Chez Stoneman

Glad to Be Back

Pierre and I moved our family to France last month -- to our renovated barn at the foot of Vezenobres, a medieval village in The Gard near Nimes and Uzes.  It's been far too long since I've written on this blog -- maybe once since having our twin boys Oscar and West almost three years ago.  Since our return, Pierre and I have remarked to each other several times "that deserves a post!" -- after both good and bad experiences.  So...here we go...a new category of posts on Chez Stoneman called "Glad to Be Back". 

When I had the time, I loved writing long-form stories about our life in France and the characters we met along the way.  Everything is different now, so expect nothing more than quick glimpses into what it's like to be back -- reminders of why we chose to come back, sarcastic comments about how so much is backwards here, the stunning landscapes, the frustrations and pleasures, of course, the boys -- Oscar and West!

A few early thoughts...

• good cheap wine and the rose goes down like water
• they don't have a service-oriented bone in their bodies here
• i love our butcher -- look up "abateur" -- he raises, kills and prepares his meats, the last of his kind
• no one in our village is on Twitter
• starry skies and bright moon rises are priceless
• lots of insects here in the country!  scorpions, spiders, BIG crickets and beetles, bees and wasp nests...  and night creatures like bats and porcupines
• it's great to be cooking wholesome meals every day - that feels good
• really hard to go from working mom to mom working

Hope to keep writing and sharing here in the days and weeks ahead.  And hope you'll come visit us during your travels.  

We're Renting the Barn

It's been along time since I've written, I know.  One word: twins!

I have so many things I'd like to write about.  In the mean time, we're renting the barn in France more often now so we've posted all the details on the house and the surrounding area here so that we don't keep rewriting for each new inquiry.  It's raw and unedited but it's all there.  You must stay at our place if you're ever in the area!

Restored Stone Barn in Southern France

The Barn
The Barn (as we affectionately call it) has been lovingly restored over the past 5 years.  Originally built in 1782, the spacious stone home has a special feeling because we used original old and regional materials in its restoration.  The house is decorated with art and furniture from our travels in Europe, Morrocco, Mexico and the States, along with family antiques and finishings like windows and doors.  Every detail and corner of the house has a story. 
 
The main living room which has great volume with its 6m/20 foot high ceilings and long wood beams is heated with an amazing Canadian wood burning stove giving a warm feel to the room. This big open space brims with light.  The open kitchen is equipped with top of line oven, fridge and a special collection of collectible china, stemware, bowls, flatware, etc.  The big kitchen opens to the dinning room making the space great for entertaining, both facing east, getting most of the morning sunshine. The house is surrounded by north and east facing decks sheltered from the afternoon heat (in hot Summer months) and great for eating and relaxing outside.  We of course have WIFI and Internet phone, a washing machine and an office area in either the living room or mezzanine. 

Up the custom-made staircase appointed with original Moroccan wraught iron grills is the mezzanine that looks out over the main living room, along with a decadant bathroom and two bedrooms.  The bathroom has an original claw foot tub, separate standing shower with extra large shower head, original bistro doors and floor length gold-framed mirror.  Both bedrooms have comfortable double beds, views of the village, and a special custom closet in the master bedroom. 

Although not yet landscaped, the surrounding property is spacious with a few olives trees, an old fragrant rose bush great for cutting fresh flowers, and a beautiful custom iron gate at the entrance. 

Vezenobres
Vezenobres is a picturesque medieval hilltop village with just over 1000 inhabitants.  Situated in the Languedoc – which borders Provence, Camargue and Les Cevennes mountain range – the pristinely restored village is kissed with the sun almost all year and looks out over a valley of vineyards, olive trees and fig trees, the seasonal wild flowers of Southern France.  The charming village square – a leisurely 15 minute walk from our barn – has a Bar Tabac with fresh salads and tartines for casual lunches (evening live music in the Summer months) and a fine restaurant with large outdoor terrace.  We recommend lazy walks from our house up to the village, explore the entire village on foot – it’s a treasure – and finish with lunch or dinner and a carafe of rose at the Place de la Mairie (the center square). 

