COST OF LIVING IN FRANCE: PART 2 - GROCERIES

 

FOOD, GLORIOUS FOOD

It's France that we are talking about, after all. That I put HOUSING and TRANSPORTATION ahead of FOOD may seem evidence of mistaken priorities, but I assure you that I have a full appreciation of the various forms and flavors of cuisine that I have enjoyed here. Cathey is a talented multi-cultural cook with a well-stocked pantry. Even with the sacrifice of piles of cookbooks and magazines left behind during our move across the Pond, her bookcase today in the pantry behind the kitchen grows and overflows, And we dine at the houses of friends who are equally talented in the kitchen. Everyone has access to fresh ingredients, mostly sourced locally. When we dine out, we have been here long enough to know where to find good bar food, comfortable mid-range restaurants, fine dining, and unique experiences. Let's see if I can make it all sound as good as it really is.

I don't mean to come across as starry eyed, though. Life ain't all strawberries and champagne. (I knew that was bad wording as soon as I typed it. It's strawberry season, for one. French strawberries are as sweet as candy and available at peak for a very short time. Like right now. And the wine...) Anyway, below you will find aspects of grocery shopping in France that are less than ideal. We'll start with that and move on from there.

GROCERY SHOPPING

Shopping for groceries in France is the same as in the States, except when it's different. No fresh corn tortillas. Nearly every supermarket carries that El Paso brand stuff and people have said that they have dined in authentic Tex-Mex restaurants in the region. Maybe so, but they don't buy their corn tortillas at the super. Karo Syrup requires a substitute unless your sister brings a jug in her suitcase...like she brings the tortillas. Every supermarket has a bakery, but none of them bake bagels. There are shops that say that they bake bagels but they don't even make an approximation of a bagel. Just toroidal-shaped brioche.

The point is that there are specific food items that are just not available, or are only available in certain places under certain circumstances. That having been said, there are no really vital dietary components missing from the shelves and for those that are hard to find, there are workarounds.

Meanwhile, your grocery shopping choices here in the south of France are practically limitless given that our village is within 25 minutes from the urban center of one city of about 50,000 and a second of 75,000. You'll find hypermarkets, supermarkets, specialty markets, village shops, butcher shops, bakeries, ethnic grocers, farmers markets, roadside stands and more. Take your pick. Get panko at the Asia Market, pita in the Arab quarter (if you don't make it at home), and fresh spring rolls from the food truck in the Sunday market.

And remember, the French demand information. Is the product organic? What's the country of origin? What's the price per kilo? Stuff that you'd like to know but that's not readily available in the USofA.

During COVID, there were folks who never left our little village. We have a bakery, two butcher shops, a convenience-sized store that's affiliated with one of the supers, and a tabac that sells fruits and veggies, milk and other essentials. (Tabacs are stores licensed to sell tobacco and cigarettes. They usually sell newspapers and magazines., postcards, and sundry other stuff at the whim of the owners.) So we are fairly well self sufficient. But let's get down to prices.

It's hard for me, ten years out from our move, to have a true understanding of the difference in the cost of groceries between the USofA and France. Cathey's sister Connie lives in Houston and provides commentary, though. There's a chain here called Grand Frais that specializes in fresh fruits and veggies, high-end meats and cheeses and seafood, as well as imported specialty items. Connie says that a bag of veggies that might cost the equivalent of 30 or 40USD in Grand Frais would come to well over 100USD in Houston.

The baguette at the bakery 100 yards away, fresh baked and warm, costs a few pennies over 1.00USD. Leaf lettuce, dense and full, might be 1.25USD a head, less in season. And here might be a good time to talk about seasonal eating. The Mediterranean climate allows for a long growing season. We are in easy reach of the gardens of Spain and Italy and Greece. And North Africa is a quick ferry ride away. So while we are particularly fond of those items that are in season outside our back door, most fruits and veggies are in season somewhere close by, not a continent away, and grown for their taste and not their ability to survive shipping. 

