Art I'm Looking At: Found Art--Spider Web and Coyote Bush

Today I spent much of the afternoon looking at birds in the Bodega Bay area. While walking through some brush near the place bird watchers call "Owl Canyon"--mostly coyote bush, yarrow, lupines, and blackberries--I noticed this spider web. The coyote bush is releasing seeds everywhere right now. The web was downwind. Found art. (Click on the photo for a larger view.)

Found Art: Caswell-Massey Fruit Soaps (September 22, 2010)

A box of Caswell-Massey fruit soaps. They look delicious. They smell delicious. Beautiful. Found art.

First rain of the 2010-2011 season (September 19, 2010)

We've had the first appreciable rain of the 2010-2011 rainy season in Santa Rosa today (the official rainy season goes from July 1 to the following June 30 each year). So far, it's been a mere 0.15 inches--not enough to make much difference to the plants in the garden, but perhaps enough to encourage fungus and other problems with the wine grapes.

Testing random berries in the past few days, the ripest are at only 19 Brix, the least ripe still as low as 14 Brix. If rain forces us to pick early, we'll have to add sugar to the crushed grapes, and the result is likely to be thin, rather characterless wine--but it's been a very difficult year weather-wise, and handmade, estate grown wines are, if nothing else, an expression of the weather in the year they were made. If the rain stops quickly, the sun comes out, and we get some decent temperatures in the coming weeks, things may turn out more happily. If rain doesn't force the difficult decision to pick before the grapes are truly ripe, the sugar levels are still suggesting an early November harvest. At this time in 2009, we were ten days from harvest.

[Update: It cleared by late afternoon. The Cabernet grapes, shielded by a thick canopy of leaves look fairly dry. The Sangiovese grapes, more exposed, are somewhat damp, but I suspect they'll dry out with little damage having been done. And so the waiting begins again....]

Birds I'm Watching: Santa Rosa, Point Reyes (September 14-15, 2010)

I took a short walk along Melita Rd. yesterday afternoon thinking I might see some migrating autumn warblers. I was disappointed in that, but got to watch a large flock of Cedar Waxwings and some Western Tanagers stealing grapes from a small vineyard in the front yard of one of the houses there. I got a nice photo of one of the tanagers (above). I had much better luck with warblers today.

I joined a group from the Madrone Audubon Society that went out to Point Reyes this morning--in dense, bone-chilling fog. There were virtually no warblers to be seen in the early part of the day out toward the lighthouse, except a single bird that no one got a good look at and no one was able to identify. The highlight at the lighthouse was a Rock Wren, which was a new bird for me. I also got good, leisurely looks at a couple of Red-breasted Nuthatches, another new bird for me.

After lunch, out at Chimney Rock (which the bird people seem to refer to rather loosely as "the fish docks") we had better luck, tipped off by a group that was leaving as we arrived. We eventually found a single (probably female) Magnolia Warbler (yet another new bird for me) and two Black-and-white Warblers (which I saw for the first time in my life just last week, out at Bodega Bay), along with some Townsend's Warblers, a couple of Warbling Vireos, and about six flycatchers that seemed mostly to have been Western Wood Pewees (photo), although--as is often the case with the flycatchers--no one seemed positive. Despite the cold, damp fog and poor visibility in the early part of the day, it was a worthwhile trip. With the addition of Rock Wren, Red-breasted Nuthatch, and Wagnolia Warbler, my life list now stands at 317.

For more information about bird watching in Sonoma County, see my Website Sonoma County Bird Watching Spots

Wines I'm Drinking: 2009 Mas Brunet Coteaux du Languedoc Blanc

I've been home from a 10-week stay in southern France (with side trips to Barcelona, Corsica, Sardinia, and Italy proper) for a month tomorrow. I'm finally getting the last of the suitcases squared away. Among various receipts, brochures, odd bits of change (from this trip and, evidently, others), and the occasional rock labeled with a vineyard or other name in the bottom of one bag, I came across a cork in an envelope covered with tasting notes. I had forgotten about this wine, but it was a good one, so I've decided to belatedly write up the thoughts I jotted down while enjoying it.

I bought  the wine in an excellent little shop in St. Guilhem-le-Desert. I regret not having made a note of the name of the place. There was an excellent selection of high-end local wines, the proprietor spoke English, and he knew his product well.

The 2009 Mas Brunet Coteaux du Languedoc Blanc is a blend of Rousanne, Vermentino, and Vioginer. I chose it mostly because of the Vermentino component, having recently had so many good Vermentino wines in Sardinia--notably the 2007 Funtanaliras Vermentino and the 2008 "Arakèna" Vermentino di Gallura, both from the Cantina del Vermentino, in Monti, in Sardinia's Gallura region (the northeast). Having said that, the assertiveness of the Viognier made this selection rather different from any straight Vermentino wine. Brief tasting notes follow.

A very pale but pretty straw color. The sort of wine that makes its presence known immediately. Floral scents and a telltale peachy, Viognier-scent were evident even before putting my nose to the glass--but there was more than that. There was something like butter cream (or cake icing, perhaps), and there were vanilla scents. Initially seemed astringent, smoky, and a bit woody on the palate, but then it began to give an impression of creamy richness followed by some tannic graininess and then a lingering, fruity sweetness on an extended finish (although the wine is quite dry). With a little time, new scents and flavors emerged. I began to get hints of iron, honey, vanilla yogurt, and finally nutmeg. Complex, assertive, interesting, and delicious. I paid about €12 (or around $15) for the bottle. Recommended (although this wine is unlikely to be available in the US). If you can find it, it's well worth a try, and I suspect this is a producer worth keeping an eye out for.

For more wine reviews, use the Wines I'm Drinking label.

Wines I'm Drinking: 2005 Château Franc Grace-Dieu, St. Emilion

I recently tasted the 2005 Château Franc Grace-Dieu, a wine from St. Emilion that I bought a year or so ago at the Wine Spectrum Bar and Shop here in Santa Rosa. I tasted it only briefly at the store, but liked it well enough to buy nine bottles on the spot. This is the first one I've opened and taken the time to linger over. If I'd had the name in my head last month, I might have stopped by the winery when I was in the neighborhood, but I didn't think of it. Brief tasting notes follow.

