Provence has a special place in my heart. I can still smell the lavender and mimosa on the maquis covered hillside above the small house I rented in the foothills below Grasse and might still be living in the area now, if serendipity hadn’t taken me to Sydney and Sabrina.
We are on a road trip to Tuscany and I want to share these and other old haunts with her on our way there. We’ve travelled through the night on the Train Bleu to Nice, and I can’t think of a more romantic way of making the first part of this journey, as we enjoy a sunset bottle of Burgundy, crusty baguettes, cheeses, patés and a tarte au pommes bought at the Gare du Nord, and wake up to the train snaking along the Riviera coastline from St Raphael to Juan-les-Pins, in the early morning light.
Detouring to Cannes, I take us down the much travelled route I once used to commute to and from the yacht I crewed for a season at Port La Napoule, to show Sabrina my old village. To my dismay I discover that not only has it been swallowed up in suburban sprawl, but I can’t even find the little enclave where I lived. Seems I have committed the cardinal error of re-visiting a place that I truly loved. Lesson absorbed for future travels, we hightail it along the coast road to Nice and a superlative Soupe de Poissons (the rouille is especially garlicky), in the Old Town.
Soupe de Poissons with Rouille: Serves Three
5 tbsp olive oil
3 medium onions, finely chopped
3 leeks, sliced
1 fennel bulb, chopped
1 celery stalk, chopped
2 garlic cloves, minced
1lb tomatoes, chopped
¼ teaspoon fennel seeds
Large pinch saffron
Broad strip orange rind
½ teaspoon tomato paste
8 peppercorns
4½ lbs white fish trimmings (heads and bones), washed
4 pints water
1lb skinned fish fillets (bream, mullet or any white fish), cut into chunks
Rouille:
3 garlic cloves, minced
2 egg yolks
5oz olive oil
½ teaspoon cayenne pepper
4 teaspoons tomato paste
Lemon juice
Heat the olive oil in a very large heavy bottomed pot; add the onions, fennel and celery. Cook over a medium heat until the vegetables are soft but not browned. Add the garlic and tomatoes and cook for 10 minutes or until they are soft. Add in the fennel seeds, saffron, orange rind, tomato paste, pepper-corns and fish trimmings. Cover with just enough water and bring to the boil, then simmer for about 40 minutes, stirring occasionally.
Strain the liquid into another large pot. After pressing as much of the flavour as possible out of the solid as possible, discard the bones and vegetables. Bring the stock back to a simmer and poach the fish fillets until cooked. Leave the soup to cool a little, then puree in a blender until smooth. Taste for seasoning and adjust as necessary.
For the Rouille, put the garlic into a pestle and mortar with some salt and work to a puree. Transfer to a bowl and then mix in the egg yolks. Using an electric hand mixer, add olive oil drop by drop, beating all the time. The mixture should thicken as you add more oil. Stir in the cayenne pepper, tomato paste and lemon juice to taste.
Serve the soup topped with large croutons smeared with the Rouille.
Sabrina wants to tarry and explore but I remind her that I have booked somewhere special to stay tonight so we continue on down the coast and I thank the travel gods quietly that Villefranche at least appears completely unchanged, as we soon arrive amongst the picturesque pastels of its townscape
Right on the harbour quayside, stuccoed a dusky orange is our hotel, its wrought iron balconies facing the waterfront ‘stage’ like so many opera boxes, perfect for leisurely bath robed breakfasts. ‘The Welcome’ quietly reveals its many charms, including its connection with the poet, artist and filmmaker, Jean Cocteau who lived here for long periods and whose art graces its walls and those of the nearby St Pierre chapel which is filled with his murals. Every evening the pillows in our tiny upper floor bedroom are adorned with sprigs of freshly picked lily of the valley, another beautiful understated touch.
It’s a dramatic contrast to Villefranche’s glitziest connection, the notorious 1971 summer residence of Keith Richards and his starry entourage and the recording of ‘Exile On Main Street’, arguably the Rolling Stones finest album, at the Belle Époque Villa Nellcôte across the bay.
Breakfasting late on our balcony the next morning, we watch the crowds in the square next to our hotel enjoying Saturday’s Food Market. Tempting as it is to mingle with them, we have a lunch date in the hills at La Colombe d’Or in Saint Paul de Vence, another low key art filled institution and much loved place from my erstwhile crewing days. Afterwards, I tempt fate further by driving cross country to Grasse, where Sabrina is entranced by the fields of lavender and the perfume distilleries of Fragonard and Galimard.
Our departure tomorrow for the Italian Riviera feels like at least a day too soon, so we’re extracting every last drop from this evening on the terrace of our hotel’s waterfront restaurant. As we work our way pleasurably through a seafood tower, we drink a last toast to this beautiful part of Provence, where thankfully most of my precious memories are still intact.
Return to Provence
What memories you triggered. La Napoule when Andrew and I used to spend summers in Cannes Marina from 1974 and then in Le Grand Duc in the 1980's and 90's. The set menus in the village of la Napoule with wonderful food where we ate outside in the square. Getting in the car and trying to drive to Cannes and having to park so far away after nightmare traffic jams we vowed not to do it again and always did. The wonderful Saint-Paul de Vence wandering around in the evening sun and seeking out great places to eat having to eat the cheapest set menu rather than some of the absolutely brilliant eight course ones. Wonderful walks in the evening sun in the hills with the smell of lavender. Somehow in our memories it was always sunny and the food was always good. Even the tops to the supermarkets were much more exciting than our supermarkets and the great food markets were a joy.
Meeting friends and swimming but yes EATING and drinking. Thank you for the memories and the recipe, your writing released so many joyous pictures in my mind.
You had me at the sunset Burgundy and crusty baguette. :) This sounds like an absolute dream. Putting it on my list of places to visit.