Walking

When it comes to weather, Burgundy is in that tricky time of year. The sun has been rising bright and cheerful each morning, and lingers in the evening sky, covering the landscape in pinks and oranges. From inside the house, it is easy to think it is shorts and t-shirt weather. But it is still winter, and there is frost on the windshield most mornings before eventually heating up. Yesterday, we experienced a 68 degree temperature swing in under 10 hours. Regardless, after the cold we had in January and February, it is most definitively hiking season. In the past few days I have climbed up logging roads, down narrow woods trails, scaled rock faces, and, of course, walked trough some of the most famous vines in the world.

As noted in a previous post, French people like to brag about the diversity of their geography. As un-noted elsewhere, it can be extraordinarily annoying for an American to concede that the French are right. The problem isn't with the substance, it is just that they are always so blasé when you tell them they are right. "Beh, oui," they say, shrugging off any compliment you pay to them about their food, history, traditions, landscapes, wines, or architecture. It is as if you have just told them that the Sahara can be hot and dry.

Saint Vincent Take Two

As the police officer walked away from me I said, "I'll see you later, Monsieur le Gendarme." 

He gave a hearty laugh and I told him not to worry, I had taken the train to the 71st Saint Vincent Tournante festival. This year's version of the celebration of the patron saint of winemakers was held in Vougeout and Gilly-les-Citeaux, the former known for, well, one of the most famous wines in Burgundy, and the latter for being next to the former. 

We had been to the 70th version of the event last year in Saint Aubin and 365 days in Burgundy had taught us an important lesson: LEAVE THE KIDS AT HOME WHEN YOU GO TO A WINE FESTIVAL. We hired a babysitter, put on eight layers of clothing, drove to Beaune, ditched the car, and got on the 11:33 train to Vougeout. As the mass of humanity boarded, one girl already in the train said, "What's going on? I take this train every Saturday and I've never seen so many people." Burgundy wine festivals will do that.

Upon arriving, we purchased our pack de dégustation, which included a commemorative glass and its carrier, a map, and seven tickets for different tastings. Our first stop was for a grand cru red, made exclusively from Pinot noir grapes. The local winemakers had pooled their supply for this unique event, creating an assemblage of different grand cru wines that would only be available for this weekend. On Monday, it would be impossible to find this particular wine ever again. The man pouring it gestured to the falling snow and said, "Try to warm it up with your hands."

The weather had made this the opposite of the ideal tasting conditions. Instead of a controlled environment, the wind was bitingly brisk, and all the wines were served al fresco, far from their optimal temperatures. The air was crowded with odors competing for the wine's aromas: roasting hams, cigarette smoke, melted cheese, French fries, and more than enough BO to go around. We cupped our glasses in our hands, trying to warm it, but the effort was wasted. It was like defrosting a snowy windshield with your breath. And yet, that first wine...well it was magic.

Délissime

In a place where thousand-year-old churches dominate villages, where there are theme parks dedicated to Gallo-Roman history, where towers are labeled “12^th Century,” and people still discuss the Dukes of Burgundy, finding something “new” isn’t always easy.

In Dijon, however, a new food festival has taken root. Délissime marked its second year in the capital of Burgundy in March 2014. Housed in the Parc des Expositions, right off the tram line, it is a celebration of all things culinary.

Spicy

Taking place over three days, visitors can dip their toes into the warm waters of French gastronomy and viniculture. Armed with a tasting glass, the entrant can voyage around more than 80 stalls offering food delights from Burgundy and other parts of France. There are specialties of the southwest (duck legs, duck breasts, duck in duck fat, duck bolognese, the inside bits of duck, including duck hearts, duck gizzards, duck liver) and the sea (ocean beans, fish soups with their accompanying jars of bright orange rouille). A woman hawks spices from around the world, from Hawaiian black salt to smoky paprika. The Provencal vendor offers forth bites of Camargue beef.

Duck fifty ways

The assault on the palate inevitably leads to a craving for drink. Happily, event organizers have anticipated your need and invited winemakers from Provence, Alsace, the Loire Valley, and, of course, Burgundy to help slack your thirst.

The organizers have also taken a few chances. In the middle of prideful Dijon, a gastronomic city, an Italian vendor is peddling his specialties. Here is mortadella big around as a telephone pole. There is porchetta cut straight from a pig laid out on the table, golden and delicious, with a knife standing at attention in its back.

Italians love pig as much as the French do

Though obviously still getting its legs (the festival was poorly advertised and far from "crowded"), and despite some small concerns that the group managing the festival is organizing them around the country (will it become cookie-cutter? Or will it remain unique, region-by-region?), this festival is worth the price of admission. Spend the Friday morning at the best market in the Côte d’Or (perhaps all of Burgundy) under les Halles de Dijon, treat yourself to a nice lunch, and head to Délissime in the late afternoon as people begin to get off work and start their weekend. Inside, raise a glass to Charles the Bold, Duke of Burgundy from 1467-1477, and celebrate the new.

What: Food festival Délissime

Where: Parc des Expositions (Tram: Auditorium), Dijon, Côte d’Or, Burgundy

When: March

How Much: Entry is 5 euros but the website offers reductions to 3 euros including a wine tasting glass.

Paris Agriculture Salon

Ham: The taste of FREEDOM

Every year, hundreds of thousands of visitors descend on Paris to see one of France’s greatest passions on full display. It is the Salon International de l’Agriculture, a multi-day celebration of agriculture. This is France, however, so it is really a love letter to food.

