Nothing could be finer than to be in Carolina

So as I've said, these days and for a few more days, I'm in North Carolina. That's an American state on the East (Atlantic) Coast about halfway between, say, Boston (New England) and Miami (Florida). North Carolina has a coastline that is 300 miles (500 km) long. For all that length, the "inner coast" — the edge of the mainland — is protected from ocean waves by a series of long, narrow "barrier islands" with "sounds"  (lagoons, Fr. étangs) lying behind them.

My family comes from and lives in Carteret County, which is named after the Anglo-Norman Carteret family. There's a little town (village) in Normandy named Carteret (kar-tuh-RAY or kar-TRAY) that is just across the water from the Isle of Jersey, where the Carteret family was from. Carteret County, N.C., is located at a point on the coast where two of the barrier islands, and therefore the beaches, run east to west, facing south. The warm Gulf Stream ocean current flows northward just 20 to 30 miles offshore.

Morehead City, my home town, is both a fishing port and a shipping port that can receive ocean-going vessels. It is one of the deepest ports on the U.S. East Coast, but it is also very small. The population of the town is about 8,000, and the population of the whole county (500 square miles, or 1300 square kilometers) is just 60,000. Until relatively recently — say 75 to 100 years ago — Carteret Country was an isolated area that was far off the beaten path.

Actually, there is a lot more water than land in Carteret County. Much of what passes for dry land is actually salt marsh or swamp or sand dunes. Two of the longest barrier islands, which belong to the chain of coastal islands known as the Outer Banks, are Core Banks and Shackleford Banks. Together they run for more than 50 miles (80 km) along the coast and are completely undeveloped. They're inhabited mainly by sea birds, ghost crabs, horse flies, mosquitoes, and wild horses.

The coast of North Carolina resembles the area of France around the Ile d'Oléron, on the French Atlantic coast, and the area running south from the city of La Rochelle down to the Spanish border. Extensive pine forests cover the land. Salt marshes, protected from ocean waters by barrier islands, line much of the N.C. "inner coast." 

The sky is overwhelmingly big, and the light is brilliant, intensified by being reflected off hundreds of square miles of sound and ocean waters. The climate is very mild — but hot and humid in summer and rainy in winter. Average annual rainfall is about 60 inches, which is nearly three times the amount of rain we get annually in the Loire Valley.

I finally got out to the beach today. My sister and I drove there from my mother's place. It's a drive of about, say, three miles, but today was the first time I've been across the bridge that links the mainland to the local barrier island, highly developed Bogue Banks, which includes 25 miles of sandy beach and gentle surf. It was late afternoon, and the setting sun was brilliant, making for very high-contrast images. My theme for today is sea birds.

Un hôtel sans ascenseur

When I was in Paris on November 1, I stayed in a hotel in the Latin Quarter, not far from the Sorbonne and the Cluny museum. It was a hotel I knew about but where I had never stayed before. Why did I choose the Hôtel Marignan? Well, because of location, location, location, and because it was not expensive. I'm not an extravagant person.

I knew the hotel didn't have an elevator. I didn't know how many floors it had. It turned out to have seven of them, in American terms. In other words, the front desk and breakfast room were on the ground floor, and there were six more floors above. The main surprise was that I was given a room on the top floor. Remember, no elevator. Oh, and heavy suitcase.

But the Marignan is in the Latin Quarter, and near the Saint-Michel RER station. The RER is the regional transit system, with trains that go directly out to Charles de Gaulle airport. That's how I would get out there — by RER train. A ticket costs 10 euros. That convenience was really important. I figured: for one night, how bad can the hotel be? Actually, it was fine, except... well, you know.

The Marignan is a friendly place. The man at the front desk speaks French and English. He's French and he's talkative — in a good way. He told me that is wife is an American woman from Connecticut. I think a lot of his clients might be younger Americans. They probably don't mind climbing up and down the stairs, even if their rooms are on a high floor.

The room was perfectly fine. In it were three beds: one single, one double, and one small child's bed. There was no TV, but my room had a private toilet and bath. Evidently, many of the rooms don't. There are showers and toilets located down the hall that are shared by all the people staying in the cheaper rooms on the floor. My room, the deluxe model, cost 89 euros for the night. Cash please, I was told. Breakfast was included, while in most hotels it costs between 8 and 15 euros extra.

Two cafés and a restaurant... in Paris

I've been here in North Carolina exactly a week now. I have taken very few photos. Photography was not the purpose of the trip. And besides, it's been pretty rainy (but very warm) on the days when I didn't have one commitment or another to honor. So I'm still posting pictures I took in Paris on Sunday, November 1.