At the foot of the village a small commercial center with a basic grocery, pharmacy, bar, news stand and salon.  The Thursday morning farmers market at the foot of the village is tiny but a must for its regional traditional butcher and fruit & vegetable stands.  For more extensive grocery shopping, and for gas and other basics, take a 10 minute drive toward Ales.

The Surrounding Area
You're less than 1 hour drive from a lot of landmarks. If you have the chance you should check the New York Times from last Sunday which has a long article about the area.  The region is called the Gard, it's right next to Provence and feels like you're still in Provence in terms of lifestyle, open markets, vinyards, wild flowers, and the thick accent of good-natured Southern French people.  It's 20 minutes to our favorate village, Uzes, which is world famous for it's Saturday market that takes up the whole village, quite an experience for anyone at all interested in food.  You will find all the local products you can dream of. Cheeses, meet, charcuterie, veggies.... everything from local organic farms. Avignon is an important cultural and historical town with music and art festivals and great restaurants. 

It's 45-60 minutes from other great towns and cities like Arles, Avignon, Montpellier (where the beach is and the marshlands of the Camargue with wild white horses, bulls and flamingoes all around). When we want to go out for art or music we usually drive to Nimes (30 min), Arles (45 mins) or Montpellier (1 hour).  The house is also 10 minutes from a town called Ales where you can shop and do errands like getting gas and other basics.  Ales also has a great daily covered market (Les Halles) for regional meat, fish, poultry, bread, cheese and produce.  Nimes is Spanish influenced, has one of Frances' greatest Roman arenas in the center of town, lots of restaurants, shops, beautiful public garden, int'l airport, high speed TGV train station with 3 hour trips to Paris and the CDG airport.

Pont du gard is less then 30 min driving from the house. They usually have free concerts in the summer.  Orange is Pierre's hometown and is 1 hour (the NYT article talks about the opera and concert in the antique theater and we really recommend to experience it if you're at all interested in art/music. Seeing a show in this theater is just amazing).  Arles is 1 hour from the house and The Hotel Nord Pinus has a great restaurant owned by freinds so if you decide to go there at one point during your stay, let us know and we'll tell them.

Getting There
We recommend flying to Paris and taking the TGV to Nimes (20 mins from the village).  You can also fly through any major destination in Europe and then connect to Marsielles or Montpellier – the first ist a 90 minute drive and the latter is a 60 minute drive.  It almost essential to have a car in the area in order to explore and get around.  Car rentals are available at all TVG train stations or of course any airport.  Nimes – the closely city – has an international airport with frequent low-cost airline flights to secondary airports in London and other major cities throughout Europe. 

Not a Barn Any More

I'm just back from a month in France, where "The Barn" as we affectionately call it is officially no longer a barn.  Within my first week, we began to live there (I hesitate to say that we actually moved in because it is still a work site and we only brought sleeping and cooking essentials with us).  Although I returned to the States just as Pierre was about to finish the last major work (floors and counter tops in kitchen/dining room) we got a glimpse of what daily life at the barn and in Vezenobres is like...

Pierre heads downstairs while I'm still waking to open all the shuttered windows and doors, we have lazy morning breakfast on the east side patio where the sun is still mild and we discover how many new roses have opened overnight, then we start think about what projects to do around the house and what I will make for lunch.  Lunch may require a quick run to the village store for fresh bread and any staples that are missing from the house, or even better a visit to Les Halles in Ales 10 mins away for fresh foods of all kinds, I'm sure to stop on the way home on the side of the road at the entrance to the village to buy fresh peaches and melon from a local farmer whose wife sits all day in in a folding chair shaded by their truck. 

