My Life in France

the older i get, the fewer books i read. i grew up with a book always in hand, so perhaps i over did it. sometime in college, my intrigue with the written word was surpassed by visual arts. for awhile in my late-twenties, the only novelist i could read with any passion was Gabriel García Márquez. to this day he remains my favorite author, and A Hundred Years of Solitude my favorite book. but for some reason, i picked up My Life in France by Julia Child and decided that come hell or first child, i was going to read the whole damn thing. and that's just what i did; it took me all of 11 months, but i finished it this past Wednesday.


i'm not going to review the book, you can go read it yourself. i'm reviewing how it seriously affected me.


for the entirety of my life, Julia Child was a well-known chef. from my previous posts, you've gleaned that i am anything but a whiz in the kitchen, so it gave me hope to discover that she was my age when she first learned how to cook! for some reason i thought she was just born knowing how to make mayonnaise from scratch. she found the love of gastronomy in la Belle France; France is the only European country i've visited, actually studying there on occasion, and can report that i never failed to return home with fewer than 15 extra pounds! to say French food is delicious is like saying the sun is tepid. it is divine! i wasn't halfway through the book before i found Julia to be a woman of extremely good taste and somewhat of a kindred spirit.


the highlight of the novel for me was when she wrote that it took her two years to perfect her French bread recipe. two years she worked on one recipe, baking hundreds of baguettes to find just the right way to do American justice to a classic French staple. originally, she suggested using an asbestos tile in an American oven in order to get the same effect that French boulangeries are able to achieve. quel désastre! eventually, she was informed how asbestos was a possible carcinogen and changed the recipe in later editions of Mastering the Art of French Cooking. apparently it didn't affect many readers because out of all her recipes, that one was the least reproduced. bittersweet, eh? 


turns out that when i consulted my Mom-mom's vast library of cookbooks now housed above my kitchen cabinets, i found she had both volumes of Mastering the Art of French Cooking. guess which recipe i'm going to try first? sans asbestos tile, bien sûr.

floydfest

View from the Blue Ridge Parkway, 2008

we're missing it. 

right now, you and i, we're missing the greatest of all music festivals. Floydfest began yesterday in the rolling hills of western Virginia and we're not there. sigh. i suppose we should be happy for all the people who will be in attendance, for the performers who will play their heart out for 4 consecutive days, and for my hula hoop girl, Spiral, who will dazzle everyone who lays eyes on her. i suppose... but mostly i'm green with envy! 

i attended the last two years with my Dad (Floydfest 7 and 8). there is on-site car camping, perfect for my Element which is conveniently and consistently cozy! no matter where we camp, it's a short, pleasant walk to every venue. the staff do an amazing job at keeping the facilities near perfect (last year they even had staffers standing next to trash receptacles to help you separate recyclables, and most every plate, fork, cup and straw was compostable). vendors line the promenade and offer deals on music, pottery, candles, clothing, and of course, funnel cakes. services like henna tattoos and massages and hair braiding are available; there's always something on the agenda to do.

the Golden Ticket

my Dad always buys VIP tickets - mainly because you get to sit on stage and mingle with the performers afterwards - but one HUGE perk is that we are served two meals a day in a "special" section behind the main stage. i'm talking about a buffet to die for, incredible healthy meals with every type of food you can imagine. they also provide microbrew on tap... EVEN DURING BREAKFAST. it's the one time in the year when my daily cup of coffee is quickly replaced with a tasty flavor of stout!  

Magic Hat Dark Star Stout

once you've been to the site, you'll be able to navigate from one stage to the next in the dark. there are seven 'official' areas where music is performed, although impromptu jams break out pretty much everywhere. they range from the intimate Workshop Porch where we saw David Grisman last year.... to the Dance Tent where nobody sits down....to the Main Stage that can hold 50 people plus equipment. there's a Drum Circle off to one side thru the trees where beats echo deep into the morning hours, and a Children's Universe which is adult-friendly, too. i can't wait to take my daughter next year. we're already practicing her boogie!

Children's Universe

the line-up of performers is diverse and highly entertaining, the kind of music that will make you research and download all of an artist's previous albums off iTunes once you get home. larger bands like Railroad Earth, Grace Potter and the Nocturnals, and Rusted Root mix with local unknowns and international groups to create a tapestry of raw talent. last year, a transformer on the Parkway blew, leaving all of Floydfest without power. that didn't stop the performers, who jammed acoustically as fans merely leaned in closer to enjoy. it became an intimate setting for the thousands of attendees, that is until Grace came on stage and blew the silence to smithereens. (click #6 Some Kind of Ride)

Railroad Earth, from stage

Sunset over Floydfest, from stage

the atmosphere is beyond comfortable, it's like being at home around all your closest friends. no weird drunks, lots of kids, beautiful girls in flowing skirts, performers mingling - the pathways are lined with raspberry and blackberry vines, the potties are clean, and the camping sites are decorated with tapestries and tiki torches and swaying hammocks. this is not Woodstock, folks, it's much more user-friendly, even though we all keep dancing when it rains.

thanks for opening my eyes yet again, Capt'n

driving towards home on the Parkway, thru intersections that bare no signs and streets that remain unnamed, twice i've thought aloud to myself that i am a better person for having attended Floydfest. i think it shows.