After going to see a show (a play) late that Sunday afternoon, I walked back across central Paris from the grands boulevards to the Quartier Latin, through Les Halles and Châtelet. I crossed the Seine from the Right Bank to the Left Banks near Notre Dame cathedral, because my hotel was near there. I didn't expect these nighttime photos to be as good as (I think) they are. The one above shows a café called Les Deux Palais.

The photo here shows a restaurant (in the center of the image) called Le Bar à Huîtres (the oyster bar) and a café called Le Quartier Général. The street on the left is the rue Saint-Jacques. That Sunday evening was strangely warm and pleasant for the beginning of November. Click or tap on the images to enlarge them.

La Fontaine des Innocents at Les Halles

La Fontaine des Innocents dates back to 1548, the time of the French Renaissance. It's located on the Place Joachim-du-Bellay (a Renaissance poet from the Loire Valley) in the Les Halles neighborhood of central Paris. Henri II was king when it was built, and the architect was Pierre Lescot

The fountain was originally located in a cemetery, but the cemetery was moved to the outskirts of Paris long ago. There was a church nearby, but it was demolished in the 18th century. The fountain itself was relocated several times over the centuries. Below and at the top are a couple of photos of architectural details.

As always, click or tap on the images to enlarge them.

Pizza, a café, and Notre Dame

Last Sunday night I was in Paris. I had gone to see a play on the grands boulevards and walked the 45 minutes back to Notre Dame Cathedral and the Latin Quarter. I climbed the seven flights of stairs up to my room in the hotel I had chosen to stay in. I thought I'd just stay in, go to bed early, and get up refreshed and rested the next morning for my trip out to the airport and my transatlantic flight.

Problem is, I got hungry. I had only had a small sandwich at lunchtime. My original plan had been to have dinner in a Tunisian restaurant near my hotel, but suddenly I didn't feel good about having that kind of food. I decided to go have a pizza in the restaurant above, and I'm glad I did. It was really good. The pizzeria is on the Boulevard Saint-Germain next to the grounds of the Cluny museum.

Earlier, I had seen the café above and got a good photo of it. I like the cyclist in the middle of the image and the blurry wheels of the bicycle. Actually, it wasn't the first time I had taken a photo of that particular café-bar-brasserie.

Even earlier, I had walked the same route, going in the opposite direction, and I'd snapped this view of Notre Dame. Here's my church for a Sunday.

Oops

I forgot to do a post yesterday. Too busy. Here's one... late.

Je vous apporte des croissants. They are for your Saturday morning eating pleasure. I saw them on the rue Montorgueil last Sunday.

...not in the Loire Valley any more

No, we're in North Carolina. That's a different cup of (iced) tea. And before N.C., it was Paris. That's also not at all like the peaceful, bucolic Loire Valley. Below are some photos I took in the now-trendy rue Montorgueil in the center of Paris. I lived there for three years more than 30 years ago.

Rue Montorgueil crowds on a sunny Sunday afternoon in November

The Stohrer pastry bakery was founded in 1730 and is still in business.

Near the intersection with the rue Marie-Stuart

And an afternoon on the terrace of a rue Montorgueil café (rue des Petits-Carreaux, actually)

Central Paris and the Seine — 1, 2, and 3

I'm still pretty busy with things here in North Carolina, but I'll post are three photos I took just after sunset in Paris last Sunday. I don't have time to write a lot, but I have "processed"  some photos. Click or tap on the images to enlarge them.

Looking west down the Seine from the Pont au Change toward the Pont Neuf, the cupola of the French Institute, and the Eiffel Tower

A closer view of the Pont Neuf (the "new bridge"), which is actually the oldest bridge in Paris

And then a closeup view of the dome of the Institut de France and Mr. Eiffel's tower

I have to say I took quite a few hopelessly blurry photos before and even after I got these. Luckily, I was able to steady the camera by resting it on the stone railing of the Pont au Change, eliminating much of the blur. Did I mention that I always really enjoy being in Paris?

Un sec beurre

This is a classic French sandwich. It's saucisson sec (dry salami) on a piece of baguette (French bread) that has been spread — lightly, of course — with butter. When I lived in Paris years ago, it was called un sec beurre. It's what I made to take with me as my lunch when I rode the train to Paris at noon on Sunday.

I'm writing this from North Carolina. I went to Paris on Sunday to spend the night there before catching my flight to the U.S. on Monday. So here I am in America. In Paris, I stayed in a hotel near the Sorbonne Sunday night. They put me in a room on the 7th floor. With no elevator. I had to lug my heavy suitcase all the way up there. And back down. At my age, that was a challenge.

Sunday afternoon I went to the theater in Paris. I had decided to buy a ticket to a play in case it was rainy and cold outside that day — November 1, after all — making it not pleasant just to go for a walk around the city. I didn't want to be bored. Sunday afternoon turned out to be fantastically sunny and warm in Paris, but I'm glad all the same that I went to see the play. It was a lot of fun, and something I've done just a few times in my life. More about all that over the next few days and weeks.

