GRAND CAFE OCCITAN: RESTAURANT REVIEW

 

We made our way to a new restaurant the other day, up toward the hills past La Liviniere in the small town of Felines-Minervois. None of our party had been there before, but a friend had visited and said that she'd enjoyed it. She's a vegetarian. First clue.

Now don't get me wrong. I have no gripe with those who choose to go meatless. I understand the environmental concerns and I understand the horrors of factory farming. But I also understand that form follows function in the design of tools, in the design of appliances, and in the design of human teeth. Our incisors and canines did not develop over the course of hundreds of thousands of years to rend the flesh of a fresh-caught broccoli. We are omnivores by design, Darwinian design. And I enjoy eating omni.

Enough preamble...

I never went inside the Grand Cafe Occitan. A young lady who would be our server met us at the front door of the nicely pointed old stone house, leading us to a pebble-covered courtyard on the side, shaded by a few trees and suspended reed matting. Mismatched tables and chairs. Paper place mats and napkins. A wine list, but a slate for a menu. French country ambiance.

I started with rillettes de porc - slow cooked, shredded pork with the fat reincorporated to make a kind of paste. Not quite confit but holding to the idea that much of the taste is in the fat that it's cooked in. Three small gherkins accompanied a chunk of rillettes on a small plate. I took my bread from the basket on the table. OK start, mostly because I like rillettes. But certainly not exceptional and totally lacking presentation. (French chefs have spoiled me,) Of the other starts, the salad with the fried. homemade pork-liver sausage was the winner for me, interesting taste for those of us who like that sort of thing.

I was doing fine up to this point. The wine helped. I can highly recommend Chateau Maris rosé.

The three mains took me off the rails. Table mates said that the menu was all about French country cooking. I would be surprised to be served vegetarian cassoulet or skate in a French country kitchen. Cathey enjoyed the skate though, a fish that is sufficiently hard to cook that pleasing Cathey is commendable. Several of us chose the third choice, basically boiled chicken, a leg and a wing floating in a rather plain broth, with potato and leek and onion and an herb pesto. Boiled chicken. Really? French chefs have spoiled me.

The desserts followed the formula, limited choices, familiar faces, the one standout being the ice cream garnished with chunks of fresh figs. Not a drop of chocolate in sight. There's always chocolate. But not here. French chefs have spoiled me.

\Service was attentive and cheerful. The pace of the meal suited our lazy afternoon. I cannot speak to the total price because I didn't see the bill including the wine. But 24€ for three courses is certain;y reasonable.

I'm picking nits. I may have been the only one at the table who was less than enthusiastic. But the drive to Felines-Minervois lasted over 40 minutes and I can count a dozen or more restaurants on the way that I might have preferred. French chefs have spoiled me.

LEFT HANDEDNESS, SPANISH STONEHENGE, TWITTER, AND MORE: #15

 

THE LESSONS OF LEFT HANDEDNESS

Sandy Koufax was my sports hero growing up. I also followed and admired Bill Russell and Johnny Unitas and other big sports names of the time. But Sandy was my hero. To this day, when I'm filling out a ballot and I just don't like any of the names, I write in Sandy Koufax. On the list of the greatest lefties of all time, Sandy rules.

As it happens, I have been married for 50 years to a lefty. She complains occasionally about scissors being designed for right handed folks. But I hadn't thought about it much until I viewed an interesting TED Talk on YouTube. The presenter pointed out that, if you want a small taste of what it's like to be a person of color in the United States, a very small taste, consider the plight of the lefty.

Only 10% of humans are left handed. No one is certain why. A recent major study revealed that there are measurable differences in the brains of lefties, mostly in the right brain, but those difference are so slight that they only appear when studying large data sets. In this case, the researchers studied over 30,000 brain scans, 3,000 of which were of lefties. Even so, the researchers concluded that, not only could they not determine why people are left handed, they also could not predict just from looking at scans whether an individual was left handed or not. So lefties are just like the rest of us, only different.

But here's the kicker. Imagine that you are left handed. It's not just scissors that are designed for righties. Everything is designed for the 90% of us who are right handed. School desks, baseball gloves, guitars, EVERYTHING. Just ask your left-handed friends. Oh, for certain. You can generally buy the item that you are looking for designed especially for the left handed. But you'll pay a premium and there will be fewer choices.

And now imagine that you are a person of color in an increasingly white nationalist USofA. Of course, the system is designed in favor of the majority. That's the way that it works, isn't it? And if you are a white nationalist and looking at the numbers, you are bound to notice that your privileges are about to be revoked. In a right handed world, white nationalists are learning what it might be like to be left handed. And they are scared. And they should be.

RAND PAUL IS AN IDIOT

Senator Paul is quoted as saying that the FBI will have to justify their actions. 

The National Archives asked politely for the documents. The documents were subpoenaed. A lawyer submitted an affidavit representing that all documents had been returned. And still, the FBI found Top Secret documents in Trump's possession. Illegally.

Under those circumstances, the FBI has nothing to justify. But Trump sure as hell does. In court, I hope.

