We enjoyed this salad at a charming little restaurant in the medieval hilltop village of Spello, not far from Assisi. I have now made it for us several times, using the tender fresh arugula & radicchio of springtime in Italy.

~Spello Salad ~
Make this as big as you need:
1/2 is arugula
1/2 is chopped red radicchio
Finely chopped white onion
Chopped walnuts
Small cubes of a strong tasting white cheese
*Dressing: lemon juice, honey, olive oil, salt, pepper
*It is best to mix the lemon juice, honey & olive oil in the bottom of the bowl first

IThe French have a lovely way of turning a meal into a long visit, whether it be lunch or dinner. It is a leisurely way to enjoy each other, catch up on news, and explore thoughts and ideas. It starts with an apperitif; a light drink of some kind, along with olives, nuts, or maybe a sliced veggie. Conversation has begun, and continues as the next courses are brought to the table. No one is in a hurry, and the food comes slowly, accompanied by wine and fresh baguettes of bread; next the salad, then soup, the main dish, the cheese course, the dessert. It is a shared experience, and an intimate way to be together and savor the connection.
Today’s lunch was at the home of our host’s friend. Ginnette was born in this house, as were her father and grandfather, and great grandfather. She is the first female in her family to have ownership of the property. She had moved away to live in Paris as a young woman, but returned 20 years ago to live again where she was born. She showed us the beautiful bedroom where she slept as a child, and the ones where her parents, and her sisters slept. She kindly invited us to climb the stairs to the attic, where we could see a secret bedroom, and the crooked old beams of the roof. The home was charmingly furnished and decorated with family heirlooms, hundreds of years old. The large bread oven had been mostly dismantled, but the arched stone opening of the oven now served as passage out to a garden. The long handled wooden spatula for handling bread loaves was hanging over the door.

Over time and generations, multiple additions have given the blue-shuttered stone house an enchanted look, with rooflines and rooms wandering wherever one could add another room, nook, or pigeonaire, all built of stone, all covered in slate roof tiles. The house eventually became two houses, connected via courtyards and vine-covered barns and passageways. Outside are gardens, patios and fruit trees and lots and lots of green grass, all looking out to distant views of rolling hills and meadows and forests.

We sat together at her family table beside the massive stone fireplace, for four hours; eating, drinking, and enjoying each other’s company, and the ambiance of her beautiful family home. After a tour of the gardens outside, and more stories, it was time to say “Merci beaucoup” and then “Au revoir.”

We decided to treat ourselves to our first real restaurant meal of this trip. So I called yesterday to make the reservation and let her know that we are vegetarian. We’ve walked by this restaurant near the bridge many times, and it’s humble appearance did not shout out to us how utterely lovely it was. This is typical of France, it seems to me. The elegance here is classy, comfortable and understated. And the proprietor was also pure class, efficiently and gracefully orchestrating the small 10 table dining room all herself, her “musicians” preparing plates of delight behind closed doors of the kitchen. We started with apperitif drinks, champayne with orange liquor for Dave, and a light sparkling white wine for me. Our next course, served with a rich red wine, was beautiful small salads served with goat cheese melted over rounds of thinly sliced bread, and a dash of basil oil. The main course was dreamy creamy potato gratin served with an equally divine selection of mixed veggies, cut and herb spiced, alongside a golden veggie sauce. The flavors were delicate and indescribable. Dessert came with tiny coffee-cremes…chocolate tart, and apple caramel pastry, which I also cannot adequately describe. We so enjoyed our time there, an hour and 1/2 of relaxing pleasure, and our “music” was the soft babbling brook sound of the other diners quietly chatting in their beautiful sensual French, almost none of which we can understand.

After lunch, we walked around the medieval village in the cool misty afternoon, then went home and took naps.

Try going somewhere with a language you don’t understand. It’s a marvelous way to live life and escape the barrage of overheard conversations going on in the USA right now!

Yesterday we drove a few miles away to shop at the marche at the foot of the ancient village of Cordes. I forgot my camera but used my cell phone to the best of my ability.

We did a quick bit of shopping then climbed the hill to enjoy the views and picturesque setting of such a lovely, old, and still functioning village.

Yes, we see other tourists here, many visiting from the UK, but these villages are lived in and support traditional life of locals who have grown up here.

Ahhhh…looking across the French countryside from the top of the village…

It has not taken us long to discover that we were missing an important element to our food forays. Therefore our picnique supplies now include a new Opinel, a traditional French knife, great for cutting our bread, cheese, and apples! This one has an upgraded quality of wood handle, for Dave to enjoy.

Today we got an early start to the weekly marche in our own village. Pictures tell the story. I am getting over my fear of photographing the beautiful and interesting people I see, and more able to ask them in French if I can take their photo. So far, they have said “Oui”

France has a reputation for it’s glorious food. It starts with wonderful soil and farming technigues, and a respect for the whole food itself. We have been so happy to be buying our food from the local market, or at the once-a-week marches, the outdoor farmers markets set up in a prominent square or street in the village. Locally, one could attend an outdoor marche every day of the week, by visiting nearby small villages. We see some of the same vendors over the years, like the olive guy, or the lady who makes delicious thick spinach pancakes.

We are so enjoying cooking at home  and sometimes packing a simple picnic to eat elsewhere. The other early eve we set out down the road to look for a nice spot to eat; the stones steps of a vacant old home, a churchyard, or…? We ended up at a small park, with a pond and picnic tables. The meal, sandwiches from cheese, organic lettuce, tomatoes, mayo on homemade bread, wine, goat cheese, radishes and pickled garlic, was consumed with gusto:

Afterwards, we wandered the medieval village that was perched on the hill above the park. The light was fading and the village was radiant with mystery and history:

 Then it was near the end of another lovely day in France, and we headed towards home…and stepping outside just before bed, we viewed a dark sky so very full of the Milky Way. Nous sommes en France. Oui, c’est bon!

In Paris, I love the organic Marche on Boulevard Raspail on Sundays! One can find all sorts of delicious tarts and cheeses and organic veggies!