The wine was a deep blackish-red. Very nice color. Looks vibrant. Looks almost like berry juice. A fresh, young-looking wine. Quite closed on the nose. Hints of rose water, and a little citrus, but not a lot more. Perhaps going through a dumb phase? On the palate seemed similarly closed at first, but velvety, with cloaked, soft, delicate tannins. Good length, but not very generous at the moment. Clearly needs more time in bottle. I let it sit for about an hour and came back to it, which opened things up considerably. The tannins had gained a little bite and the flavor profile was noticeably more expansive, suggestive of blueberries, coffee, and graham crackers. Still quite tight--and likely to be misunderstood at this stage--but a clean, well-made, poised wine that promises to improve. I look forward to opening another bottle in a couple of years. I would expect this to be at its peak from 2015-2020 or beyond. I paid $17.99/bottle in 2008. Recommended--but don't buy this if you're the impatient type. If you must drink it now, decant it and give it plenty of time.

Found Art: Tomatoes and Autumn Peppers (September 11, 2010)

I went down to the farmers' market at the Veteran's Building in Santa Rosa on Saturday, my first visit to the market since getting back from France. As always, my first priority was finding good tomatoes. There were many available, generally at about $2.50-$3.00 a pound, which is better than the stores at the moment--and the tomatoes are fresher and taste better. My favorites are the greenish-purplish, deeply lobed ones (lower right corner of the photo).

I love to see the many varieties of heirloom tomatoes, but I was particularly impressed at one stand by the piles of peppers in virtually every color a pepper comes in. Beautiful. Found art.

Birds I'm Watching: Warblers at Bodega Bay (September 9, 2010)

Well, it's that time of year. Migration is under way. In the coming weeks there should be good opportunities to see unusual warblers and other birds passing through our area on the way to warmer climates to the south. One famous spot--famous among local bird watchers, anyway--for finding warblers at this time of year is Owl Canyon (not official; only bird watchers appear to know the place by this name), near Campbell Cove, at Bodega Bay (look for the eucalyptus trees on the right as you head out to the Cove).

For the last couple of days, a black-and-white warbler has been hanging out there. I went to find it yesterday--and succeeded. It was in a scraggly pine at the extreme right of the trees on that side of the entrance to the Canyon (the end away from Campbell Cove, a good 150 yards from the entrance). A very pretty bird. The day before, I saw a Macgillivry's warbler in the Canyon itself, low down and just inside the entrance. Two life birds in two days, bringing my total to 312, with 182 species in Sonoma County. Progress, but 312 is not even 3% of the number of bird species on Earth.

Illustration: Black-and-white warblers from The Bird Book, by Chester A. Reed, 1915 (public domain).

For more information about bird watching in Sonoma County, see my Website Sonoma County Bird Watching Spots

Birds I'm Watching: Spring Lake, Bodega Bay (September 8, 2010)

I participated in the autumn bird survey at Spring Lake (in Santa Rosa) yesterday. It was my first extended hike with other bird watchers since returning to the US, a pleasant diversion. The group split into two teams, mine taking the "high road," staying up above the lake. A second group stayed down by the water. I record only what I see myself, which was a large fraction of the group total, but I once again missed seeing a Western Tanager. Western Wood Pewee was a new bird for me, though.

Other birds I saw at Spring lake were: Mallard, California Quail, Oak Titmouse, American Crow, Anna's Hummingbird, Dark-eyed Junco, California Towhee, Steller's Jay, Song Sparrow, Spotted Towhee, Acorn Woodpecker, Nuttall's Woodpecker, Black Phoebe, Hutton's Vireo, Belted Kingfisher, Bushtit, Bewick's Wren, Scrub Jay, Yellow Warbler, Vaux's Swift, Turkey vulture, Cliff Swallow (about 200!), Violet-green Swallow, Wrentit, Cedar Waxwing, House Finch, Orange-crowned Warbler, Western Bluebird, Canada Goose, Warbling Vireo, Red-shouldered Hawk, Cooper's Hawk, and Common Raven--for a total of thirty-six species.

Later in the day, went out to Bodega in the hope of finding interesting migrants. The trip wasn't that productive generally speaking, but I saw a Macgillivray's Warbler for the first time. All in all, a good day for birds--especially as I got quite a few good photographs, some of which are posted here (from top to bottom--Scrub Jay at Bodega Bay, California Quail at spring lake, and Western Sandpipers at Bodega Bay).

Birds I saw at Bodega Bay were: White-winged Scoter, Common Loon, American Goldfinch, Double-crested Cormorant, Pelagic Cormorant, Brandt's Cormorant, Scrub Jay, Great Egret, Western Gull, Ring-billed Gull, White Pelican, Great Blue Heron, Marbled Godwit, Black Oystercatcher, Black Turnstone, Belted Kingfisher, Pied-billed Grebe, Song Sparrow, Western Sandpiper, Least Sandpiper, Black-bellied Plover, and Dowitchers--these mostly along the coast and at Campbell Cove and Bodega Head. It was at Owl Canyon, that I got my first look at the Macgillivray's Warbler.

For more information about bird watching in Sonoma County,
see my Website Sonoma County Birding Spots

Wines I'm Making: 2010 Grape Progress Slow

Since arriving back in the US, the weather has been generally cool, but closer to normal than it appears to have been during my absence--with one exception, a two-day hot spell in the third week of August. That sudden heat spike, following weeks of colder-than-normal weather appears to have hit grape growers hard. Many had picked leaves to expose fruit that was behind schedule, in the hope that more air and sun would speed ripening and avoid mold. The grapes were in many cases still not fully colored, and the strong sun and heat ruined many tender berries. Our Cabernet was better protected and so far has fared well, although the sugar levels are well behind those of last year. The Sangiovese had dropped more leaves than the Cabernet because of water stress (I was hoping to go without watering them at all this year, but gave them six hours on the drip following the heat spike), and some of the Sangiovese berries have suffered, but I still expect to get a reasonable yield.

It the past couple of days, I've been testing random berries here and there. The majority of the vines appear to be at around 17 brix at the moment. At this time last year, the Sangiovese was already at 22 brix. If the rule of thumb about sugar and time (one degree brix a week on average) is correct, that suggests we won't be harvesting for another five weeks or so--or in the second week of November! Last year we harvested on September 29. Our latest harvest to date has been October 7, in 2008. We've picked as early as September 3. The later it gets, the greater the risk of rain and therefore mold--and the more chance raccoons and other animals have to steal fruit. This will be a difficult year unless we have a sustained three weeks or so in the mid-eighties. We'll see.

