Looking Back - A Year in Provence

Looking Back... In an effort to transfer my book journal entries over to this blog, I'm going to attempt to post (in chronological order) an entry every Friday. I may or may not add extra commentary to what I jotted down in these journals.

A Year in Provence by Peter Mayle
Nonfiction - Travel Essays
1991 Vintage (first published in 1989)
Finished in November 1997
Rating: 4/5 (Very Good)

Publisher's Blurb:

In this witty and warm-hearted account, Peter Mayle tells what it is like to realize a long-cherished dream and actually move into a 200-year-old stone farmhouse in the remote country of the Lubéron with his wife and two large dogs. He endures January's frosty mistral as it comes howling down the Rhône Valley, discovers the secrets of goat racing through the middle of town, and delights in the glorious regional cuisine. A Year in Provence transports us into all the earthy pleasures of Provençal life and lets us live vicariously at a tempo governed by seasons, not by days.

My Original Notes (1997):

Marvelous! Each chapter consists of the happenings of the month. Very funny, as well as informative.

Definitely one to read again before a trip to Provence!

My Current Thoughts:

I no longer own a copy of this book, so at some point in time I must have decided it wasn't worth a re-read after all. I do remember that it was very funny, though!

The Venice Experiement

The Venice Experiment: A Year of Trial and Error Living Abroad by Barry Frangipane with Ben Robbins
Nonfiction – Travel Memoir
2011 Savory Adventures Publishing
Finished 2/19/12
Rating: 4/5 (Very Good)

Venice Challenge #3

Publisher’s Blurb:

Lured by Venice’s colorful history, Barry Frangipane was determined to experience its labyrinth of walkways, canals, and bridges, as more than just a tourist. With this in mind, he convinced his wife Debbie to join him in this grand experiment, a year long cultural immersion in the most legendary city on earth.

Through their initiation into Venetian society, Barry and Debbie discovered the close-knit family of inhabitants and innumerable cultural oddities of living in Venice, the improbable city built upon millions of tree trunks driven into the mud sixteen centuries ago. From the exasperating bureaucracy to high tides endangering their ground-floor apartment, these expatriates get far more than they bargained for.

The quintessential storyteller, Barry leads us deep into the inner workings of life in Venice. With his inexhaustible humor, he draws the reader effortlessly into his daily exploits, a journey filled with a cast of remarkable characters who will touch your heart.

It’s been a long time since I’ve read an entire book in one weekend. Granted, the font size is almost as large as that of a “large print” book, but once I started reading, the pages practically turned themselves. I wound up spending most of a Sunday afternoon curled up on the couch, lost in the magical city of Venice.

I have several pages marked with sticky notes for future reference (yes, I will get to Italy one of these days!), but upon reflection, it was not the writing (which reads like a personal travel journal or blog), but rather the destination that held my interest. Frangipane’s humor was lost on me, and as a matter of fact, there were a few instances in which I thought he was rude toward—and disdainful of—tourists in general and his wife in particular. Had I not been so interested in reading about Venice, I might have called it quits.

On Venice:

Slowly, Venice came into view. All the bell towers seemed to grow as we neared the city, with the famous campanile towering over Saint Mark’s Square.

As we left the station, the city of water opened itself up to us. The Grand Canal, directly ahead, was bustling with activity. Two vaporetto, or waterbus, stops perched on the edge of the canal with people waiting at each one. We watched people going about mundane daily routines in this exotic place that seemed to emerge directly out of the sea. Traveling down the canal were merchant boats carrying wine, toilet paper, and Coke, while a UPS boat delivered packages to businesses on the canal. Palaces rose up from the water with beautiful blown-glass chandeliers glistening in the windows. The aroma of fresh pastries filled the air.

Travel Notes:

San Daniele, a quiet little spot in the foothills of the picturesque Dolomites, was home to arguably the best prosciutto in Italy. Tiny restaurants specializing in the local delicacy were found on every corner. Many of them offered beautiful views from outside terraces, where thin slices of prosciutto were served on silver platters paired with homemade grissini breadsticks and white wine.

Serene canals near Fondamenta Misericordia along the backside of Cannaregio.

Rialto market at sunrise and Piazza San Marco at midnight.


Go here to read more about Barry and Debbie's venture in Venetian travel tours.

Debbie now has a cooking show, which you can learn more about here.

Final Thoughts: I was pleasantly surprised when I received The Venice Experiment from Bellezza—she knows my passion for travel & foodie memoirs so well—and was delighted to add the book to my stack for the Venice in February Reading Challenge.