Pierre's been busily working all morning on the house, which we expect will never actually be done.  Even still at 1:00 or later when I call him for lunch he's on his knees or on a ladder, thick with dust but deeply satisfied.  Lunch is on the adjacent patio slightly shaded from the Acacia tree and cooler from the breeze, hundreds of bees and wasps stay tucked into the Acacia and don't bother us at all.  After melon and coffee, or a sweet tart from our own fruits if we're lucky, Pierre threatens to go upstairs for a siesta.  But shortly he changes the music for a new pep and goes back to work without a hitch.  I on the other hand mosey upstairs to putter and end up relaxing on the bed, which is at just the right position to gaze out the window and get lost in the leaves fluttering in a tall tree in the garden next to ours.  The sunlight that sneaks through the tree branches creates a hypnotic effect of dancing leaves.

It doesn't seem fair to be so relaxed while Pierre is pounding and lifting and hauling and sweating.  I muster the energy to freshen up and head out for a few afternoon errands -- the hardware store for Pierre, the video shop to rent a film, my Internet cafe to make contact with the office, the tourism office to check on local concerts...but by 5:00 the afternoon heat is penetrating and it's best to get back to the cool interiors of our stone walls.  Pierre wraps up around 6 or 7 by rolling a cigarette to accompany him while he waters all of our plants, oleander, roses, olives, cypress and lots of weeds.  This of course is followed by a pastis, we're back over to the first patio where the evening sun is perfectly mild and the sky light is starting to change.  All the neighborhood dogs bark as their parents come home, an almost-unfortunate soundtrack to an otherwise tranquil and rewarding part of the day.

Dinner follows much like lunch, outside if we're lucky, and always laced with some local produce.  Without much of a social schedule or the distractions of a working TV, we might take a moonlit walk if I'm lucky (Pierre's not much into walks).  On my last night before returning to San Francisco, I insisted on walking to the village for the Fete de Vezenobres, the local summer party that all villages host in their town square in late summer.  Pierre warned me that I'd be disappointed with the local fare and probably dismayed to socialize with the Gardoise villagers.  The people of the Gard or not exactly well-heeled or well-traveled.  But I was bullish about going.  The walk was dreamy -- we'd never actually walked all the way into the village, which is only a 3 minute drive.  We mounted the hillside from a street we'd never taken before, nosing around people's terraced gardens, listening to dinner conversations through windows and still, three years later, amazed at how we were the only people in the streets.  Artfully lighted at night, the village effect warmed me (as did the uphill walk).  We had cheap pizzas and bad wine at the local bar before checking out the party.  Pierre was sure that the band and road crew were eating at the long banquet table behind us, and once the musicians got up to get on stage, the roadies started to gossip about their band mates. 

In the short walk from the bar/pizzeria to the town square across the street, my heart sank.  Just crossing the street and entering the tented party area I counted at least 6 mullets, really bad exaggerated mullets.  Pierre was right.  The party crowd was a mix of local teenagers crowded up to the beer stands dressed in tight jeans and fringed shirts, and native villagers in their 50s and 60s nestling with to their partners smoking cigarettes and watching the band.  The band played a non-descript French soft rock song that Pierre mock-hummed along to, trying to get me to smile.  I wasn't amused, the entire scene brought me down a bit and I leaned into Pierre for support. 

But we stopped and took notice once the next song started.  One of the back up singers had taken over the center stage and began a string of a dozen edgy pop and hard rock songs right from my own play list, ending his set with the White Stripes!  I couldn't believe it -- good rock in my little unknown medieval village of 1200 people.  We stayed for almost the entire set as the front man busted out some pretty funky footwork and good English one-liners to cajole the hesitant crowd while the music got louder and harder.  Pierre and I only subtly tapped our feet and patted each other to the drum beat.  But inside I was celebrating my rock roots and taking pride in great American music!  We walked home, guided by the bright light of a full round moon, listening to the concert encore the entire way home as it echoed off each of the old stone houses on our path.  I still couldn't believe it.

