me for a wine maven, a wine snob or that certain kind of wine enthusiast who never ceases to amaze and annoy me. I am referring to the enthusiast who, in a non-professional or non-educational setting, will take hold of an assembly to let us know that we cannot progress any further into the evening until he or she has made thorough analysis of the nectar being served.

I certainly understand the desire to share one’s knowledge and one’s opinions. What’s surprising in the case of the self-appointed and gratuitous wine analyst is his momentary (one hopes) inability to stop chewing his wine long enough to look around the table and realize that at that moment the rest of us are being neither educated nor entertained but simply sitting there like a group of hungry non-believers waiting politely for a faith-based table companion to finish saying grace. We don’t mind, really, we’re just waiting for you to finish expressing your vision of the world so that we can proceed with that humanistic ritual called sharing a meal.

I got to thinking of this while at Wine University because it made me question my own relationship with wine. Having visited large swaths of the wine regions of France, written much about them, interviewed producers, sellers and connoisseurs, attended numerous wine tastings in addition to simply tasting numerous wines, given tours of Champagne and Burgundy and the Loire Valley, given lectures about French wine regions in the U.S., and even conducted incredible wine bar tours in Paris—having practically swum in wine some days, what was my relationship with wine?

Did I belong in Wine University?

Université du Vin is an institution for professionals and enthusiasts and for seriously interested students of all ages to further their education in any number of subjects related to wine and the wine industry over the course of a few hours or many months—all this in a historical setting of a medieval castle-cum-pleasure palace-cum-wine university.

The instructors, to judge by my small sampling that afternoon, were clear, expressive, highly trained and able to address questions without condescension.

I enjoyed my taste of Wine University. It appealed to my curiosity. And for a moment there I felt a tinge of heightened enthusiasm at sitting in an actual lecture-like classroom with several glasses, a notepad and a sink in front of me. I briefly imagined myself staying at Suze-la-Rousse for a week: classes in the morning, a hike or a bike ride on a sunny day, an afternoon in the reference library of 6000 works in case of rain, a long dinner with new-found wine friends, followed by a long-earned sleep in a monastic cell, no, make that a cozy B&B. I’ve had similar moments in other settings I’ve imagined staying put in Italy to learn Italian, in Spain to practice salsa, on someone’s couch to study Spinoza.

But I never will—not with much depth; just a curious little flirt, a brief and memorable affair before moving on. I realized during the class that afternoon that I didn’t have a sustained interest in distinguishing between mineral, floral, fruit or animal or in considering acidity versus tannins or in examining the nuances of yellowish whites and purplish reds.

No, I am not an enthusiast. I am curious. I am a curious traveler, a frequent wine drinker, someone who enjoys meeting wine folk, especially in their vineyards and cellars and homes.

Having finished the Chatillon en Diois and now onto the Grignan, an area whose a chateau I’d visited the previous day (see Part 3 of this article), I was well aware that I’m more enthusiastic about old stones than I am about young wines, but I quite like combining the two when I travel.

On the approach, the hilltop castle of Suze-la-Rousse appears to be the model of a medieval fortification with its high uninviting walls and crenellated tower. But once inside it relaxes its defenses and reveals itself to be a pleasure palace with a 16th-century (Renaissance) courtyard and later transformations including a grand staircase and pastel drawing rooms.

Add the multi-layered study of wine to that and you’ve got an institution where French heritage and the contemporary marketplace for wine play off each other like a light show on the façade of a Gothic cathedral. The current spirit of the place is amusingly evident in the castle’s chapel, once a setting for Holy Communion, recently transformed into a temperature-controlled tasting room.

With or without the wine, the chateau can be visited by appointment.

While the training of young and budding sommeliers and cellar-masters/cavistes with professional or amateur ambitions is at the heart at the university, Universite du Vin also offers classes and courses concerning other important aspects of the wine industry: production techniques, markets, marketing, regulations. Diplomas and degree programs in management and marketing, law, production and scientific measures of quality and of tasting are available in conjunction with other educational institutions. Regarding the wine tasting here, there’s naturally a strong emphasis on French wines but other wines are also present.

Created in 1978, Université du Vin now welcomes about 200 students per year along with another 2000 who come for various training sessions. Classes are also available for enthusiasts and other who may or may not arrive with (or admit to) professional ambitions.

To name but a few classes and courses that are open to those, professional or amateur, with a working knowledge of French: a 4-day initiation to wine tasting; a 1-day class in recognizing and understanding flaws in wine; a 1-day class devoted to the olfactory aspects of wine.; a 1-day class in creating a wine cellar and a wine list for your restaurant; assorted 1- to 3-day classes on getting to know the wines of specific wine regions. This year there was also a 3-day class in English on Rhone Valley wines.

These are serious classes taught by highly trained professions and are not intended as sales pitches for any specific wines or regions, despite the natural presence of many Rhone Valley Wines. You’re more likely to come across enthusiasts rather than budding professionals at a weekend initiation. Wine University also opens its doors to business tourism, e.g. team building or incentive travel in English plus seminar rooms for their more mundane corporate work. For those willing to devote less than a day to educating their palate, there are occasional classes in tasting cheese, olives and olive oil or beer.