This is neither A Year in Provence nor Under the Tuscan Sun, but I was entertained nonetheless.

Traveling with Pomegranates

Traveling with Pomegranates: A Mother-Daughter Story by Sue Monk Kidd and Ann Kidd Taylor
Nonfiction - Memoir/Travel
2009 Penguin Audio; Unabridged edition
Finished on 5/28/10
Rating: 2.5/5 (Fair)




We write to taste life twice, in the moment and in retrospection.
~Anaïs Nin

Product Description

An introspective and beautiful dual memoir by the #1 New York Times bestselling novelist and her daughter.

Sue Monk Kidd has touched the hearts of millions of readers with her beloved novels The Secret Life of Bees and The Mermaid Chair, and with her acclaimed nonfiction. Now, in this wise and intimate dual memoir, she and her daughter, Ann, a writer making her affecting debut in these pages, chronicle their travels together, and offer their distinct perspectives as a fifty-something and a twenty-something, each on a quest to redefine herself and to rediscover each other.

Between 1998 and 2000, Sue and Ann travel together to the sacred sites throughout Greece and France. Sue, newly aware of aging, caught in a creative vacuum, and longing to reconnect with her now grown daughter, struggles to find the wherewithal to enlarge a vision of swarming bees into a novel. Ann, just graduated from college, heartbroken and benumbed by the classic question about what to do with her life, grapples with a painful depression. The intimacy of travel and the wondrous nature of the places Sue and Ann visit bring forth each woman's internal struggle and provide fertile terrain for reflection and inspiration. In voices candid and lyrical, this modern-day Demeter and Persephone explore the richly symbolic and personal meaning of an array of inspiring figures and sites in Athens and Eleusis, Paris and Rocamadour, and places in between. They also give voice to a moving transformation of that most protean of human connections: the bond of mothers and daughters.

A wise and engrossing book about feminine thresholds, spiritual growth, and the relationship between mothers and daughters, Traveling with Pomegranates is both a revealing self-portrait by a beloved author and her daughter, a strong new voice, and a momentous story that will resonate with women everywhere.

I spent most of May listening to this book while driving around town in my car. As it turns out, it was the perfect book to listen to rather than read. The allusions to ancient symbols, mythology and the "sacred" began to wear on me, and it was easy to let my mind wander, momentarily tuning out the repetitious references while driving to and from work. Had I read the book, I would have certainly lost interest and given up early on. However, I did find myself wishing that I had the book to occasionally glance at and mark passages for future reference. The three maps (one of the eastern states of the U.S., one of France, and one of Greece & Turkey) would have been helpful to look at before starting each new chapter, and the following Table of Contents would have added to the points of reference:

LOSS
Greece/Turkey/South Carolina
1998 - 1999

SEARCH
France/South Carolina
1999 - 2000

RETURN
Greece
2000

AFTERWARD
September 2008

The authors narrate alternating chapters and my initial reaction to Sue's voice was that of annoyance and displeasure. She enunciates each and every word and syllable so precisely that she sounds unnatural and awkward. Ann, on the other hand, speaks in a relaxed, yet enthusiastic voice, drawing me into her narrative more so than her mother. Kind of ironic since I'm much closer to Sue's age than Ann's. But I did relate to Sue's role as a woman approaching the second half of her life, as well as that of a mother of an adult daughter.

Sitting on a bench in the National Archaeological Museum in Greece, I watch my twenty-two-year-old daughter, Ann, angle her camera before a marble bas-relief of Demeter and Persephone unaware of the small ballet she's performing—her slow, precise steps forward, the tilt of her head, the way she dips to one knee as she turns her torso, leaning into the sharp afternoon light. The scene reminds me of something, a memory maybe, but I can't recall what. I only know she looks beautiful and impossibly grown, and for reasons not clear to me I'm possessed by an acute feeling of loss.

It's the summer of 1998, a few days before my fiftieth birthday. Ann and I have been in Athens a whole twenty-seven hours, a good portion of which I've spent lying awake in a room in the Hotel Grande Bretagne, waiting for blessed daylight. I tell myself the bereft feeling that washed over me means nothing—I'm jet-lagged, that's all. But that doesn't feel particularly convincing.