From the weekly circulars of a couple of our favorite supers:

Tomatoes - 1.50USD/pound

Yellow Onions - .35USD/pound 

Cucumbers - .50USD/pound

Shallots - 1.00USD/pound

Boneless Pork Loin - 3.00USD/pound

Chicken Thighs - 1.75USD/pound

We're not impressed with French beef, grass fed and almost game meat. Not marbled at all. I just purchased a pound of ground beef from the local butcher, put in the hopper in front of me, and had to request that fat be added. The best beef is imported from the UK or Ireland, readily available and not terribly expensive in comparison to the USofA. On the other hand, lamb and pork are to die for and cheap as chips in comparison.

Other stuff that you buy at a supermarket might be a tad more expensive, but not always comparable in quality, although strides are being made. We no longer require travelers to bring us zip-lock bags. The plastic wrap has improved considerably. But aluminum foil still needs work.

Of course, the grocery stores sell beer and wine, but we usually buy our wine direct from the producers. We seldom pay more than 8.00USD for a bottle of fine sipping rosé, 10.00USD for fine whites, 15.00USD for a serious red. Beer is beer from 3.00USD for local commercial brew to 8.00USD for a good craft beer. I generally don't drink alcohol during the day, depending on 2 liter bottles of low-glucide fruit drink at 1.00USD a bottle.

Enough. You get the picture. Yes, there are street markets that generally have fresher, more locally produced fare - meats, cheeses, fruits and veggies, baked goods and the like. Not always cheaper, though. All in all, I stand by my earlier statement: A couple can retire comfortably in France on two average Social Security Retirement checks.

Next in the series: RESTAURANTS AND CULTURE

WINE TASTING FOR PLEBS

I don't know a darn thing about wine. So I warn you. Don't listen to a word that I say. Why? I'm an American, born in the Northeast USofA, not exactly a hotbed of boutique wine making even today when the folks in places like the Finger Lakes of upstate New York have been trying to establish their creds for generations. All that I knew of wine as I was growing up came from my experiences with my grandmother's concord grape wine. Oddly enough, straight out of the barrel in the basement it wasn't too sweet. If you liked sweet wine, though, Nana didn't mind. She'd just add a dab of maple syrup to the carafe and shake it a bit.

See what I mean? Don't listen to a word that I say.

Like many of my fellow English-speaking expats, I have come to enjoy sampling the great variety of wines available to us in here Occitanie. We live in the midst of a terroir that is transforming itself from a region known for sheer quantity to a region dotted  with an ever-increasing cohort of quality producers of light and sunny rosés, clean and subtle whites, and hearty and complex reds. Signs dot every two-lane blacktop directing travelers to domaines with wine for tasting and for sale, often along with olive oil, honey, saffron, or other bounty of this ancient land.

We all have our favorites, from affordable but reliable standards to bottles laid in for special company. Domaine Pain de Sucre, with vineyards just down the road from us along the Canal du Midi, supplies us with an inexpensive rosé that has sweetened our sunny summer afternoons ever since we moved here.full-time several years ago. Laurent Miquel's Cazal Viel estate, another early discovery located between Cazouls-les-Beziers and Cessenon-sur-Orb, produces a range of viognier and chardonnay-viognier to suit any taste. And we're learning to navigate the reds, sampling and/or laying down bottles from Domaine de Pech-Ménel, Domaine Moulin Gimie, and Domaine Saint-Georges d'Ibry among several others.

Early on, we discovered vrac, bulk wine. Our English-speaking friends know of it. But our French friends are the ones more likely to buy it. After several years standing in line, waiting to get my hands on the stainless steel hose from which pours that cheap product in bulk like petrol into the tank, I can scarcely remember hearing English spoken. (Yes, I said petrol. Life among British expats...) I can't think why not. After a pleasant evening of sips and nibbles, and more sips and nibbles, and an extra sip or two, when all of the chilled bottles of rosé in the fridge have met their maker, we have on occasion been forced to pour from an unlabeled bottle of local vrac. No one has seemed to mind, although at the point that we bring it out, taste buds have already been dulled beyond repair. Of course, 95% of the time, our guests don't get anywhere near vrac rosé. But it's what we drink for dinner when we're by ourselves. And for us, it works.