Some say that there is no pleasure without knowledge while others feel that knowing that you’ve enjoyed yourself is knowledge enough. I’ll take both as companions as I pursue my own wandering approach to a wine education.

© 2012, Gary Lee Kraut

– Return to Part 1 of Drome Provencale: Eat Like a Sixth Grader, Drink Like a Wine Enthusiast
– Go to Part 3, Drome Provencale: Medieval Towns, Castles, Lavender and Silk

Part 2 endnote: More Rhone Valley name-dropping

Planted more or less from Vienne (just south of Lyon) to Avignon, Cotes du Rhone (including Cotes du Rhone Villages) vineyards extend along both sides of the Rhone River, increasingly to the east as one head’s south, with many appellations along the way.

Concerning the red wines, which predominate, the northern portion of the valley, from Vienne to Valence is known for its expression of Syrah/Shiraz grapes from Vienne to Valence (e.g. Côte Roie, Contrieux, Chateau-Grillet, Saint Joseph, Hermitage, Cornas, Saint Peray). In the southern portion, from Montelimar to Avignon, there’s a dominance of Grenache along with some use of Syrah, Mourvedre and other varieties (e.g. Gigondas, Vacqueyras, Chateauneuf-du-Pape, flaring off to Tavel).

Transforming grapes grown over 60,000 hectares (nearly 148,000 acres) and divided into 6000 winegrowing business, the Rhone Valley produces 334 million bottles per year. More details about this long vertical wine region along the route from Lyon to Avignon can be found here.

The post Drome Provencale: Eat Like a Sixth Grader, Drink Like a Wine Enthusiast, Part 2 of 3 appeared first on France Revisited - Life in Paris, Travel in France.

Some impressions and practical information concerning the area covered in Parts 1 and 2 of “Eat like a sixth grader, drink like a wine enthusiast,” including Nyons, Taulignan and Grignan and featuring olives, lavender, silk and Madame de Sévigné.

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Nyons
After dinner I set out alone from the Hotel Colombet to haphazardly explore the cobbled streets and alleys of the oldest portion of Nyons. I eventually made my way an ancient bridge arching high over the narrow Eygues River. It was dark. The bridge was blocked at my end. In the dark it didn’t appear to go anywhere one would want venture at night. The area felt abandoned, forgotten.

It was just an impression on a cold night but the truth didn’t matter. There’s an attractive mystery that comes from wandering through an old town at night, a hesitation before turning corners and walking under archways, a mix at apprehension and relieve at seeing someone walking towards you in the opposite direction against a backdrop of stones walls and strangely cast shadows. It’s the reason I’d set out alone rather than accept an invitation from the others to visit the town with them once they’d finished the wine. I didn’t want to visit; I wanted to explore.

In daylight the following morning the mystery had evaporated. The shops were opening. The ancient bridge was now interesting for its form rather than its enigma. The shutters and the rooftops of the old town and the vegetation along the hill on the opposite side of the bridge all spoke of Provence.

Nyons is best known for the table olives and olive oil produced in the surrounding area. The olive oil is a smooth and light with a mild taste of spice and a nip of pepper. The unlikely traveler passing through the area from the end of November through December can enjoy the view and buzz of the olive harvest. Visitors in summer will more likely be seeking out lavender fields in bloom when exploring the area of Provence and Haute Provence, including the Nyons region.

The cultivation of lavender has increased substantially since the early 1980s in the provençal areas of southeast France (Drome, Alpes de Haute Provence, Haute-Alpes, Vaucluse), whose land and various altitudes lend themselves to growing three main types of lavender—aspic lavender, “true” lavender and lavandin. Lavandin, the most ordinary of the three, is what grows in the lower-lying areas around Nyons.

Nyons has a distillery for lavender and other aromatic plants, Bleu Provence, one of about 120 such distilleries in France. Visitors can learn about the production and distilling of lavender now and in the past I the distillery’s little museum open. There’s also a selling all things lavender. See Bleu Provence’s website for opening times and entrance fees. www.distillerie-bleu-provence.

For suggestions of itineraries of “Lavender Roads” throughout Provence and the Alps that can by car, motorcycle, even bike see this official tourist board website.

Taulignan
Taulignan is a small town that’s a 20-minute (12-mile) drive from Nyons. It has a population of 1600 of which only 160 within the medieval walls. A quick walk through that medieval portion gave the impression of a gated community that hasn’t yet figured out parking restrictions. I suspect that it’s deserving of a more leisurely stroll, however Taulignan’s Silk Museum was my actual destination.

The history of silk production is one of those many things that I’d hardly think myself curious about, but once inside the museum I found myself absorbed for a good 30 minutes by the history of silk production beginning in the area from the 17th century until the end of the 19th century, with a particular emphasis on 18th- and 19th-century developments in techniques and machinery. There are explanatory panels in French and English. The museum also tells the story of local silk factories that housed and employed orphans and disinherited girls.

