Beans, Beans, the Magical Fruit

The sort of secret blog of Beans, a.k.a. Jules, a.k.a. "Legs for Miles" a.k.a. "Rackie the Boob Queen." Fine, ok, not the last two. Starting July 2006, sometimes "Mike," aka "fagadoccio," is a co-poster on the blog. The co-poster child, really.

Saturday, May 13, 2006

As promised, France photos

Remember how I was all, "You can't get a sense, from words, how insanely cute a lippy little runt goat is unless you see the photo"? So, 2 months after my trip to the south of France, some real winners.



I mean, come on. A thousand words, no? Or maybe just three words, repeated 333 times each: so effing cute.


Mamma Mom with Mamma Goats.


Me, drunk, 10 a.m. We did the vineyard early because they say your palette is best in the morning. Probably should have spat. Whatever.


The wine was awesome-- Domaine d'Eole. Small organic winery (almost all the wines in the region are "biologique," or organic according to some standard.) White, red and rose, tried 'em all. I black out just before the rose.


Atelier de Joel Durand, in St. Remy. The guy's blowing up (this is one of his assistants.) There was a reporter from Le Figaro there, and someone from a French home and garden magazine. Keep your eyes peeled for him or you can order his stuff online. His signature is this chocolate "alphabet" where each chocolate is imprinted with little golden letters indicating the flavor on the inside: J stands for chocolate with Jasmin tea, etc. He also uses lots of provencale flavors like thyme, rosemary and olive. Since we were there just before eEaster, the whole place had become a warren of chocolate rabbits, but they make a wide range of stuff, from compotes to cookies. His website's gorgeous, if you're in the mood to salivate all over your keyboard. The guy himself was explosively charismatic, 7 feet of hyperactive limbs, wild hair, and the fastest ream of spoken French I've ever heard.


I don't know if this picture gives you a sense of the intensity...


Fish market in Aix-en-Provence.


More fish in Aix...


More fish...


Ah, the ubiquitous sea urchin, or oursin. Stands along the shore in Cassis cracked 'em by the dozen for you to slurp outside.


Me awkwardly standing alone in Cassis, the innocent, pretty port town just down the coast from Marseille. It's like, if you think of Marseille as a throbbing steam-powered ocean liner, Cassis is like a white wooden sailboat with a doily for a sail and a little white lamb in a hat as the skipper. In other words, adorable.

Marseille: lots more fish at the daily market on the port.

Saddest little squids.


Eels and Octopi.


Check out the creepy eye!

Alrighty. Enough outta me.

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