At the Paris Expo at the Porte de Versailles in southwest Paris, chickens, pigs, cows, sheep and horses, among others, are on display. The French president makes an annual pilgrimage, along with countless other dignitaries and elected officials. Brass bands play. Talk of employment, pesticide use, European regulations, and farm technology mingle with the unmistakable smells and sights of food.

It means "pig with a black ass"

And the food expo is where the best action occurs.

On the second floor of an immense convention hall, France brags about its culinary tradition and diversity. Every region rents space, showing off their local specialties, oftentimes accompanied by cooking demonstrations. Foie gras from the Dordogne, fish from Brittany, wines from Burgundy, rosés from Provence, bananas from Guadeloupe, pork from the Basque country, apples and butter from Normandy, the Confrérie du Brie de Meaux…as is normally the case when the matter is food, the Gauls come to play.

Provence in the house

There are ample opportunities to déguster, from sips of wine to snitches of ham. Toothpicks adorned with cheeses and bread slathered in rillettes make for nice little snacks as one wanders the vast terrain. And full meals are available in every region, from Alsatian choucroute to cheese fondue from the Alps. 

The glory comes in the variety. Any Frenchman will tell you that the best thing about France is that it offers everything in such a small country: canyons, mountains, waterfalls, skiing, farmland, forests, seashore, lakes. Once these geopgraphic marvels are listed, the Frenchman finds it only too easy and too natural to recount all the different culinary delights that accompany such richness. 

Unlike anything ever seen in a wok

Snack. Snack. Snack.

Every Paris trip needs a tower

There are few greater pleasures than hearing two French women in conversation, meandering the aisles of the food expo. Suddenly, they stop short in front of a display of goat cheese. As one raises her eyebrows in obvious excitement, the other whispers reverentially, “Ah, ça c’est trop bon, ça.” She’s right. It is too good. 

Get your goat on

Go see for yourself…and be prepared for crowds unlike any you have ever seen. Nearly ¾ of a million people visit every year. It’s busy, but for good reason.

Microphone + TV + sheep butts

Women are not afraid of saucissons

What: Agriculture Expo

Where: Paris Expo Center

When: Annually in mid-winter

How Much: 2014 admission was 13 euros with discounted rates for students, groups, and children

Bubbles

Time for some wine talk. In Chaumont-le-Bois, in northern Côte d’Or, a stone’s throw from Champagne, Anne and Sylvain Bouhélier are making crémant de Bourgogne, a tasty sparkling wine made from Chardonnay and Pinot Noir. Right next to the tasting room is the Musée du Vigneron, the Winemaker’s Museum.

Tools of the trade...back in the day

First a little history. Throughout the 19^th century and before, seemingly everyone in this region had vines. They made wine for their own consumption or sold the grapes to winemakers in the area. Phylloxera devastated the region, as it did everywhere in France, destroying an economy and a tradition of a proud people. The government, of course, was concerned not only for the enjoyment of its people at the table, but also for its tax receipts. The state and the winemakers in the different regions came together to experiment, research, and find solutions to the problem. Eventually, grafting American vines to French ones and hybridization yielded a solution. But, as Mme B. was quick to point out, Phylloxera is still in the soil in France. The sap-sucking little pests have not been killed off, but the growing techniques have made the vines impervious to the assaulting offender.

Not a prop from Seven...this is a plow purchased by the first assoication of winemakers in the region

 Once that plague had been conquered, vines reappeared on the land…until around 1911, when the law of appellation d'origine contrôlée (AOC) affected the area. (You see this label on many bottles of French wine, a sign of quality and regional purity.) Unfortunately for the people of the Châtillonais, their region, shoulder to shoulder with -- but not part of -- our old friend Champagne, found themselves in a bad situation. Normalement, they sold the bulk of their harvest of Chardonnay and Pinot Noir grapes to Champagne producers. Once the AOC became the law of the land, the Châtillonais was no longer eligible to sell grapes to make Champagne because their grapes were on the wrong side of the border. Armed with old maps showing that the Châtillonais used to be part of Champagne, not Bourgogne, where it is currently, those with vineyards prepared to protest vehemently this artificial border, a line on a map.  Just as their efforts were ready to amaze Paris and others with their acute knowledge of cartography and righteousness, 1914 arrived.

Now, when in Europe, one must remember that the First World War is a landmark in a way that it just is not in the U.S. Suffice to say that this little band of winemakers had other worries from 1914 on, and the wine world went away. The land no longer had vines, and people turned to more important matters, like surviving and grieving and coping.

Fast forward to the 1980s. The Châtillonais is designated as part of a territory where one can create crémant de Bourgogne. M. et Mme. B. started their vineyard in the 1990s and bought an old house from a grand-mère. In the attic, they found, amidst piles of junk, a trove of vintage winemaker’s tools. They decided, in true French fashion, that these gems couldn’t be relegated to obscurity. At their own expense, they placed the artifacts in a display space on the property.

The diploma makes another appearance...respect the diploma

It is a great place to visit if you are interested in how people used to harvest grapes and turn them into wine. Mme. B. gave a comprehensive tour, explaining how Burgundy is the cradle of wine in many ways, including a description of the 2500-year-old Cratère de Vix; the correct way to cut oak to make a barrel; and how the pressoir works.

While not next to a lot, this little museum is worth a trip. Plus, one gets to taste some delicious sparkling wines from soil that once produced grapes that ended up as bubbles in Champagne. As Mme B. pointed out, “if we don’t make quality wine, we fail.” They are not failing.

What: Wine Museum

When: September-June, Saturdays from 3-6pm; July-August, Monday-Saturday 3-6pm

Where: 1, Place Saint Martin, Chaumont-le-Bois, Côte d’Or, Burgundy

How Much: Wine museum is free; crémant is 7-13 euros a bottle