Locally produced silk thread was transported to Lyon, formerly the center for the production of silk fabrics and products in France. France no longer produces silk though a tiny remnant of the silk fabric and garment business still exists in Lyon. The agriculture surrounding Taulignan, once marked by up to 13,200 mulberry trees and their silk worms, is now devoted to vines for Cote du Rhone wines and lavender with the occasional honey producer and truffle hunter, as throughout the region.

The Silk Museum (Musée de la Soie) is located just outside the main opening in the medieval ramparts. See the musem’s website for opening times and entrance fees. More information (in French only) about the village itself can be found here.

Grignan
The hilltop castle of Grignan, four miles from Taulignan, can be seen in the distance as you approaches from the plain. Its architecture and interior are less notable than its place in French literary history. This is where Madame de Sévigné, the celebrated figure of 17th-century epistolary literature, would come to visit her daughter Madame de Grignan, with whom she otherwise and frequently corresponded with by letter.

“My heart is at rest when it is next to you” (Mon cœur est en repos quand il est auprès de vous), she wrote upon leaving her daughter after a visit in 1673, before concluding “alas, here we are back in letters” (hélas ! nous revoilà dans les letters.) Reading that letter makes me feel nostalgic for the days not so long ago when people were more interested in voice communication rather than in texting.

Madame de Sévigné’s collected letters reveal this intense mother-daughter relationship as well as life, fashion, literature and politics at the Court of Versailles during the time of Louis XIV. Those letters are likely to be on the curriculum of those students now eating 25% organic food at lunch throughout the department.

The countryside of Grignan, Tricastin and the Popes Enclave, all in this same general area, is leading producer of the hunted black truffle “tuber melanosporum.” Grignan is just five miles north of Europe’s largest truffle market held on Saturdays from mid-November to mid-March in the town of Richerenches (see this article on France Revisited). Truffles are integrated into menus throughout the region at that time of year, in dishes such as the creamy scrambled eggs with truffles (brouillade de truffes) that I had just outside of the old town at one of the finer local restaurants La Table des Delices.

For a photo-reportage about this region in winter see here.

End note for cyclists: We are just north of Mont Ventoux, the largest mountain in the sector, known to cyclists both amateur and professional for challenging gradients up to 10%.

© 2012, Gary Lee Kraut

– Return to Part 1 of Drome Provencale: Eat Like a Sixth Grader, Drink Like a Wine Enthusiast
– Return to Part 2 of Drome Provencale Eat Like a Sixth Grader, Drink Like a Wine Enthusiast

The post Drome Provencale: Medieval Towns, Castles, Olives, Lavender and Silk (Part 3 of 3) appeared first on France Revisited - Life in Paris, Travel in France.

We continue on to Valence. This small city that isn’t quite Provence but even on a mid-winter’s night when the temperature falls below freezing and the café chairs are stacked tall against the wall, there’s no mistaking the affinity of the pastel buildings and gnarly plane trees of its old town square with central squares further south.

Spring and summer travelers are still at home planning sunny vacations as we drive further south to the village of Grignan, whose castle stands cold and silent above the village.

It’s snowing as we venture out onto the terrace of the castle to look out over the dormant lavender fields. If it’s lavender then it must be Provence, n’est ce pas? Indeed, we are in the southern portion of the department called Drôme, a zone known as Drôme Provençale.

Nothing says Provence more than an image of flowering lavender fields in July, certainly not this field of white and green oaks in winter (below). Still, this landscape is a thing of beauty for he who farms and hunts for truffles here, for while the lavender fields await sun and warmth, the soil is still alive enough to give birth to truffles, pungent fungi known as black diamonds or black gold.

From mid-November to mid-March, truffles develop unseen and seemingly haphazardly, and when ripe their odor can be detected by specially trained dogs.

The week’s hunt, whether in the wild or on one’s own plantation, can be sold at the Saturday morning (mostly) wholesale market in Richerenches, five miles south, in what is unmistakably Provence (Vaucluse). This winter’s crop of the prestigious tuber melanosporum, known here as the black truffle of Tricastin, has been selling for $500-550 per pound (800-900€/kg), depending on the week, with a pre-Christmas peak of $730 per pound (1200€/kg). The lesser tuber brumale has been goes for about $245-290 per pound (400-500€/kg). Prices are naturally higher at the retail market held on Sunday mornings in Saint-Paul-Trois-Chateau.

Fifteen miles east of Grignan, the old vines of this Côtes-du-Rhone vineyard take a well-deserved rest, as do the even older olive trees—producing appellation Nyons olives—on the hill in the background.

We go inside for the tasting. No need to wait for warm weather for a taste of Provence in Drome Provencale.

© 2012, Gary Lee Kraut (photos and text)

The post Drome: An Unmistakable If Frigid Air of Provence in Winter appeared first on France Revisited - Life in Paris, Travel in France.