Sunday, June 8, 2013
Caunes-Minervois

          I has been raining all weekend, inclusive of today, Sunday.  It's a bit cold, so I sleep with an extra t-shirt under my nightgown, but bearable.  The hot shower feels good, though, I must admit.

          Luis, Judith and I had plans to go to the vide grenier-- "the attic-emptying" in the auditorium near the City Hall, the mairie.  We make our progress around the semi-circle of vendors outside, who are braving the rains.  It is not clear how the market is organized, only that everyone seems to set up where they want to, there being more space than vendors.  Nonetheless, outside I pick up a nice book about the cooking of Burgundy, with photos and receipts for 2 Euros.  It is a library book that was never returned.  Such are the sorts of things to be found at a vide grenier.  I also find, for 5 Euros, a pair of Steampunk pants, teal khaki with embroidered script lettering, brown leather bindings on pockets, front zippers, the sort of thing Mad Max might wear.

         Inside, the offerings are many more, although the auditorium is by no means filled to capacity.  One of the vendors, perhaps an electrician, has a collection of old porcelain wiring stubs from the advent of electricity, along with fuse boxes and and more modern fluorescent units.  This being France, off to the side there is a well-patronized stand selling wine, coffee and croissants, all for less than 2 Euros each.  The vide grenier's vendors do not look like locals, more like Roma.  One man, who bears a passing resemblance to Rasputin, wears a vertically striped bathrobe with purple and navy blue stripes over his dark shirt and jeans.  He is tall enough that from far away it might look like a pasha's dressing gown, but there is no disguising it is a bathrobe when viewed from a few feet away: perhaps it was what he thought would be warm to wear on such a wet day.

          Another man, older, with a large face, longish blond hair that has turned grey that suggests he might be of Norman origin, so Viking are his features, is selling old leather-bound volumes of the collected works of Alfred de Musset, de Vigny, Aubreville and others, as 20 Euros a volume.  "They belonged to my family",  is all he says.  Unfortunately, I cannot help him, although they are in good condition, their red and blue leather bindings, fresh and gorgeous, despite their age.

          A woman and her daughter working at a table in the middle of the room are offering 3 pieces for 2 Euros for any clothes from two large plastic tubs.  Rifling through the tubs below her table I find two densely-woven cotton sweater and a long shirt with the red and orange stripes popular in the Midi, as the South  is called.  With the weather still inclement and cool, being able to take home warmer clothes than I brought for so little, is a godsend, particularly as clothes in France of any quality are quite a bit more money than anywhere in the United States.

          Judith also having found pieces she can use, and Luis having bought nothing but willingly helping with the transport home of the plastic bags, we make our way out.  As we leave, we pass a group of stocky men wearing official vide grenier shirt designed like rugby polos, smoking black Turkish tobacco.  The earthy perfume is more pleasant than that of more expensive, blond cigarettes, but still, I can't help being reminded that smoking is still accepted in France, whereas in the New York City in particular, it is practically to be a pariah to put a smoke to one's lips.

          We drop our finds at the house and leave in search of lunch.  La Table d'Emilie, on rue Minervois, opened three weeks ago and has distinguished itself as the best restaurant in Caunes, although its prices are  moderate.  It is open, and as it is now late in the lunch service, we find a table easily.

          La Table d'Emilie is named after Emily, the dark-haired, seven-year old daughter of Wendy, a young Englishwoman, divorced, who came hear alone on holiday and decided to stay.  Starting with a catering business, she bought the space where the restaurant stands and converted it into a small, impeccable restaurant open from nine to six.  Today's prix fixe lunch offers either a variety of sauteed fresh mushrooms or a tomato salad with basil as starters, to be followed by either turkey on a bed of pasta or a millefeuille anglais: a potato cake on top of which a pork burger is layered, then topped with a fried egg.  All three of us opt for the millefeuille and we have no regrets.  Desserts include a small hot chocoloate muffin filled with melted bittersweet chocolate, a lemon posset, and a treacle tart, plus coffees.  The total bill: 75 Euros, or $100 USD for three, inclusive of a pichet (about a liter) of a purplish-red wine that goes down very smoothly.

          Yesterday, at the Intermarché, the super-store,I bought a digital scale that records my weight in kilos as well as pounds, but I cannot bear to step on it yet.