Well, that was just one night.  Typically, we wander upstairs after loading the dishes into the sink and clearing the kitchen of any thing attractive to our family of mice.  Still a cultural oddity to me, all the shudders must be closed before we head upstairs, and there are several of them.  Upstairs we close the shudders but leave the windows open to keep a cool summer draft going.  We might start in bed with a DVD or a book, but both of us are passed out within 15 minutes -- Pierre from the healthy fatigue of a full day of physical labor and me from that relaxed didn't-do-much-today fatigue. 

I've included an update to The Barn Diary, our photo chronicles of the work Pierre's done over the past three years.  The last 20 photos are from this past month, although I included the whole diary so you could see the transformation.  Mouse over any picture for its caption.  And start making plans to visit us in France next summer!

Summer Trunk Show

You might remember the fun Spring trunk show I hosted last year with jewlery, accessories and paintings from San Francisco and France.  This time I'm showing new jewlery by French designer Virginie Bernard.  Virginie's designs are often dramatic and rich with color and stones, but sometimes playful with delicate beads, wire and chain.  But always feminine and sexy!  Hope you can join us and spread the word.  Wine and cheese in the garden is a given.

Chez Stoneman Summer Trunk Show

Saturday, June 30 from 2pm to 6pm

415.401.7557 or [email protected] for more details

Cheap City

I got a note from my pal Mike Capozzola this week.  The Chronicle is publishing one of his cartoons called "Cheap City" -- what a break for Mike.  Cheap City is a guide to getting by on a Bay Area budget.  It appears each week on the last page of the Chronicle's weekend entertainment guide "96 Hours".  Here's a link to the SF Gate archive of his last few stills. 

Mike's cartoons have always reminded me a bit of my big brother Sam's cartoons -- The New Dark Age -- which you can see here on my blog.    Take a look at both when you can!

Just for Jason

Pierre and I spent two adventure-filled weeks in Argentina last month.  There are many exciting stories to tell and pictures to share.  I hope to get to that very soon.  But, for my friend Jason at work, I've chosen to get these photos up right away. 

Jason is an almost-maniacal soccer fan.  He drooled when I shared with him photos and stories of the energy I witnessed in Lyon at the Lyon-Czech game a few years ago.  Chanting fans, homemade banners waving crazily, pelting the visiting team with food scraps and garbage all made for an exciting experience (and I consider myself a sports atheist). 

But what we witnessed in Buenos Aires made the Lyon game look like a friendly school match between suburban elementary school kids.  La Bombaria is one of three local stadiums and home to La Boca Juniors -- La Boca is a lower class Buenos Aires neighborhood known for colorful aluminum storefronts, delicious cheap grills and food, and its reputation for being sketchy at night.  The passion and vigor that rises from the stadium during a game is well known and everything I read while planning our trip suggested going to a game.    

Many of these photos are actually video clips that capture the madness -- the rhythmic songs and lyrics that didn't let up for a moment (emphasis on 4-letter expletives directed at the visiting team), the added fervor whenever the ball got near the goalkeeper, the zealot-looks in the eyes of the fans, the confetti made by fans from the programs that rains down amidst smoke left over from flares and fireworks -- that surrounded us.  I need to figure out a way to post video, stay tuned.  Jason, this post is for you, I can't wait to tell you more about the game in person. 

Boca Juniors!

New Barn Photos

Pierre's been in France for almost a month already and I just got my first round of photos of the barn.  As you might expect, he's there hammering out one last round of hard work to get the house in a "habitable" state.  Two years ago we thought we'd be well into the house by now, and even thought we'd have the pool and landscaping completed.  Now we'll be happy when it's merely habitable, not even finished.  We have all of our furniture gathering dust in Pierre's parents garage, and dozens of wedding gifts and treasures we found in Morocco that haven't even been opened.  We can't wait to move in and unpack this summer when we're there in July! 

Check out the photos, it's really coming along.  Pierre's working with one other guy on this trip, and his father has been helping out quite a bit too.  It's going to be so cool to have a place where every detail was our decision and made by Pierre's hands.  You must come visit some day! 

