Gabrielle Perdrizet and me, spring 1977, ready for the Montgomery High School Senior Prom. Santa Rosa, California

I took my prom date to dinner at the French Laundry.  No, really, I did.  In 1977.  Granted back then it wasn’t the French Laundry it would grow up to be.  The French Laundry now owned by uber-chef Thomas Keller.  The world renowned French Laundry; a place where everyone who knows good food wants to eat at least once in their culinary lifetimes.  This past spring I was in the Napa Valley (where the French Laundry restaurant is located in the town of Yountville) and I went to the restaurant.  It was closed as I was there between the lunch and dinner services.  I didn’t have plans to eat at the restaurant.  I wanted to see the building.  I wanted to see if it was true; that I actually did take my prom date, the beautiful and very French, Gabrielle Perdrizet (see photo) to dinner at the restaurant before we went to our Senior Prom at Montgomery High School in Santa Rosa, California, thirty-three years ago.  It was.  I did.

Keller Buys the French Laundry

In 1994 Thomas Keller purchased the building that the current French Laundry is in.  The beautiful stone building dates back to the 1880s when it first served as a saloon.  When alcohol was outlawed within two miles of Yountville it became a brothel.  In the late 1920s it became a French steam laundry.  In 1974 the Mayor of Yountville, Don Schmitt, and his wife purchased the building and opened a restaurant naming it the French Laundry.  The name stuck and when Keller came along he kept it.

I went to high school in neighboring Santa Rosa in 1976 and 1977 during the time that Mayor Schmitt owned the restaurant.  I have no idea how I even knew it existed.  I may have read something about it in the newspaper, or maybe I saw it on a family outing to the Napa Valley.  What I do know is that once Gabrielle, a French foreign exchange student, accepted my invitation to attend the prom it only seemed fitting that we go there.  Yountville is almost twenty-eight miles from Santa Rosa; it’s over hill and dale, it takes close to an hour to drive to.  I think we arrived at the restaurant at five-thirty.

My mother let me borrow her fading powder blue V.W. Hatchback.  The car didn’t have a lot of power, we sputtered along as there were problems with the muffler.  We made it there and back.  I don’t remember what we ate.  To my young developing palate it was the most amazing meal I’d ever eaten — at least in my current memory.  I do remember that we sat at a table next to a window looking out on to flower boxes, or possibly flower beds.  I know we had a good time.  It was Senior Prom after all.  And I don’t have any pictures; we didn’t take a camera, it was before the days of photographing everything.

The 12 foreign exchange students who attended Montgomery High School in Santa Rosa, California, during the 1976-77 school year. The countries represented here are Brazil, Chile, Colombia, Sweden (x2), Greece, Scotland, France (x2), and Denmark

All Things French

My introduction to all things French happened in 1976, the year before the infamous prom date, when at the age of sixteen I went with my French class on a week long trip to Paris.  It was my first time out of the country, my first time to Paris, and I fell in love hard.  I loved Paris, and everything about it, I still do.  It was an eye-opening experience that led to a lifelong connection to the country and its people.

There were twelve foreign exchange students during my senior year of high school, two of them were French.  My interest in all things French grew further as I came to better know Gabrielle and Amélie, the two French exchange students.  Gabrielle became my girlfriend and prom date.  So being the budding Francophile and wanting to impress Garbrielle, I chose a place that seemed to be French for our prom dinner.  At least it had the word French in the name.  I probably thought it served French food although now I can’t say if it did or did not.  No matter what type of cuisine, nor how good or bad it may have been, I have the memory of the experience.  That’s enough for me.

Me in front of the French Laundry, Spring 2010

Now to the Gap

Through my friendships with Gabrielle and Amélie I was introduced to the idea of working in France as an au pair, or mother’s helper.  I did it.  After I graduated from high school I went and lived in France for a year where I took care of four French children.  I returned home knowing how to cook French food, and speaking French.  The experience cemented my relationship with France.  It’s now like a second home.  It also started me on a path of cooking both professionally and personally that I remain on today.

So after my year in France I returned to Northern California and began my professional career in the restaurant and retail food businesses; it was San Francisco in the early 80s.  All was going very well.  I was working in top restaurants with top chefs.  Then I decided I wanted to work in the film industry which I started to do after graduating from the New York University Film & Television program in 1988.  I slowly moved into film and away from food.  I missed the advent and rise of a chef named Thomas Keller.  It was the late 90s and Keller’s star was truly ascending, and I kept hearing things about a restaurant called the French Laundry that Keller owned.

Photo by Jo Stougaard

I often wondered: is this the French Laundry I took Gabrielle to for our prom?  It sort of gnawed at me.  Could it really be the same place?  It was so famous now.  In the early 80s when I was working in San Francisco restaurants I went to the Napa Valley often but this was before the arrival of Keller, and his ownership of the French Laundry.  Until this past spring when I went to the area to attend the Cochon 555 event I wasn’t sure if it was the same place or not.  One thing I did know: while I was there I would be stopping by the French Laundry to see for myself.  I did, and it is, or was, the same place I’d been to all those many years ago with my prom date, the lovely, the beautiful, the very French, Gabrielle Perdrizet.