Does this mean that we cannot discriminate one wine from another? Pas de tout! Three of the local cooperatifs offer vrac at prices averaging about €1.50 per liter, the caves in Capestang, Cebezan, and Argeliers. We periodically sample each in turn to check out which pleases our naive palates best at the present moment. Our current choice is Argeliers. We have a sneaking suspicion that the taste is dependent on how carefully they separate the snails from the grapes as they are unloaded. But they're not talking and we're not asking. 

So there you have it. 10 liters at a time for €15. Ah, France. Ya gotta love it.

 

LISA SIMONE: CONCERT REVIEW

Music in the vines...

Billed as a private party, we joined about 200 lucky souls who spent a most pleasant summer evening on the grounds of Mas de Daumas Gassac, one of France's most unique wineries. We nibbled a variety of hors d'oeuvres, drank as much wine as we thought prudent, enjoyed bits of salmon and herb-encrusted tuna from the plancha, dressed rounds of bread with freshly sliced ham and aioli, gathered around cheese boards that were at least two meters long, and if that wasn't enough, spent an hour and a half or so listening to Lisa Simone both being herself and channeling her mother Nina.

First, a word about Mas de Daumas Gassac. You can read the history HERE. It's the story of a family that just wanted to produce the best wine possible without regard to the rules of French classification. Matching great vines from other areas of France to their impeccable terroir, they proved that the Languedoc was capable of producing wine that challenges the greatest vintages of the rest of the country. If that meant that their wine had to be labelled vin de table or vin de pays, so be it. They would simply produce the best wine that they could produce and let taste decide its worth. As a result of their dedication to craft, their winery is a destination for wine lovers from around the world, offering bottles ranging from under 10€ to over 40€ and more.   

Given that their dedicated following has lifted up Mas de Daumas Gassac perhaps beyond expectation, it's fitting that the Guibert family has decided to provide their friends with something special in return. We were fortunate to have discovered the concert on Lisa Simone's website and knew the venue. We arrived just after 8pm and enjoyed what was billed as a cocktail dinner until the sky darkened. The ropes dropped, we found our seats, and the concert began with an intro from one of the Guibert boys. The musicians came out one at a time, giving us a sample of their individual skills, and then came Lisa.

"Vous etes vous," shouted one of our neighbors in the audience as Lisa talked about her mother. (You are you!) But although Lisa displayed due deference to the memory of her mother, covering Leonard Cohen's Suzanne as her mother did and closing with a rousing rendition of Nina's classic The Work Song, Lisa was Lisa. She's basically a pop singer with a strong voice that contains overtones of blues and folk along with jazz. She plays no instrument but she plays the audience, and does it well, at one point coming down from the stage and roaming up and down the aisles, shaking hands while singing.

Her backing trio displayed their talents individually at various times during the show - an amplified acoustic guitar player, a bassist who played both electric and upright bass, and a drummer with an electric smile and a facility with the variety of rhythms in Lisa's songbook.

In sum,if you have the opportunity to see Lisa Simone, don't delay. She's a treasure.

Not a bad seat in the house, if you don't mind plastic...

Men in blazers and men in shorts, ladies in Capri pants and cocktail dresses...

Fish on the plancha...

Ham like you can't often find in France...

Nothing flashy, just the music...

Into the audience...

Yes, a bit of her mother in that face...

More about our life in France, including concert revues, HERE and HERE.

VINS I LICORS GRAU: LARGEST WINE BOUTIQUE IN EUROPE

One of the regular sporting activities that those of us living in the south of France enjoy is the semi-annual Run to Spain. Most everybody takes part. It's not a track meet, though. It's a shopping run. We go because some items are cheaper in Spain, substantially so. (I buy Cathey's favorite perfume there because it sells for less than in the duty-free shops, much less than in the local French parfumerie. But don't tell Cathey that. It'll be our little secret.) Some items simply are not available locally - a reasonable selection of Spanish wines, a bottle of brandy to feed the Christmas cake. And so, off we go Spain.

Just across the border sits La Jonquera, a small Catalonian town whose name is now attached to a massive array of opportunities to spend euros - department stores and specialty shops, garden centers, liquor stores, tobacconists, groceries and butchers. You want it? You can buy it somewhere along the main drag heading south out of the old town.