I close my eyes and even in the tumult of the museum, where there seem to be ten tourists per square inch, I know the feeling is actually everything. It is the undisclosed reason I've come to the other side of the world with my daughter. Because in a way which makes no sense, she seems lost to me now. Because she is grown and a stranger. And I miss her almost violently.

and

Lying on the twin mattress, I stare at the edge of light oozing under the curtain and I think about my relationship with my daughter. Congenial, warm, nice—those are the words that come to me. We've never had one of those pyrotechnic relationships that end up being written about so often and famously in books.

We've had our moments, naturally. The period of mild rebellion when she was fourteen springs to mind, a phase when the door slammed a lot. Beyond that, we had the typical antagonisms and disagreements. I suspect like most mothers and daughters we've participated in the classic struggle: the mother, trying to let her daughter go while unconsciously seeing her as an appendage of herself. And the daughter, enmeshed in her mother's power, compelled to please her and pattern herself in her mother's image, but straining at the same time to craft an identity separate from her.

Mostly, though, our relationship has been full of goodness. I would even say, given the natural constraints of adolescent girls and their mothers, we've been close. And yet I feel my relationship with Ann now exists largely on the surface. There is distance in it that I have trouble characterizing. We talk, for instance, but nothing really heart to heart. It's as if the relationship has fallen into a strange purgatory. For so long our roles were strictly defined as mother and daughter, as adult and child. But now as she leaves college, we both seem to sense some finality to this. She is changing and I am changing, too, but we don't quite know how to shift the conversations between ourselves. How to reforge our connection.

I feel traces of guilt about the growing distance between us. I toss on the bed, remembering that while she was away at school metamorphosing into the young woman I barely know, I was too busy with a book project to notice she was gone. Her leaving was not a problem. At least not in the maternal trench where these things are usually battled out. What's more, I was proud of this. I chirped to my friends: "I don't know what the big deal is about the empty nest. It's kind of wonderful, actually."

and now from Ann's point-of-view:

Catching my eye, she waves and begins to wind her way toward me through the other tourists. I wonder why I can't tell her what I'm going through. When it came to the letter back home [a letter in which Ann's application to study ancient Greek history at the University of South Carolina's graduate program is rejected], still in the drawer with my gym socks (why did I keep it, this evidence against myself?) certainly I didn't think she'd reject me. Perhaps the shame of failing is not my only reason for not talking to her about it. We've been close since childhood, but I feel a kind of partition between us now, not anger or aloofness, but a room divider that properly marks the space: this is your territory, this is mine. I did not confide intensely personal matters to her. Are the particulars of your own darkness something you describe to your mother or your best friend?

But it wasn't just the darkness I secreted, was it? Why did I give her only the postcard version of my first trip to Greece? Ran a race in Olympia, visited Athena's Tholos, saw the Charioteer, sat beside Parthenon, danced in a restaurant with some locals, bought a pretty ring...having a great time—wish you were here. Obviously she knew I'd been affected enough to want to spend my life teaching ancient Greek history, but I'd left her to sense for herself the deeper imprint those experiences made on me. Maybe it was the particulars of my soul—the experiences, feelings, and inner thoughts I held close—that I kept from her.

Final thoughts: Overall, I enjoyed listening to this memoir. In addition to the whole mother-daughter dance and travel stories, I found it interesting to learn about Sue's initial ideas for her novel, The Secret Life of Bees (a book I've read and enjoyed more than once), as well as Ann discovery of her own passion for writing. And yet, this isn't a book I want to own or read again.

Go here to listen to Ann and Sue deliver the commencement address at Scripps College in Claremont, California.

On Rue Tatin

On Rue Tatin: Living and Cooking in a French Town by Susan Hermann Loomis
Nonfiction - Travelogue/Culinary Memoir
Finished on 9/24/07
Rating: 4.5/5 (Terrific!)
Armchair Travel Reading Challenge #2



When I arrived at the train station in Normandy I was met by a tall, thin, harried-looking woman who drove me to her large stone house. We entered a huge courtyard with its sculpted privets and riotous dahlias and I saw the image of all I love in France. Solid and square with graceful proportions, it was a maison bourgeoise, its facade a parade of tall windows each hung with a different antique lace curtain. Geraniums and pansies spilled out of window boxes, an antique bicycle leaned against the wall, the wicker basket on its back fender overflowing with petunias.

Book Description

Susan Loomis arrived in Paris twenty years ago with little more than a student loan and the contents of a suitcase to sustain her. But what began then as an apprenticeship at La Varenne École de Cuisine evolved into a lifelong immersion in French cuisine and culture, culminating in permanent residency in 1994. On Rue Tatin chronicles her journey to an ancient little street in Louviers, one of Normandy’s most picturesque towns.