Books I'm Reading: The Command of the Ocean

I've finally finished reading N. A. M. Rodger's The Command of the Ocean: A Naval History of Britain, 1649-1815 (Penguin paperback edition, 2006), as thorough and excellent a piece of history writing I've encountered in a long time. I picked up the book at Heathrow Airport nearly two months ago now, on my way to France following a week in England (mostly Cornwall and the southern coast), inspired by a desire to at least somewhat reduce my ignorance of British naval history following a visit the day before to the HMS Victory in dry dock at Portsmouth.

My shelves are peppered with similar book purchases, some of which I have yet to read (I will get to them someday). Looking over at my bookshelves, I can see Stories of Hawaii, by Jack London (Edited by A. Grove Day, Mutual Publishing Co., Honolulu), picked up in a Big Island book store on a visit to Hawaii in 1996. I can see A History of Scotland, by J. D. Mackie (Penguin paperback, 1991), purchased on a trip to Scotland around 1993, along with A Journey to the Western Islands of Scotland and The Journal of a Tour of the Hebrides, by Samuel Johnson and James Boswell (Penguin Classics, 1984), picked up on or just after the same trip. I can see Northwest Wines, by Paul Gregett, Dan McCarthy, and Jeff Prather (Sasquatch Books, Seattle, 1996) acquired on a trip to the Oregon wine country, and The British Columbia Wine Companion, by John Schreiner (Orca Book Publishers, 1996), acquired on one of many skiing trips to Blackcomb, in British Columbia. I see The Journals of Lewis and Clark (Edited by John Bakeless, Signet Classics, 2002), purchased on a road trip into northern California and Oregon years ago. And there was Rubber, Madelon Lulof's 1931 novel about life on the rubber plantations of Sumatra, acquired on a visit to Bali (although I don't seem to have kept my copy). A certain melancholy surrounds my memories of these volumes. In every case, I wish I had read the book before embarking. Travel feeds curiosity--a good thing--but I always feel I should have known more beforehand.

The Command of the Ocean: A Naval History of Britain, 1649-1815 is one of two formidable-looking books on British Naval history by Rodger (this one follows an earlier volume covering the period from 660 to 1649). The book is 907 pages long, but it's not quite as long as that suggests. The main text ends on page 583, followed by a number of appendices (including a chronology, technical data on ships, pay rates, lists of admirals and officials, and financial data), extensive references, a glossary, an impressive bibliography, and a thorough index. There is a section of detailed maps at the start of the book as well. It was exactly what I wanted, providing the background that I would like to have had before visiting HMS Victory. Better late than never.

The writing is clear and concise even in the denser sections on shipbuilding and naval architecture, manning of warships, logistics and victualing, disease, commercial shipping, finance, administration, and politics, and these are covered in detail. Accounts of military operations occupy a comparatively small number of pages, which may be disappointing to anyone looking mainly for bloody battles and heroics, but the reward of this approach is to provide a broad understanding of the technical and political context of the many battles fought during the nearly two centuries the text covers--and these battles, of course, are not neglected. I would have liked a section on sailing technique for the layman, but that's the only thing that seemed remotely "missing" from this book, as a complete understanding of the sketches of operations depend on a greater familiarity with the details of sailing than I (and I suspect many other modern readers) can draw on.

I was particularly impressed by the author's approach to controversial issues. His method is always to step back, give an overview of various opinions and new scholarship, and then to detail reasons for supporting one view or another, or for taking a new view--always giving the impression that he has gathered all the evidence, sifted it, and come to the most correct conclusion possible. A feat of scholarship and a wonderfully entertaining piece of writing at the same time, this is one of those books that you wish would just keep on going. Highly recommended.

Wines I'm Drinking: Yorkville Cellars

On a short trip north towards Mendocino recently, I stopped in at Yorkville Cellars, in Yorkville, a little town on Highway 128, the road that connects Cloverdale and Boonville with the Pacific coast south of Mendocino. I had driven past the place before, but never stopped. What caught my eye this time were the patches of vines along the road marked "Petit Verdot" and "Carmenere." I wasn't aware that anyone in the area was growing Carmènére and was hoping to try the wine, but it was already sold out and production is so small that it usually goes only to club members. According to the friendly man in the tasting room, there are only 50 acres planted in all of California.

I tasted a crisp Sauvignon Blanc; an interesting Semillon with waxy scents and hints of anise both on the nose and the palate; a bright pink, strawberry-scented Cabernet Franc rosé; a Merlot; and a Cabernet. Most of the wines appear to be made from organically grown estate grapes. This winery is interesting for its complete range of the Bordeaux grapes, including the obscure ones--like Carmènére. Is there another winery in California that bottles Petit Verdot, Malbec, Carmènére, Merlot, Cabernet Franc, Cabernet Sauvignon, Sauvignon Blanc, and Semillon? I doubt it.

I liked the 2007 Yorkville Highlands Semillon best. I picked up a bottle, although at $20 it seemed pricey after all the excellent inexpensive wine I consumed in France, Italy, and Spain over the summer (generally in the $4-8 range)--but nearly all California wine seems overpriced, so that's not a special criticism aimed at Yorkville. It was a very pleasant visit. For more information, see the Yorkville Cellars Website or drop by the tasting room (707) 894-9177. The drive from Cloverdale to Mendocino on Highway 128 is a very pretty one.

Miscellaneous: Downsizing

An NPR article I saw today describes a new game--a kind of word deflation or downsizing of familiar titles or the names of famous people in amusing ways--for example, transforming The Grapes of Wrath into The Currants of Perturbation--the brainchild of NPR writer Scott Simon and Austin Tichenor of the Reduced Shakespeare Company, which specializes in doing drastically abridged versions of the works of Shakespeare. I immediately thought of a few downsized variations on the names of some famous actors and actresses:

Cary Loan

Katharine Hepsmolder

Sean Nib

Richard Cog

Dustin Hoffboy

Robert Duvmost

Rodney Dangerplot

Ben Still

Billy Cutglass

Marlon Generico

Mary Tyler Less

Sharon Pebble

Gwyneth Paltry

Whoopi Silverberg

Kate Eastriver

Orson Springs

Claude Drizzles
Ernest Borgeight

The possibilities are endless....