So it’s true.  I took my prom date to dinner at the French Laundry.  I recently told this story to a friend and he told me he took his prom date to White Castle for dinner.  (He went to high school in New Jersey.)  Where did you take your prom date to dinner, or where did you have dinner before the prom?

Bon appétit!

KCET Top 10 List: I wrote this piece for LA-based PBS station, KCET ~ ‘Walking and Eating in Atwater Village: A Top 10′

Coming Up: International Food Bloggers Conference (IFBC), August 27 – 29, 2010, Seattle Washington.  So much fun last year that I’ll be attending again this year.  Are you?

Upcoming Posts: Cookbook Reviews: Steak and Friends: At Home with Rick Tramonto by Rick Tramonto, Spice Dreams by Sara Engram and Katie Luber, Cider Beans, Wild Greens, and Dandelion Jelly by Joan E. Aller.

]]> http://www.100miles.com/prom-date-the-french-laundry/feed/ 14 http://www.100miles.com/the-languedoc-narbonne/ http://www.100miles.com/the-languedoc-narbonne/#comments Wed, 24 Jun 2009 02:02:00 +0000 Charles Thompson http://100miles.com/?p=40

And to the market we shall go! Part of my excitement at visiting my friend, Anne, in the Languedoc was doing ‘foodie’ type things with her. Going to the local markets, food purveyors, and restaurants, as well as cooking with her. One of our most fun – and unusual – days was the day she took us to Narbonne. It was Saturday, the day before we were to leave, and Anne wanted to cook a simple seafood meal for our last dinner together. One of her favorite fishmongers is located in Les Halles, the main market in Narbonne. So off we set to Narbonne. We did a quick walking tour of the city to get a feel for it. It’s now a city of 50,000 people, and is about twelve miles from the Mediterranean so it’s a good city for seafood. It was originally founded as a Roman port, and was also the first Roman colony outside of Italy; in the town square you can still see a portion of the Roman road that connected Italy to Spain.

After our quick tour of the city center, we walked over to the market. It’s one of those daily markets inside a large building with individual stalls selling all manner of food items: locally grown vegetables, meats, charcuterie, fish, cheese, pastries as well as a few locally produced wines. We stopped at a produce stand, one of Anne’s favorites in the area, where we purchased asparagus, tomato tapenade, and one of my favorite new tastes: pickled garlic. This is very popular in the South of France; they take peeled whole garlic cloves and pickle them in vinegar, sugar and spices. The pickling process removes the bite from the garlic making it sweet but still leaves it crunchy like a pickle. They’re delicious. Our next stop was the fishmonger where Anne bought bulots (sea snails), marinated fresh anchovies, and fresh sardines and mackerel. Our shopping was complete; we had our menu: bulots avec aïoli, marinated fresh anchovies, tomato tapenade, pickled garlic, grilled sardines and mackerel, and grilled asparagus.

By this time it was late morning and I was jonesing for my late morning café crème; a habit I started in Paris and took with me to Spain. A café crème (cafe con leche in Spain) in late morning, and often one in the late afternoon – just so I could keep going into the evening. We were busy travelers; we had a lot to see and do. And I just loved that there were so many places to stop – and to sit – to have a coffee, and that not once was I served coffee in a paper container. Always in a ceramic cup with a saucer and a metal spoon. It might have been more about the ceremony than needing caffeine. But I digress. There were several places to either eat, or get a coffee, or have a drink in the market. We found one and the four of us sat down at the counter. This was a tiny place. It was called Chez Bebelle. We sat on chairs that looked into the small space that was the kitchen. There were a few tables off to the side. That was it.

And this is when the fun began. It was just before noon and the staff was setting up for lunch. We ordered our drinks and watched as they began the lunch service. All the seats at the counter quickly filled up. I realized it was run by a family. I assumed they were the ‘Bebelles’. But, as I found out by doing a little Internet sleuthing, they are the Belzons, a brother and sister. His name is Gilles, hers is Johanna. The little girl who looked to be around ten or eleven years old working alongside them remains nameless. Possibly either Gilles or Johanna’s daughter? Robert still talks about the fact that the little girl was working at such a young age and that she was pouring wine. Not something we would see in the U.S. As we sat there I heard someone shout something but I didn’t know who it was, or what they said. A few moments later, Gilles grabbed a megaphone, aimed it across the market, and spoke into it: “Michel, deux bavettes, s’il vous plait!” He was telling someone he wanted two cuts of beef, please.

I looked to see who he was addressing and before I could register who it was a white package came flying through the air and Gilles caught it. I suddenly understood. The restaurant was too small to store all of the meat, and other items it would need so they didn’t. There was no reason to. When someone ordered something off his meat centric menu he simply had the butcher across the aisle put it together and send it over. We all watched joyfully as this little restaurant went about its business. Gilles placed several more orders using the megaphone as we sat there. Each time the item was delivered wrapped in white butcher paper either by hand or through the air. We had other plans for lunch but when I do go back to Narbonne I’ll be going by the market to have lunch at Chez Bebelle.