With lyrical prose and wry candor, Loomis recalls the miraculous restoration that she and her husband performed on the dilapidated convent they chose for their new residence. As its ochre and azure floor tiles emerged, challenges outside the dwelling mounted. From squatters to a surly priest next door, along with a close-knit community wary of outsiders, Loomis tackled the social challenges head-on, through persistent dialogue--and baking.

On Rue Tatin includes delicious recipes that evoke the essence of this region, such as Apple and Thyme Tart, Duck Breast with Cider, and Braised Chicken in White Wine and Mustard. Transporting readers to a world where tradition is cherished, On Rue Tatin provides a touching glimpse of the camaraderie, exquisite food, and simple pleasures of daily life in a truly glorious corner of Normandy.

What a charming book! And, I have absolutely no idea when or where I got it. I suspect the pretty cover enticed me, but I have no recollection of the purchase. Thanks to Lesley's Armchair Traveler Reading Challenge, I picked it out of my nonfiction stack, and am so pleased to have discovered such an entertaining author. It's a wonderfully readable narrative, which pulled me in right from the very beginning, making me long for a trip to France (and a larger kitchen!). Loomis writes with a very conversational voice and I found it easy to envision her home, family and the surrounding village. She's the type of person I'd love to have for a next door neighbor. Imagine the delicious treats and cooking tips shared over a cup of café au lait!

I have several pages marked with sticky notes, but the majority turn out to be references to the town of Louviers. I want to be prepared should I ever get lucky enough to visit this quaint village.

The book is filled with lots of tempting recipes, all of which are preceded by one or two paragraphs describing either the origin of the recipe or why it's one of the author's favorites. Here are just a few mouth-watering examples: Melting Apple Custard, Pear and Honey Clafoutis, and Audrey's Yogurt Cake. I didn't find quite as many to test as I did in Consuming Passions, but I wound up enjoying this delightful book much more so than West's. And, should I ever find myself wondering how in the world to prepare leg of wild boar, I can simply turn to page 202 and follow Loomis' detailed recipe for Rôti de Cuisse de Sanglier. Then again, seeing as how wild boar are a bit scarce in Nebraska, I suppose I can always substitute with a pork shoulder or haunch.

And, of course now I'm tempted to buy everything Loomis has written, starting with Cooking at Home on Rue Tatin and Tarte Tatin.

But even more tempting is to make plans to do this!

The Armchair Traveler Reading Challenge

Better late than never. My bags are packed! Here's my selection for Lesley's The Armchair Traveler Reading Challenge:

True North: Exploring the Great Canadian Wilderness by Bush Plane by George Erickson

A Walk in the Woods: Rediscovering America on the Appalachian Trail by Bill Bryson

The Big House: A Century in the Life of an American Summer House by George Howe Colt

A Garden in Lucca: Finding Paradise in Tuscany by Paul Gervais

On Rue Tatin: Living and Cooking in a French Town by Susan Herrmann Loomis

The Hills of Tuscany: A New Life in an Old Land by Ferenc Máté

French Lessons: Adventures with Knife, Fork and Corkscrew by Peter Mayle

Under the Tuscan Sun: At Home in Italy by Frances Mayes

Bella Tuscany: The Sweet Life in Italy by Frances Mayes

Travels with Charley: In Search of America by John Steinbeck

Here are Lesley's guidelines:

• The challenge runs from July 1 through December 31 during which time you must read six books that fall under the ‘armchair traveling’ theme.
• Fiction or non-fiction works are fine, and do not need to be specifically travel related, as long as the location is integral to the book - I’ll leave that to your discretion. Locations must be actual places that you could visit, so no Middle Earths or galaxies far, far away.
• Books may be cross-posted to other challenges, but you cannot count any books read prior to July 1st.
• To join, make a post outlining your six choices and link to that post below. Because I like to have a little wiggle room, you can opt to switch out books throughout the challenge.
• And yes, there will be prizes

There were several other books in my stacks that I could've chosen, but I decided I wanted to stick as close to "Travel Narratives/Essays" as possible. And, even better, these have all been in my stacks FOREVER! The Steinbeck will be a re-read, but I adored it the first time around, and this gives me a great excuse to read it again.

Thanks for hosting the challenge, Lesley. I love to travel almost as much as I love to read, and this gives me great incentive to pick up some of those books that have been languishing in my stacks for several years.

Note: Isn't it interesting that each and every one of these titles has a subtitle?