SPANISH STONEHENGE

No one expects the Spanish Stonehenge. (If you immediately thought of Monty Python, give yourself five bonus points. If you don't understand the reference, google 'no one expects the Spanish' and see what pops up.)

Climate change has resulted in severe drought in many regions around the world. Sunken boats resurface in lakes that are drying up. Ghost towns reappear. In a particular dam-created lake in the USofA, several bodies have been located, some in oil drums, clearly murder victims intended to be lost to the light of day forever. In Spain, we have something a bit different.

Thought to be from 4,000 to 7,000 years old, the Dolmen of Guadalperal have been uncovered for the first time in 60 years. First submerged in the 1930s, the result of a Franco rural development project, the standing stones are back in the sunlight. Perhaps a question greater than the purpose of their construction is the question of why it would be considered progress to submerge them in the name of progress in the first place. 

It goes to show that humans are just hairless bipeds with big, useless brains.

TWEETS AS JOURNALISM

I read the news. I have a television, but I just use it for streaming videos and movies. When I lived in the USofA, I watched the evening news on TV. It made me crazy. Now, I am in France. Now, I read the news. I subscribe to a major American newspaper and to a European wire service. I cruise two sites that aggregate news from a variety of sources - from FOX and media even farther to the right, to CNN and others farther left. And I have come to hate Twitter.

Freddy Baseball has been traded to the Yankees. Twitter has exploded. Read some examples.

Sally Popstar's new boyfriend is twenty-three yeas older than she is and the Twitterverse is in a tizzy.

I understand that the proliferation of platforms has led to a scramble for content. But please. Don't pretend that the random typing of my neighbor 's teenage son qualifies as news. It doesn't.

FRENCH MORTGAGE, RAIN, AND BITS AND BOBS: #14

 

 

FRENCH MORTGAGE

Those of you who have been paying attention will know that it has been several months since I last wrote about our mortgage application. At that time, I wrote that we were at the finish line. 

We were not. 

Innumerable twists and turns ensued before the money finally came through. I simply could not keep up. Here are the highlights:

• First met with our banker during the first week of November. By the first week of December, we were told that our request for a loan had been approved. We closed on the new house on December 15th. The loan money arrived on August 2nd of the following year.
• First, the bank called it a mortgage, then a refinance, then a loan.
• First, the banker proposed a 10-year term with life insurance for me. Now it's a 7-year term with life insurance for both of us.
• First, I proposed that the bank finance 38% of the purchase price. The bank agreed to finance 27%.
  
• First did an online medical questionnaire in November. The website didn't like Cathey's phone number for the verification code. Mailed a signed hard copy witnessed by the banker. Then the bank decided in April that the medical questionnaires were too old and had to be resubmitted. Still didn't like Cathey's phone number but her sister's number worked just fine. She called us with the verification code.
• First the bank wanted us to open a 10,000€ savings account maintained to ensure payments. Settled for 25% less, money that we can't touch until the loan is paid off. 

Each of the changes required an exchange of emails and a personal meeting with the banker. I have counted 15 separate email threads.

THE MORAL OF THE STORY: The old adage is true. The best way to obtain a loan is to prove that you don't need it. For American citizens in France, the requirements go a bit further, including making the deal worth the effort for your bank to comply with American and European banking regulations. 

Regardless of the fact that we have submitted French tax returns, in addition to our American ones, for 15 years. Regardless of the fact that we have lived permanently in France for 8 years. And regardless of the fact that we have received our ten-year residency permits, one step below French citizenship, about three years ago. We are still Americans. We must learn patience with French bureaucracy. If you don't learn that patience, living in France won't be nearly as much fun.

RAIN

Did I read recently that the folks who built that ark in Kentucky (or someplace like Kentucky) are suing their insurance company? They want to be paid for water damage. To the ark that they built. From rain. Water damage.

 OPERA SURPRISE

The conductor has led the BBC Philharmonic Orchestra and conducted the Royal Ballet of Covent Garden Orchestra at the Met in New York. The soloists are among the best in France. And for 30€, we'll be attending their performance of Donzinetti's The Elixir of Love in a small theater in a small town a few minutes away. We had no idea when we moved to the rural, politically conservative, ancient region of France, a region that traces human history back to Neanderthals and beyond, that modern players would find venues for music from Bach to the blues anywhere and everywhere that an audience could be called together. What a gift!

 UPDATE: Attended the opera last night. Unfortunately, our heat wave hadn't broken. Fortunately, the venue's tiered seating afforded everyone a clear view of the performance. And the orchestra was tight and confident from the first notes of the overture. And the set was simple but enhanced with occasional, interesting projected animations. And the principal soloists were nationally recognized professionals. And the chorus displayed enthusiasm and discipline.

And I am so grateful to live here.

TRUMP 

There has to come a point of reckoning or else why do we pretend that there is such a thing as the rule of law? You simply can't take stuff out of the Oval Office and stick it in your closet at home if it is classified certain ways or if it belongs in the National Archives. The man overtly puts the Presidential Seal on everything in sight at his resorts and on his golf courses in clear contravention of the law. His other transgressions are so numerous as to defy comprehension by reasonable, rational people. There has to come a point of reckoning.