We usually make our winter run into Spain after resting up from Thanksgiving but before Christmas craziness hits La Jonquera full force. We decided to fly past the outlets first this time and head farther south, just east of Girona, to Palafrugell, a small town on the Costa Brava that has the distinction of being home to the largest wine boutique in Europe, vins i licors Grau.

Grau is family-owned, founded in 1951 by Miquel Grau i Lluís as a tavern and wine cellar delivering bulk wine. Children and grandchildren have joined the business, moving and building and expanding to the massive enterprise that it is today. To give you an idea of the size of the establishment, imagine the biggest liquor store in Texas. It's called Spec's. The flagship store is in Houston. Grau is twice as big.

The feature is the wine. Shelves and shelves and shelves of Spanish wine. Liz was so overwhelmed by the opportunity to purchase fine reds of every stripe that she flat forgot to check out the whites and rosés. A wall of dry sherries backed by a wall of sweet. Champagne and cognac and liqueurs and more. And let's not forget the liquor. Every stupid flavor of vodka that Absolut produces. Fine scotch. Small batch whiskey. A playground for the discriminating purchaser of hooch imported from around the world.

One caution. If you are looking for a run-of-the-mill spirit, that bottle of Torres brandy not for drinking but for spicing up holiday baked goods, the groceries at La Jonquera are actually cheaper. The same goes for lesser bourbons like Four Roses. But Grau can't be beat for its selection of wines and for the broad range of fine sippin' whiskey on the shelves.

The corporate website HERE tells the whole story with better pictures than the ones that I've attached below. To visit their online catalogue - not by any means a complete listing of what is available at the store - click HERE.

To learn more about our adventures in France, from walking tours to observations on life as an expat, click HERE.

WINE PAIRINGS: OLD RULES - NEW RULES

Let me be clear from the beginning, I am not a connoisseur. Of anything. I have opinions. I provide them to you for free. You'll have to decide their worth.

We live in the south of France, once Languedoc-Roussillon, now Occitanie. A friend calls our region the largest vineyard in the world. It is precisely that, the largest single wine-producing region in the known universe.  Seven times Napa Valley. Three times Bordeaux. More wine produced than in the entire USofA. So even if you are a friend of Bill, it's hard not to absorb a modicum of knowledge concerning the ancient art of vinification, if only through osmosis.

(For those not familiar with the term, being a friend of Bill means that you have forsworn alcoholic beverage in the manner of Bill W., a founder of Alcoholics Anonymous.)

Anyone can drink wine, of course. The trick would seem to be to pair wine appropriately with the food being served. Articles and websites and books that discuss the rules for pairing wine with food abound. In the end, I have discovered that there are really only two overarching rules.

RULE #1 Conventional Wisdom. Proper pairings have been determined by general consensus over many years. Check out the chart below courtesy of Food & Wine through Wine Folly.

And you thought that the rule was simply Red = Meat, White = Fish. No, my friend. Life is too short and the wine trade is too lucrative. There are rules. You must follow the rules.

RULE #2 There Are No Rules. What sharp eyes you have. Yes, Rule #2 directly contradicts Rule #1. If a vintner can age rosé in oak to give it the kick of a light red, rules no longer apply. Drink what you like with foods that you like. Wear stripes with plaid. It's a new world.

Speaking of New Worlds, have you been to California recently? If you like charts like the one above, check out this one compliments of Leafly:

OK. Pick your jaw up off the floor. Yes, recreational marijuana is now legal in California. In a state known for both its wine and its pot (even before legalization), should we be surprised that Wine/Weed tastings are now a thing in the Golden State? How about starting the day at a pot dispensary stocking up on smoke (at your own expense), then taking a bus to two different wineries to try out wine/weed combinations, then finishing up back at the dispensary just in case you didn't choose wisely the first time? All for under $200...plus the pot.

I am old. Acapulco Gold is not on the pairings list. Too retro even for California.

Should this be archived on my FOOD AND RESTAURANT REVIEW PAGE or my FRANCE PAGE? I'll decide later.