Tidbits: RIP--The Rialto Cinemas Lakeside, Santa Rosa

Tonight was the last night of showings at the Rialto Cinemas Lakeside, on Summerfield Rd., not far from where I live in Santa Rosa. I had heard the place had been forced to close, but didn't realize tonight was the last night. If I had known, I would have gone. What a shame to lose such a good theater so close to home. I will miss the place and the memories associated with it. Now where do we go to see the films the big commercial houses refuse to show?

On the Road (Europe 2010): Home Again

After more than two months away, it's strange to be home again. I'd gotten used to the rhythm of southern France and the driving (roundabouts everywhere and drivers showing rather more exuberance behind the wheel than is common here--despite the very narrow streets and country roads lined with massive plane trees, most with telltale patches of bark missing at bumper level). I'll miss the fresh baguettes and the cheap wine and cheese.

Everything looks insubstantial here compared with the stone and iron of the little French villages. It will take a few days to adjust, many more days to clean up the garden, which is overgrown and in need of water, despite the very cool temperatures Santa Rosa seems to have had. Many flowers are still blooming that are normally finished by late June. Everything seems to be about six weeks behind--although the Flavor King pluot had a lot of fruit this year. Yesterday I picked what the raccoons hadn't already eaten. When will we harvest the grapes? Late October or early November even? The taxi driver from the airport said it's been called the coldest summer here in 50 years.

Is post-vacation depression a recognized condition?

On the Road (Europe 2010): Paris Again

 

Back in Paris again on the evening of the 12th, a couple days ahead of departure for home on the 15th. The drive into Paris from Normandy was an easy three hours. Had planned to arrive earlier in the day, but ended up leaving Caen later than anticipated. The Peace Memorial Museum in Caen takes several hours to see. Found a place to park the car in Paris right in front of the apartment (miraculously). Interestingly, all parking in Paris appears to be free during the month of August. Perhaps the luck in parking was not so hard to explain, the entire city was strangely quiet. More tourists than French people--or so it seemed. Many shops were closed for the annual vacation everyone seems to take simultaneously.

Did some last-minute gift shopping--and some last-minute sightseeing. Took a look at La Madeleine, which I'd never been inside of before; looked in on the ultra-fancy stores nearby (Fauchon, Hediard, and Nicolas--the young couple in the photo above looking longingly at the tomatoes is peering in at one of the windows at Fauchon); walked around the Place de la Concorde and the Etoile; and spent most of the end of the day visiting the Musée de l'Orangerie, which I'd never seen before--despite a number of attempts in the past. On my walk back to the apartment from Trocadero station, I stopped in at the Cimètiere de Passy again for a final look at some of the famous graves there. Dinner in the evening with the same friends we saw on the first days of the trip was a nice way to end a nine-week stay in Europe.

La Madeleine is a church masquerading as a Greek temple. I thought it rather dark and depressing inside, although there's some interesting sculpture and the bronze doors are impressive. It is said to have been modeled on the Maison Carrée, which I remember seeing at Nîmes years ago. The Maison Carrée is one of the best preserved Roman-era temples in the world. The very Greek exterior of La Madeleine seems an odd way to enclose a Christian space. Its construction appears to have been very mixed up in conception from the outset, with a number of false starts and sudden changes of design in the middle of the work. While the building is a fairly coherent Greek-style temple from the outside, taken as a whole, the confusion shows.

I enjoyed seeing the Musée de l'Orangerie, and it was a good way to get out of the drizzle that had started while walking around the Place de la Concorde. I saw the bronze marker in the Place that refers to the executions during the Revolution. I see that it doesn't actually indicate the spot of any particular execution. It says merely that Place de la Concorde was the principal scene of most of the public executions that took place during the Terror. I missed the marker that indicates the starting point for the measurement of France's highways, which is supposed to be set in the pavement of the Place (at Notre Dame it was noted that distances between Paris and all other French cities are measured from the spot between the two towers of the cathedral), but the obelisk and the two large fountains were worth a look. I have ridden through the Place in taxis on a number of occasions, but had never actually walked around it.

The museum houses Monet's Nymphéas, his last major group of water lilies, painted between 1920 and his death in 1926, and (since 1965) the Jean Walter and Paul Guillaume collection of impressionist and post-impressionist works. The water lilies are displayed in two linked oval rooms preceded by an empty vestibule Monet intended as a buffer zone between the life of the city and the mood of contemplation he wanted for the paintings. The rooms are lit from above by a very pretty diffused light (again, Monet's own preference). No photograph of them from any distance can convey the feel of the paint on the canvas. In person the temptation is to walk up close to the paintings and examine every stroke of color, getting lost in the abstract patterns that emerge as the overall picture dissolves into incoherence. Just as strong is the temptation to walk backwards away from the paintings to watch the seemingly random paint marks coalesce into images of flowers on water, reflected sky, shadows of trees, and overhanging branches.

The remainder of the collection was worth seeing as well. There are quite a few paintings by Cézanne and Gauguin I'd never seen before. There are many (too many, in my view) by Renoir, works by Matisse and Picasso, and an interesting group of paintings by Chaim Soutine that I really enjoyed seeing. I've always liked his distorted, sloppy but sympathetic portraits. The collection also includes works by Derain, Rousseau, Utrillo, Laurencin, Sisley, and others. Modigliani's wonderful portrait of Paul Guillaume is here and one of the larger reclining nudes is also in the collection.

On the way home, I stopped at the Cimètiere de Passy, hoping to see a few of the famous graves there. Having enquired at the guard station and with map in hand I set off to find Claude Debussy, Gabriel Fauré, Edouard Manet, and Berthe Morisot. An older Frenchman was on his way to showing a couple from South Carolina Fauré's stone and I tagged along. I'm not sure how these three met up. The Americans just seemed to have been passing by. I asked the man if he was connected with the cemetery, because he knew it so well. He described himself as simply a man interested in history. I ended up interpreting for the couple--which was a bit of a surprise; my French, while still rudimentary, has made a lot of progress. He showed us many other famous graves, including several early French aviators, Vietnam's last emperor, and a daughter of the Shah of Iran. One of the co-founders of Renault is buried here. Members of the Lapostolle family (creators of Grand Marnier) are buried here as well (Lapostolle is a name I know in connection with wines from Chile--this is the same family). A busy but satisfying day.