Valentine's Day

It's that time of year again, when I pull out the precious collection of my grandmother's Valentine's Day cards.  She was a school teacher for a few years in the 30s before marrying my grandpa.  Her students gave her darling cards that she treasured as keepsakes.  And when she passed away my grandfather gave me almost the entire collection, I have hundreds of them.  I've talked to a few friends about collaborating on a book project where we publish all of them with little stories and maybe even recipes from my grandmother...oh, another fun project I wish I had time for.  I'm convinced it's a perfect fit for Chronicle Books. 

We don't make a big spectacle of Valentine's Day at our house -- overpriced flowers and pre-fixe dinner menus aren't a real turn on.  But these sweet cards -- the designs and the rhymes -- are worth a look to rekindle the romance and innocence of the past.  Hope you enjoy, and happy Valentine's Day.   

Dishola -- A Great Idea

I'm excited about a clever new community site called Dishola - launched today by my dear friend Paula and her friend and business partner Lindsey.  Dishola is a food review site but for individual dishes rather than full restaurants.  Thank goodness for that, because they certainly wouldn't want to compete with the 100s of resto reviews and recommendation sites already out there.  I showed the site to a few friends at work today who are pretty tapped into the social media phenomenon and they loved it..."that's a great idea."  And Pierre said the same thing.  I think social sites that work do so because they appeal to an authentic way people think or interact.  My food mood is more often driven by a desire for a certain dish than a certain restaurant or cuisine.  Mmmm, pad thai; mmmm, bolognese; mmmm, enchiladas.  So, hopefully Dishola will take off. 

Paula and Lindsey are based in Austin; and Lindsey is moving to San Francisco in a month or two (I'm excited about helping him figure out where in the city he and his wife will live and converting another person to this city).  But  even on its first day, Dishola already covers a few dozen major cities.  One of the top rated dishes on the site is the Spaghetti & Meatballs from Emmy's here in SF; Pierre and I were there for dinner last night and had just that!  (My suggestion is to split it, it's massive).  And I've thought of 3 reviews I want to write right away: the house specialty at Yank Sing; the green enchiladas and Panchillo's, and the gnocchi at bar Tartine. 

Check it out and spread the word.  Next up will be Paula's new book Cow Girl Cuisine...and look at  this priceless photo of Paula and her man David at their wedding a few months ago.  This was taken at the Sunday morning Julep Brunch following the wedding day.  Scrumptious! 

Poetry

My sweet friend Annie (aka Wexford Girl) sent me a poem a few months ago that made her think of me and Pierre.  The poem by Gerald Locklin hit home for both us and soothed our aches for our home away from home. 

i envy those
who live in two places:
new york, say, and london;
wales and spain;
l.a. and paris;
hawaii and switzerland.

there is always the anticipation
of the change, the chance that what is wrong
is the result of where you are. i have
always loved both the freshness of
arriving and the relief of leaving. with
two homes every move would be a homecoming.
i am not even considering the weather, hot
or cold, dry or wet: i am talking about hope.

With or without knowing it, Annie perfectly captured a very real aspect of our lives together and helped us both get over that wanting for the other place that creeps up on us after a few months away.  Pierre was a little blue at the time when we received the poem, wondering if we had left France too soon for him.  For me and Pierre, one of us is always away from home, and together we are always in our home away from home.

I remember so distinctly the point at which I decided to try love where I am in the present and not to long to be somewhere else.  Pierre and I had been living in Lyon for about 9 months and I was continuing to travel back to San Francsico every 3 months or so.  Work gave me the perfect excuse to come back frequently, but secretly I was thankful for the chance to stay connected with my personal life back home too.  On one trip in particular, I started to miss Lyon and France almost immediately after arriving back in San Francisco, and just days before I had been so eager to be there.  It dawned on me that it was getting exhausting to be psychologically mixed up like that all the time and I've been trying to be present ever since. 

Thank you for sharing the poem Annie.  It captures the delicate balance of living a life in two places.  We never overlook how lucky we are, even if we moan about it a bit.