THREE YEARS IN FRANCE - AN AMERICAN EXPAT'S REFLECTIONS

Have you wondered what it might be like to pick up and move to another country? Americans are lured to retirement havens in Mexico, Costa Rica, or Panama. They say that Eastern Europe is beautiful, safer than the evening news might suggest, and relatively inexpensive. Southeast Asia is hot, but it's cheap. Remember, though. I'm not talking about investigating a vacation home, time share, or other form of shared ownership. I'm talking about a permanent, sell out and ship the furniture sort of  move. For most Americans, the thought has never crossed their minds.

Think about it. Think about moving from one state to another, from one town to another, even from one neighborhood across town. Add the need to learn a new language - if you aren't multilingual already. Add the need to deal in a new currency and the need to learn the ins and outs of currency exchange. Add metric measurements. And a new healthcare system. And a new bureaucracy to navigate.

Daunting? You betcha!

Rewards? You betcha!

We  have moved to the Languedoc in the  south of France, the largest vineyard in the world, producing one-third of all French wine and more wine than is produced in all of the United States. Drive down any road and signs for local wineries abound. In three years, we have not visited one-tenth of the tasting rooms within an hour's drive. Our new favorite rosé comes from a domain just down the road. Sweet and fresh and four euros (about $4.50) a bottle!

Along with the wine comes the food. We eat seasonally, veggies and fruits from local farms as much as possible. Grown for taste, not for the ability to be shipped across a continent. Do you remember the kids licking the wallpaper in Wilder's Willie Wonka? "The snozzberries taste like snozzberries!" I say that a lot. And you haven't really tasted a strawberry until you've had one fresh from Fanny's farm. (Fanny has a stand in our market square every Wednesday and Saturday and only sells her own produce. When strawberries are in season, best stop by early or you'll miss out.)

OK. French beef sucks. Range fed, not from from a feedlot. So almost game meat. But the lamb and the duck and the pork and the poultry...magnifique.

The Impressionists painted here for a reason. The light here seems to emanate from the landscape, not reflect off it. The scenery can be breathtaking. On our ride to the nearest supermarket, on a clear day you can see the Pyrenees over 100 kilometers away. Nearly every geography known to man is at hand...except desert. And North Africa is just a ferry ride away.

It's not all sunshine and lemonade, though. French bureaucracy can be frustrating in the extreme. They've had centuries to refine it. Although the winding, two-lane blacktops between villages are generally well-maintained, they also carry slow-moving tractors, wide-bodied recreational vehicles, and bicyclists in packs. Passing can be a hair-raising experience. And whether you like it or not, you still have to vacuum and do laundry.

But the rewards exceed the inconveniences. Perhaps the greatest reward involves being insulated from what's going on in the United States at this very moment - the seemingly intractable discussion on how to deliver quality healthcare to the greatest number of Americans possible. Viewed from the outside, it is a painful discussion to witness. Viewed from France, the discussion is incomprehensible. What could possibly be the problem with providing universal healthcare? Let's look at the objections that I've heard from my friends in the US.

Americans have the right to decline healthcare coverage. Not if the cost of their care when they do get sick is added to my healthcare bill, they don't. Not if the cost of their absentee days at work is added to the cost of the products that I buy or the services that I need, they don't. It's true that Americans have the right to be stupid. Just not at my expense. I'd rather participate in paying for the health of stupid people than paying for the costs of their illnesses.

Doctors will leave if you control their fees. We live in a rural village of about 1,500 people. We  have a fine GP and there are several GPs practicing in the next village over just a few kilometers away. We have had no trouble making appointments with all sorts of specialists - rheumatologist, ophthalmologist, podiatrist, surgeon. If there's a shortage, we don't see it. And because our GP's fees are controlled, she doesn't employ a receptionist or nurse. She answers the phone and schedules her appointments. Herself. Walks into the waiting room and invites us back to the examination room. Herself. Takes our blood pressure. Herself. Apparently, it's not a big deal. UPDATE: Our doctor has hired a part-time secretary to answer the phone and make appointments. Perhaps the 2€ increase awarded to GPs recently helped.