Two local scenes

First, a tree and the garden shed in the back yard...

...and second, a favorite path on the morning walk

I'll be back tomorrow.

Two views...

...of chez nous...

...outside Saint-Aignan-sur-Cher

C'est novembre !

The weather is strangely warm and sunny. It would be easy to say it won't last. Better just to enjoy it.

Here are two more photos I took on recent walks in the Renaudière vineyard, outside Saint-Aignan-sur-Cher in the Centre-Val de Loire region of France, where we live.

Hallowe'en colors, and a moon

As I wrote yesterday, a busy weekend is starting...

These are three photos from yesterday morning's walk in the vineyard with Callie.

The end of October

I'm just documenting the end of October 2015. Today isn't the last day, but I'm going to be very busy tomorrow. These are some photos I've taken since last Saturday. The first one was the view out the back gate last weekend. A lot of these golden and reddish leaves have fallen now, because we've had some rain and wind over the past few days.

Below is the vegetable garden as it looked this week, with collard greens, nasturtium and rhubarb leaves, and fading squash plants — not to mention the winter squashes themselves, which are "maturing" at this stage. Some of the greens I planted under the cold frame, on a small plot of freshly tilled ground, have come up now.

Here's Callie in one of her favorite places in the world she knows. The dog really enjoys walking around the edges of the vineyard, and into the woods. She's always on the lookout for a deer or a hare. A couple of days ago, near here, she chased some black beast that was either a very big domestic cat or a small badger. It all happened so fast that I couldn't be sure. All I saw was a black blur and a bushy tail.

Around the house and yard, the Jerusalem artichoke flowers that blossomed in September are fading fast and I'm not sure there are really any left, even though we haven't yet had frost or a freeze. I kind of liked the look of the one below, which I also stylized some in Photoshop to disguise the photo's blurriness.

One of the difficulties of taking photographs at this time of year is that the light is dim when I go out for my morning or afternoon walk. The images are not crisp. That's especially true when the weather is foggy or overcast. During the middle of the day, when there's better light, I'm busy in the kitchen, so I don't often go outdoors.

In the photo above, you can just barely see our house and a neighbor's out across this part of the vineyard. Pretty soon the fields of vines, leafless, will take on their skeletal look for the winter, and the pruning will start.

Céleri-rave entier rôti au four

Celery root, also called celeriac by some people, is a vegetable grown for its big round root. It sort of resembles a turnip or rutabaga, but with a rougher skin. It has a flavor similar to the flavor of celery stalks, but sweeter. And of course the texture is completely different.

I've used céleri-rave like carrots or potatoes, cut up and cooked in potées (boiled dinners) and stews, including blanquette de veau, d'agneau, ou de dinde, and it's good. I also like to make céleri rémoulade, which is grated raw celery root dressed with a mixture of cream, mayonnaise, and Dijon mustard and eaten as a salad. That's a classic.

But what about roasting a whole celery root in the oven? It turns out to be really good. You scrub the outisde of celery root thoroughly, rub or brush it with (olive) oil, sprinkle on some herbs (fresh or dried), salt and pepper it, and then wrap it tightly in aluminum foil. Just before you close the foil, put a few sliced, pressed, or crushed garlic cloves in, along with a pat or two of butter, and seal it all up. Roast it in the oven for about 2 hours at 350ºF (180ºC). Test it with a skewer to make sure it's cooked all the way through before you unwrap it.

Serve it in thick slices with, maybe, a cream sauce or mushroom sauce. If you want to peel it, either before cooking it or after, you can do that too. You might also cut off the top of the celery root, hollow it out, and put the herbs, garlic, and butter in there. That would flavor the interior of the celery root really well, I think.

We had our roasted celery root with a creamy mushroom sauce and an oven roasted saucisse de Toulouse, which is a pork sausage with a filling that is, traditionally, made with meat chopped with a knife rather than run through a meat grinder. It's about my favorite French sausage, along with the smoked Montéliard sausages from eastern Frence. The one in my pictures is called a saucisse brasse, meaning it isn't cut into links before cooking, but left the length of an arm (un bras).

Scenes of the season

It rained all night. It's not very cold, though. I decided to put the heat back on this morning,

just to take the chill off, after not having turned the boiler on for a couple of days.

 Birds are flying south.

We do get some fall colors here in Saint-Aignan, and even in our yard.

Walt mowed the yard last week, so it looks good now. We haven't cleaned up the garden yet, but I planted some winter greens under that cold frame you see in the photo.

There are still potted plants to be brought in, and a lot of the golden leaves are falling heavily every day.

It's nearly time for me to go out for the morning walk with the dog along this gravel road through the vineyard.