On the Road (Europe 2010): St. Emilion and Normandy

A busy three days. Took a circuitous route from Pouzolles in the south back to Paris, by way of St. Emilion (near Bordeaux), the Cotentin Peninsula, the WWII Normandy landing beaches, and Bayeux. The northwest is the only part of France I’d never been to before—which is not a coincidence. Brittany and Normandy are the only parts of France that have no major wine-producing areas. Normandy is the land of galettes (savory buckwheat crepes) and cider, both of which are quite good. In Bayeaux, had an excellent galette Normande, with blood sausage, Camembert, and apples. I had hoped to stop briefly in Gauguin’s favorite Brittany town of Pont-Aven, but time didn’t permit a diversion so far west.

There was little time for much lingering anywhere, really. I just wanted to see the vines around Bordeaux again. Drove through St. Emilion, along the road that separates the vineyards of La Dominique and La Conseillante. La Dominique has long been one of my favorite St. Emilion wines. Drove also through some of the satellite villages—St. Georges and Montagne, in particular--and Pomerol. Another veritable sea of grape vines. The grapes seem late. They are just beginning to take on color.

I took the opportunity of being in a wooded area (the hotel was just on the border of Lussac and Puisseguin) to get up at around 6:30 and take a walk along a strip of trees and brush between vineyards. I got a glimpse of a Green Woodpecker and got a good look at what was either a Melodious Warbler or an Icterine Warbler—still working on that identification—but that brings my total of birds identified on this lengthy trip in Europe to 69, of which 59 have been first sightings for me.

Visiting the beaches in Normandy gave me a sense of the scale of the invasion I’ve never had before. I had not realized how big the distances are. Utah Beach is a good 15-minute drive west and north of Omaha Beach. Omaha is a comparable distance west of Gold, Juno, and Sword, which are closer together. Omaha Beach today looks like any other strip of beach on the north coast. It’s hard to imagine the events of D-Day in what is now such a peaceful place. Utah Beach has a number of fairly intact gun emplacements and pillboxes, which gives it a more visceral impact.

Perhaps most interesting was Gold Beach, near Arromanches, which was one of the two British sectors. Here the remains of Mulberry B, one of the two temporary harbors put in place to supply the Allied beachhead are easily visible. A row of prefabricated concrete caissons still sits on the beach (photo). Large concrete structures built offshore are intact enough to see where the enclosed area was (at the horizon in the photo). The peace memorial museum in Caen puts everything into perspective. Practicalities meant that we toured the beaches from west to east, but it would probably be ideal to do the opposite, visiting the Caen museum first.

Bayeux, with its beautiful cathedral and the Bayeux Tapestry (which is actually an extraordinary piece of embroidery) were a welcome relief from the somber monuments that are thick on the ground in Normandy (I also saw the famous church in St. Mere Eglise and visited the American Cemetery above Omaha Beach—this last again a strangely quiet, peaceful, and beautiful place so close to the site of past carnage below it on the beach).

I literally ran into the town of Bayeux, hoping to get a photograph or two of the cathedral façade in the beautiful late evening light after clouds had cleared. I very much liked this building—right up there with Pisa in terms of its architectural interest, and from about the same period. It was started in the 11th century, built in Norman Romanesque style but later considerably embellished with gothic decorations as the gothic style moved west and south from the Isle-de-France region. The original square towers can still be seen under the gothic spires that were added later. The vertical buttresses on the front of the towers were added to support the new spires. The decoration between the towers and elsewhere around the building, including the main west portal are all later, but the Romanesque building is there underneath it all. The entire town is rather well preserved. The Germans apparently left Bayeaux quickly, which spared it the destruction of so many other towns and villages in the area.

The Tapestry was wonderful. Having as a child heard my parents speak of their seeing it while traveling in France, I’ve always wanted to have my own look at it. It’s much longer and broader than I’d imagined. It has a wonderful rhythm. I'm sure I'm not alone in having particularly liked the scenes of eating and food preparation, the battle scenes with rows of overlapping horses, and the scenes with many ships setting off from shore. There was a lengthy wait to get in, but it was well worth it to see this extraordinarily well-preserved textile. The audio guide included in the admission price moves much too quickly (although you can pause it), but it is succinct and informative. An excellent museum. The photo here is one I took not of the original (which is forbidden--in this case rightly so; flash exposure would accelerate deterioration of the fabric) but of one of the plastic placemats they sell in the gift shop. The color of these is very close to the original (and much truer than that of the post cards for sale), and because of their large format, you can see the stitching at about life size. You wouldn't have known it was a plastic placemat if I hadn't told you.

On the road (Europe 2010): St. Guilhem-le-Desert, Collioure, St. Jean de Fos

The past three days have been spent further exploring places within day-trip range of Pouzolles. Yesterday went swimming near St. Guilhem-le-Desert, spent the day before in Colliure, near the Spanish border. The day before that, visited St. Guilhem-le-Desert for the first time. Today leaving Pouzolles for Paris and the trip home. Details to follow as I get time to write.

St. Guilhem-le-Desert is a well preserved medieval town with a monastery as its centerpiece. The town is a UNESCO World Heritage Site and it is on the list of "The Most Beautiful Villages of France." Hadn't really intended to go, but stopped off on the way to somewhere else, lured by a sign referring to Pont du Diable, or "The Devil's Bridge," about which I knew nothing.

There is a substantial parking lot and remarkably modern and well equipped visitors' center above the bridge (selling local produce and with a wine-tasting bar, information center, gift shop, and clean toilets), a fair walk from the bridge  itself (which is not visible until you're right on top of it). Having parked, not sure what to expect, I was reminded of stories of people lining up in the old Soviet Union to buy things without knowing what was for sale, simply on the assumption that it would be something worth having if people were lining up for it (which wasn't always true, I've been told). The medieval arched bridge just outside town is rather spectacularly sited in a gorge. It turned out to be worth a look.

Doing a little research, I see there are "devil bridges" all over Europe. They are typically medieval and built in places remote or difficult of access requiring considerable technical skill to complete. A variety of legends attach to them, but they are usually said to have been built with the help of the devil--or, sometimes, in spite of the devil's attempts to thwart their construction. This one, spanning a deep gorge cut by the Herault River, was built in the early 11th century by Benedictines to connect the abbeys at Aniane and Saint Guilhem-le-Desert. It is part of the Way of St. James (El Camino de Santiago in Spanish, Chemin de St. Jacques in French) pilgrimage route to Spain, the medieval road to the Cathedral of Santiago de Compostela in northwestern Spain, where the remains of St. James are said to be buried.