Healthcare will be rationed. A good friend has been treated for two cancers, her husband has just had two stents placed and is scheduled for coronary valve repair/replacement. Their combined age is over 150 years. We've never had to wait unduly for treatment, never been denied treatment, and we don't know anyone who has been. Insurance companies ration healthcare, not the French. (I know. You've read about Trump and the Pope and the baby on life support. You may disagree with the European Court's decision that keeping an infant of life support when his rare genetic disease offers no hope of a recovery and amounts to cruelty, but the issue was never cost of care.)

Pharmaceutical companies will stop doing R&D if you control prices. Take away their marketing budgets and their lobbying budgets and there's your research money. Nine of the ten top US pharmas spend more annually on marketing than on developing new drugs.

The system is unsustainable financially. Healthcare in France is not free. We pay a percentage of our worldwide income for coverage in the French single-payer system, a fair percentage in my opinion. Each year, our tax returns are used to calculate our payment for the following year. (We pay income taxes to the US and the French get a copy that is submitted along with our French return. By treaty, because we pay the US income tax, we don't pay income tax France. But we do pay the 'social charge' that gets us our healthcare.)

Insurance companies will go out of business. Some of the largest insurers in the world are based in Europe. The French single-payer system takes care of from 60% to 75% of the average cost of care. You can pay the rest out of pocket. But must folks buy supplemental insurance. We have purchased insurance that covers the costs of a hospitalization only and we had many insurers to choose from. UPDATE: Working with our bank - which is more like a credit union because we have to buy shares in order to open an account - we now have more comprehensive 'top up' insurance that will pay for 100% of scripts, doctors, and most other related healthcare items for the same price as our previous hospitalization-only policy. We'll see how well that works.

So I guess that the Constitution really IS a suicide pact. Because the only reason not to go to Medicare For All is to preserve the 'free market' in health care that leads to lower life expectancy, greater infant mortality, and greater child mortality. God forbid that we should value the lives of babies and children over the for-profit healthcare system that costs us twice as much per capita as the French system, shortens our lives, and kills our children.

Let me be clear. We love America. We were fortunate to have been born in such a place and at such a time when plain folks like us could make the decision to live anywhere in the world that suited us. So we chose a place where the weather is kind to our aging bones, where there are new places to explore, new people to meet. Why shouldn't we? Proud Americans can and should live where they choose.

But being proud Americans doesn't mean that our vision isn't clear, that we don't want the best for our country and its people. That's what America does, creates the best way to do things or adopts a better way if shown. That's what has made America strong and that's what can keep America strong.

As a post that falls into a couple of different categories, you can read more about my political views HERE and more about my thoughts about life in France HERE.

VENDANGE IN THE LANGUEDOC: A MORE COMPREHENSIVE VIEW

For more pictures of the vendange and a bit of history and statistical info, click over to my FRANCE PAGE.

LA VENDANGE: GRAPE HARVEST TIME

The very air is electric. Every morning, you awake expecting to hear the sounds, smell the smells, feel the stickiness, get bitten by the yellow jackets, get stacked up in traffic, and in general curse up one side and down the other of that best/worst of times, the vendange. 

As summer ends and fall approaches, the vintners begin to go to their vineyards earlier and earlier in the morning. The first grapes that are ready to be harvested are the whites, the chardonnay. If you know your local viticulture, you may even be able to predict which vineyards will be ready first. But in short order, everyone will know. 

The vintner decides. The big, honking mechanical harvesters hit the road. Cars and trucks jam the verges of the vineyards that are to be hand picked. Tractors with trailers that are numbered to identify to which section of which vineyard their contents belong make their stately way to the co-ops, leaving trails of grape juice at every curve along the two-lane blacktops that they travel. They dump their loads and they go back for more. And if you have to be anywhere during the vendange, you'd better add a half hour to your travel time. At the end of the day, the tractors bring their trailers to washing stations. The gutters run with more of the juice, keeping the ready supply of buzzing, biting insects happy.

And who knew that grapes in bulk could smell that strongly from that far away?

But it's worth it. It's worth the trouble. Because soon, not too soon but soon, we'll be sitting on the terrace. enjoying the sun, eating the cheese, and drinking the end result, the wine.

It's the south of France. Life is good...