France Revisited

By Thursday, June 15, 2017 Permalink 0

From Venice to Chartres 

by Jonell Galloway

Venice is a memory. She is a magnet, pulling me forever into her depths, a cozy, labyrinthine nest I roost in, venturing into her damp, dark streets to come home to perch every evening. Venetian food is good, but not good enough to keep me there forever. Still, it was hard to leave her. She had become my best friend, the one I wanted to cuddle up with for the rest of my life.

Every time I set foot in Venice, I forget the rest of the world. I’d forgotten about crispy baguettes and sea-salt butter and unctuous raw-milk cream from Normandy that one can eat like yogurt. I’d forgotten that the history of “my” Chartres is as old or older than that of Venice, going back as far, we know, as the Druids and Romans.

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Quintessential France: A Beach in Normandy

By Friday, July 22, 2016 Permalink 0

by Jonell Galloway

I wish I were on this beach in Normandy today, walking on the Trouville promenade, the French flag flying high and proud, the sea breeze in my locks. I might fling off that long, thick dress with its petticoat, however, and walk shoeless into the sea and stick my toes in the chilly water, before going up for coffee and a Madeleine in that little tower in the half-timber house looking out to sea. That’s me in the blue dress, of course; I always wear a color that matches the sky.

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This painting is from the current exhibit at the Jacquemart-André Museum in Paris. By Claude Monet, The Boardwalk on the Beach at Trouville, 1870.

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Still Life with Flowers and Fruit, by Pierre Auguste Renoir

By Monday, January 4, 2016 Permalink 0

Quintessential France: Still Life with Flowers and Fruit, by Pierre Auguste Renoir.

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Quintessential France: Christmas Feast

By Wednesday, December 16, 2015 Permalink 0

Quintessential France: Preparation of the Christmas Feast in 1870

 

 

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Quintessential France: Before Dinner, by Pierre Bonnard

By Sunday, November 29, 2015 Permalink 0

Quintessential France: Before Dinner, by Pierre Bonnard, 1924.

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Quintessential France: Café La Parisienne

By Tuesday, October 27, 2015 Permalink 0

Café La Parisienne, by Israeli artist Isaac Maimon.

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Food Poetry: Tomato Pies, 25 cents

By Tuesday, August 21, 2012 Permalink 0

by Grace Cavalieri

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Tomato pies are what we called them, those days,
before Pizza came in,
at my Grandmother’s restaurant,
in Trenton New Jersey.
My grandfather is rolling meatballs
in the back. He studied to be a priest in Sicily but
saved his sister Maggie from marrying a bad guy
by coming to America.
Uncle Joey is rolling dough and spooning sauce.
Uncle Joey, is always scrubbed clean,
sobered up, in a white starched shirt, after
cops delivered him home just hours before.
The waitresses are helping
themselves to handfuls of cash out of the drawer,
playing the numbers with Moon Mullin
and Shad, sent in from Broad Street. 1942,
tomato pies with cheese, 25 cents.
With anchovies, large, 50 cents.
A whole dinner is 60 cents (before 6pm.)
How the soldiers, bussed in from Fort Dix,
would stand outside all the way down Warren Street,
waiting for this new taste treat,
young guys in uniform,
lined up and laughing, learning Italian,
before being shipped out to fight the last great war.

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