Two days later, we came back, this time lured by the swimming and kayaking. It was great fun jumping off the rocks along the gorge into the deep, cool water--deliciously cool. I dived from rocks perhaps 10 feet high. The local children happily jump from places two or three times higher. A few daredevils were jumping from nooks still higher in the rocks. The water must be at least 30 or 40 feet deep. Look again at the photo of the bridge above. Notice the boy in mid-air just to the left of the bridge support. He's jumping down to the level of the kayaks.

After swimming and kayaking, visited the town next door, St. Jean de Fos (there sure are a lot of saints and a lot of towns named after them in France), which happened to be having a pottery festival. Many potters live and work in the town. There was a wide variety on offer, mostly new work, but one or two vendors were selling antique pottery. I was tempted by old cheese cups--little glazed clay pots with holes in them for separating curds and whey, They were beautiful little sculptures, but what was I really going to do with these things? I resisted.

Colliure was beautiful. I wanted to see this little resort town nearly on the Spanish border because I have seen so many paintings of it--painted by Matissse, Derain, Dufy, Braque, Picasso, Foujita, Charles Rennie Mackintosh and others. It's easy to see what attracted them all--the beautiful beaches, the cafés overlooking the bay, the excursion ships, the fortifications, and the vineyards terraced on the hills above the town. Everywhere you look is a picture. The town's centerpiece is the lighthouse converted into a church (pictured). Parking is tough, but it's worth the walk into town.

In Colliure, had some of the best ice cream I've ever had in my life. I had a scoop of vanilla with a scoop of violet on top--and it really tasted of violets. Rich, creamy, and powerfully flavored. Everything they had was delicious--I sampled a few other flavors. The shop is called Saveurs d'Antan. If you happen to read this and find yourself in Colliure, look for it.

Wines I'm Drinking: 2009 Les Coteaux des Berlou Saint Chinian "Schisteil Blanc"

Tonight I tasted the 2009 Schisteil Blanc Saint Chinian from Les Coteaux des Berlou, a tiny cooperative in the tiny town of Berlou, about 35 minutes north of Pouzolles, where I've been living for the summer. Berlou is one of the villages in the Saint Chinian appellation. This cooperative also makes a wonderful rosé and (in my view) a less interesting red wine. Notes follow.

A pale straw color. Smells like a vegetable stew in a rich tomato sauce, laced with creme--perhaps with a squeeze of lime in it--which is perhaps an odd thing for a white wine to smell like, but it works. Perhaps it would be better to say "stewed tomatoes and lime," but this immediately reminded me of a wonderful rabbit stew recipe from Paul Bocuse that comes in a vegetable-rich tomato-based sauce and is meant to be served with a dollop of cream in it. Later it began to smell of honey with a hint of roasted meat.

At first, the wine seems delicate on the palate--mostly just clean and crisp--but the initial acidity falls away quickly to reveal  a solid core of fruit, tending toward pears and citrus, and there's even a hint of tannin. Good length. A white wine with grip. A wave of subtler acidity comes back on the extended finish, with little bursts of grapefruit-like flavors on the very end. This is a delicious blend of Grenache Blanc, Rousanne, and Marsanne. Delightful. A bargain at about €5 a bottle (less than $6 a bottle). Why can't California wineries produce delicious wines like this at prices like this? A wine of this caliber in California would typically sell in the $17-$24 range--three to four times as much.

On the road (Europe 2010): The River Orb and Berlou

Been exploring the area north and west of Pouzolles in the past couple of days, in between bouts of work. The valley of the Orb river is rather picturesque and offers such recreation as kayaking and rafting. Many people swim there and dive from the convoluted rock formations that line the shore. I was rather impressed by the children doing back flips from rocks 20-30 feet high. The water is deep and fast in places and somewhat murky. I haven't seen anyone fishing there, but there are quite a few fish in the water, too. Very pretty and an interesting change from swimming in the sea. I think the last time I went swimming in a river was probably around 1974, in the Little Miami, near Yellow Springs, Ohio.

Driving through the hills in the area, heading for the town of Berlou, hit a detour. A temporary route took us virtually to the doorstep of the Les Coteaux de Berlou. Coincidentally, this is the cooperative that made the very tasty Schisteil brand rosé I tasted a couple of weeks ago. The people in the tasting room were friendly and helpful. They seemed surprised that I had been looking for their wine--although I see that the 2009 vintage has won a gold medal in the 2010 Paris Concours Général. I tasted the 2007 (review here). Both are excellent. I picked up a few bottles to leave for the owner of the house here and a couple bottles of the white, which is a tasty blend of Grenache Blanc, Rousanne, and Marsanne.

Looking for birds, yesterday I spent a couple of hours walking in the hills around Pousselieres and La Fraise. This is beautiful country. Pousselieres is just two or three houses. The tiny road that leads to the hamlet off the D612 passes through La Fraise and La Treille on its way to Berlou. An unpaved road (marked AVA4, the meaning of which remains obscure to me) leading from the road to Pousselieres rises eventually to a summit that gives a panoramic view.

The rocky unpaved road is lined with dense mixed forest--mostly chestnuts, oaks, and pines--but here and there there are clearings carpeted in heather and bracken and spotted with small trees. These open areas seemed perfect habitat for birds (especially the sections marked AVA1 on the ridge at the top), but there were comparatively few, and the birds I did see were generally shy or distant or both. I saw a couple of uncertain warblers, what I believe to have been a yellow wagtail (although apparently not the local race of this highly variable bird; the one I saw had a mostly yellow head, typical of the flavissima subspecies), and three or four of what I believe to have been wrynecks. I've added only the wagtail to my list, though, as I like to be certain. Another frustrating day of birdwatching, but the hills were beautiful. From what I can tell from maps, this area is close to the divide between the Atlantic and Mediterranean watersheds. At the top of the dirt road, I came to markers erected by the Office National des Forêts indicating "Route Forestière: Des Crêtes" and one indicating I was in the Forêt Domaniale des Avant-Monts. Besides myself, not a soul in the place--just the wind.

Miscellaneous: Senate Approves Kagan

I see that the Senate has just voted to approve Elena Kagan as the newest justice on the Supreme Court. Politics aside, I'm pleased to see three women serving on the court simultaneously. Considering that at least about half the country is female, there ought to be more women serving, but this seems a step forward to me. Congratulations, Elena.

I wish it were easier to find the appropriate credits for photos like these....

Wines I'm Drinking: Four Saint Chinian Rosés

Last night I tasted four Saint Chinian rosés. I enjoyed all four. Having now tasted about 15 rosés from the area where I'm staying for the summer (Pouzolles, France), I've come to the conclusion that the best rosés in the area come from this appellation. These dry wines are generally marked by a good balance between raspberry-like fruitiness and crisp acidity, often with toasted, brandy-like undertones and scents and flavors suggestive of pastry or crème brulée. Focusing on rosé has been the natural result of the extremely hot weather here, although that has moderated in the past week or so. I tasted the four wines blind. Notes follow.

2009 Château St. Martin des Champs Saint Chinian Rosé
A pale to medium-deep, orange-tinged pink. Attractive nose suggestive of hawthorne blossoms, crème brulée, and (distantly) plums. Having said that, none of the scents jump out at you. Still, the overall impression is fresh and inviting. Initially seems rather tart on the palate, but has presence. Good, plummy fruit sweetness offsets the acidity. Good length, and the lingering fruit ultimately makes the wine seem harmonious. Very tasty. Clean, fresh, delicious wine. Priced at €5.30 a bottle.

2008 Cave de Roquebrun Saint Chinian Rosé "Col de Lairole"

Comparatively deep in color--the second-deepest of these four wines. A medium-deep orange-pink. Very pretty to look at in a chilled glass. Complex nose. Something floral, but something that reminded me of vegetables as well--in a good way. Fresh, raw beans. Pie crust scents as well. Somewhat softer than the first wine (that is, less acidic), but with a nice "bite" suggestive of a little tannin. Refreshing strawberry fruitiness and a tasty hint of bitterness on the finish. Seems a bit rustic compared with the wine above, but another delicious summer wine, and attractively priced at only €4.16 a bottle.  

2009 Domaine La Maurine Rouge Saint Chinian Rosé

The palest in color of these four wines, tending more toward pink than orange. Interesting petroleum-like scent, reminiscent of certain Riesling wines. Rose water. A hint of gooseberries and passion fruit. Rather interesting nose. Quite rich with intense, fruity sweetness on the palate (although the wine is quite dry). Suggests red raspberries and roses. Passion fruit again on the palate as well. A hint of tannin. Moderately long, prickly, fruity finish. Enough acidity to balance the fruit, but softer than many of the rosés I've been tasting. Overall, very refreshing and enjoyable, if not profound. €5.30 a bottle.      

2008 Cave de Roquebrun Saint Chinian Rosé "Terrasses de Cabrio"
Deepest in color of the four wines--looking almost like brandy--but with pink undertones. A very pretty wine to look at. Surprisingly distant on the nose. Something doughy at first. Later developed toasted, roasted scents. Pastry. Sweet potato pie. Drier, less fruity, and softer than some of the other wines, and shorter as well, despite the deep color, but with a little time, this opens up to seem richer and fuller--and these are all relative terms. Another tasty Saint Chinian rosé. Priced at €6.04 a bottle, perhaps not the best value of the bunch, but even that is cheap by US standards. You'd be hard-pressed to find a California rosé as good at this price point (about $7.00).

On the road (Europe 2010): Roquebrun

Yesterday, after a morning of work, took a short drive north, to the town of Roquebrun. Perched on a hillside overlooking the River Orb and the vineyards of the Saint Chinian appellation, it's a pretty town topped by the ruins of a 10th century tower. An attractive old bridge takes the road over the river and into the town, which has some interesting stone buildings surviving in the back streets. Many of these use the local schist and slate as building materials.

Took a walk up the steep hill toward the tower to the Jardin Méditerranéen, a small botanical garden on the terraced slopes below (and above) the tower that features plants from the Mediterranean region and places with similar climates around the world. The €5 entrance fee seemed a bit steep, but was probably worth it--more for the view than for the plants, most of which will be quite familiar to anyone who has ever visited a good nursery on the US West Coast. There's an excellent view of the old tower (which is actually in the gardens) and the whole surrounding valley of the Orb.

Wines I'm Drinking: Four More Languedoc Rosés

Continuing my quest to taste as many of the local rosé wines as I can while staying in Pouzolles, last night I compared four from producers within a stone's throw of the house (within about 15 minutes driving). I've tasted a wide range already in the past weeks. The best have been very good indeed--generally a deep orange-pink, rich and toasty but fruity and crisp. The worst have been pale and watery and exceedingly acidic. Unfortunately, these four wines were mostly of the latter type, but I report on the disappointments as well as the pleasant surprises. I tasted the four wines blind because one was a gold medal winner at the 2010 Paris Concours Géneral Agricole. I didn't want to be influenced by that knowledge. Notes follow.

2009 Domaine Moulin de Lène, Alphonse de Lène Rosé
A very pale pink blend of Cinsault and Grenache, this is a Vin de Pays d'Oc. Very pale, indeed. At certain angles and in the right light, it would be hard to tell it from water. Rather neutral on the nose but with some earthy scents. Something metallic about the nose as well. Not very forthcoming, but not unpleasant. Medium body on the palate. Fairly good length. Tart, fresh, and drinkable, but ultimately thin and not very distinctive. Inexpensive at only €3.6 a bottle. This was not especially interesting, but it turned out to be one of the better wines of the bunch.

2008 Domaine de la Reynardière Vin de Pays des Coteaux de Murviel Rosé
A pretty, medium orange-pink. The color was this wine's most attractive attribute. I don't know what went wrong here, but it took courage to taste this after smelling it. It had a strange, fishy nose. It reminded me of slime at the bottom of a pond. I can think of nothing else to describe it. The smell persisted. It didn't seem to be the fleeting, temporary stink some bottles have. The wine tasted better than it smelled. It had fairly good body and length, but was rather sharp and there was something of the smell of the wine in the taste. I didn't, however, get the impression this was spoiled. €2.89 a bottle. No indication of what grapes it was made from. I kept the wine. Remarkably, tasting it the following day (today), the stink was completely gone. The wine had very attractive strawberry scents and it was delicious, also tasting like ripe strawberries. It accompanied pasta with lunch. In the end, I liked this wine best of the four. What's going on here? Hmmm.....

2009 Domaine Saint Martin des Champs Vin de Pays d'Oc Cabernet Rosé
Another reason I wanted to taste the wines blind was that one of the four, this one, was a Cabernet rosé. I was curious to know whether it would stand out. Another pale orange-pink wine, but deeper in color than many. Fairly neutral on the nose, but with hints of something grassy--like a Sauvignon Blanc--, which gave this away as the Cabernet wine. Watermelon, and something metallic on the nose, too. On the palate, it came across as simply light, tart, and refreshing but without any particularly defining characteristics. Not at all unpleasant, but not distinctive. €3.60 a bottle.

2009 Cave de Roquebrun Vin de Pays de la Haute Vallée de l'Orb "Terres d'Orb" Rosé
Another wine from the Cave de Roquebrun, which has made some of the best wines from the immediate area that I've tasted so far. This is the gold medal winner. Medium to pale orange pink. Attractive caramel and straw scents, later it began to smell like fresh cucumber. Fuller and with more body than the other wines. Also softer--with less of the sharp acidity that seems to characterize the most ordinary rosés of the region (especially those made from Cinsault, it seems). This wine is 35% Carignan, 25% Cinsault, 25% Grenache, and 15% Syrah. All that sounds promising, but the wine had little flavor to speak of. It came across as fairly alcoholic and tart. €3.10 a bottle.

On the road (Europe 2010): Millau, Roquefort, Lacaune, Gabian

Yesterday spent the day driving in the very beautiful hilly area just north of where we are staying (Pouzolles). First stop was the famous bridge at Millau, about an hour north on the freeway. The bridge, opened in late 2004, is the highest in the world. It has the highest towers and the highest road deck. The tallest tower is higher than the Eiffel Tower (as everything you read is fond of pointing out) and nearly as tall as the Empire State Building. The bridge was designed by Michel Virlogeux and Norman Foster. It is also the longest cable-stayed bridge in the world. It spans the valley of the River Tarn.

About half an hour to the southwest is the town of Roquefort-sur-Soulzon, the famous cheese town. Funny what you can learn about things when you visit the place they come from. After two cave tours (with tastings) I came away knowing that the Roquefort appellation is one of the smallest in France. Only cheese matured in caves near the town (mostly under the town, it seems) in an area 1.2 kilometers long, 300 meters wide, and 300 meters deep can be called Roquefort. The Penicillium roqueforti mold (yes, related to the penicillin mold) is introduced into the milk to insure uniform distribution. I had thought it was introduced later, but it turns out the holes you see in the cheese (not the naturally formed ones between the chunks of curd, but the skinny man-made ones) are to introduce air, not the mold, which is grown on rye bread (80% rye, 20% wheat) from which spores are collected.

The caves were downright cold--bring warm clothing. It was interesting to see the fleurines, the underground air passages that move cool air through the network of caves that formed here about 200 million years ago, when an entire mountain (the Combalou) collapsed, leaving a huge pile of rock riddled with holes. Air moving underground through the tunnels and caves is used to maintain the temperatures required to mature the cheese. The tours were a bit disappointing actually, as you can't see any of the activities that lead up to the formation of the "loaves" of cheese (just the maturation caves), but it was interesting nevertheless. The best advertised tour is at Société. It costs €3.5 a person, but the free tour at Papillon was as informative and shorter, without the various multi-media sections of the Société tour--which was a good thing. Having said that, I preferred the cheese at Société for its exceptionally creamy texture, and one fancy section of the tour does show clearly how the caves formed using a large animated model. Both tours were in French only, but detailed explanations are provided in print in English and a number of other languages.

Drove home by way of narrow mountain roads, passing through such towns as Lacaune, Olargues, and Gabian. The roads here are beautiful--mostly the D33, D607, D907, D14, D908, D909, and D13, with many vista points overlooking deep, wooded valleys, and (as you head east and south into the lower elevations) vineyards. In the town of Lacaune (officially Lacaune-les-Bains), many of the houses have old-fashioned slate tile roofs, most made from obviously hand-cut slate. But not only are many of the roofs covered with slate, many buildings had whole walls black with slate siding--which I've never seen before. Some of the wines of the area are known for the schist-rich soils the grapes grow in. I imagine slate is easily mined in the area too. The tiles are held on with little iron hooks. Do the black tiles keep the houses cool?

Lacaune had an amusing fountain, with four men pissing. There was a plaque mounted below calling it one of the fountains on the "pissing fountain circuit," so there must be more pissing fountains in other towns nearby, but the plaque neglected to say where. According to the plaque, the fountain dates to the 16th century. Next to the fountain was a large granite basin divided into sections that appears to have been used by the people of the village to wash their clothes when this was probably their main source of water. The water is potable. All this was in an attractive little square with a row of purple-leaved plum trees.

Further south and east, where the D14 crosses a summit called Col de Fontfroide, there is a somewhat puzzling memorial--puzzling mostly because my French was not good enough to understand everything it said. It's dedicated to the WWII resistance fighters of the area. That much was clear (perhaps they hid out in these hills?), but it included an urn of ashes from Auschwitz and a piece of barbed wire from Treblinka, and there were references to deportations during the war, but it wasn't really clear to me what the connection between the hilltop and the concentration camps was.

It was pretty countryside. The hills were covered mostly in conifers, heather (purple and pink in bloom), and a broom-like plant with vivid yellow-green, needle-like leaves. There was a dirt road leading along a stand of pine trees from the memorial up and over a hillock at the summit (marked 972 meters, or 3,189 feet). Walking along this road I heard many birds, but they mostly kept themselves hidden in the vegetation. The exception was a rather vocal fellow that called incessantly while flitting among the tops of the trees. He turned out to be a European Tree Pipit (Anthus trivialis), another new bird for me.

The drive back on the D908 and D909 through Faugères (a well-known wine town) and Gabian was just at sunset. The vineyards in the valleys surrounded by stark rock outcroppings were beautiful. The photo here was taken just outside of Gabian. A reader has pointed me to an excellent little Web site about Gabian (look for the British flag for English text).