We finished our outing by having lunch at Les Cusiniers Cavistes situated very near the market. The restaurant is one that Anne works with when she conducts her cooking classes and food tours of the Languedoc through her company Saveur Languedoc. The food at Les Cuisiniers was fresh, local and superbly prepared. An added feature is the artisanal bread they serve that is baked in a wood fire oven that has been operating for hundreds of years. The day ended with another amazing meal chez Anne that evening. To start we had les bulots, the marinated sardines, the tomato tapenade, and the pickled garlic; for the second course Anne grilled the sardines, mackerel and asparagus over les souches, uprooted grapevine trunks, giving the fish and asparagus a rich smoky flavor that was unique as well as perfect.  A fitting last meal.  Sadly, our time in the Languedoc was coming to an end.

Photos above, taken by Charles Thompson and Robert Guerrero, from top to bottom: the entrance to the Narbonne market; the Roman road in Narbonne; fish selections at the Narbonne market; spice selections at the Narbonne market; Chez Bebelle in the Narbonne market; Gilles placing an order with the butcher; sardines and mackerel grilling over les souches.

Check Out: my friend Jo’s new site: Chef’s Who Tweet, follow your favorite chef; add to her list of chefs who Twitter.

My Status: home, blogging, cooking, missing Paris, eating, blogging, missing France, dreaming of Barcelona…

Upcoming Posts: France and Spain: more detailed blogs about our food and travel adventures in France and Spain. The Wedge Salad: a recipe, the origins of the salad and of Iceberg lettuce. Review: ‘The Barcelona Cookbook’.

Paris is always about food.  At least it is for me.  It’s probably other things to other people but food and eating are my end all, be all Paris activities.  And in a city like Paris food and the chance to eat are everywhere, all the time: cafes, restaurants, food shops, open air markets, crêpe stands, even department stores.  I actually wasn’t going to write about Paris as I didn’t think we had done enough food-related activities on our recent trip to France and Spain but then I realized we had.  Our short time there actually revolved around food and eating; happily so.

Our plane arrived at Charles de Gaulle airport on a Monday morning at 7:30 a.m.  By the time we took the RER to Gare du Nord and a taxi to our hotel in the Marais it was a little after 9:00 a.m.  We walked into the lobby, exhausted and unkempt from a long flight from Los Angeles that included a plane change in Boston, to find that our room wasn’t ready, and might not be until 2:00 p.m.  We could leave our luggage and return later.  We had no choice.  We grabbed our cameras and our day bags, and stepped out into the street.  I told Robert I needed a good cup of coffee and something to eat.  On the corner down from the hotel were two cafes.  We sat down at an outside table on a little square in those most comfortable wicker-style French cafe chairs.  We ordered two petit déjueners with café crèmes.  I couldn’t have been happier.  The fact that the first thing I was eating in France was a crusty baguette, sweet butter and jam was perfection.  There’s nothing like a fresh morning baguette slathered with sweet French butter.  We sat, we ate, we drank our coffees and watched the Paris morning happen around us.  I could have sat there all day.

Except there were a few errands I wanted to run, one in particular: since I began writing my blog in January I have been exploring other blogs and bloggers.  One of my favorite blogs is David Lebovitz .  He’s an American pastry chef, was a longtime employee at Chez Panisse, who moved to Paris a few years back and writes about his Parisian experinces on his blog.  He’d announced that his most recent book: ‘The Sweet Life In Paris’ had been published and was for sale at W.H. Smith, an English-language bookstore in Paris.  With this subheading: ‘Delicious Adventures in the World’s Most Glorious – And Perplexing – City’ I had to read it.  I thought it would be fun to read while in France.  W.H. Smith is located at 248, rue de Rivoli.  The rue de Rivoli is quite a long street that runs through several arrondissements but we could pick it up nearby so we set off after our petit déjeuner. It ended up being a wonderful walk that took us right by several of Paris’ grandest monuments such as the Hotel de Ville, Paris’ city hall; the Louvre; the Tuileries Gardens; the Jeu de Paume museum; and the stunning Place de la Concorde.  It was like a walking tour of the best monuments in Paris; a perfect re-introduction to Paris.  I bought my book and proceeded to read and enjoy it throughout the trip.  On the walk back we peeked into the very chic Place Vendôme.  I was in love with Paris all over again.

Our first evening we met our friends Jay and Neill at their Marais apartment before going off to dinner.  I wanted to bring some kind of host gift.  As we walked back to the hotel we saw a number of pastry and candy shops selling beautifully colored macaroons.  Come to find out there is some kind of macaroon craze going on in Paris right now — they are everywhere.  But they are very chic and fun-looking;different, strange flavors like green tea, peanut butter, passion fruit, and mango; Technicolor colors like bright pink, lime green, and lemon yellow.  Not at all what we are used to tasting and seeing in a macaroon.  We finally stopped in a little shop that sold macaroons only.  We selected a few and voila a host gift.  Jay and Neill own a wonderful little apartment just down the street from our hotel which they rent out when they are not in Paris.  We met them there, had drinks and hors d’ouevres, and then walked through the Marais to dinner at Aux Trois Petits Cochons.  The prix fixe menu changes daily depending on what’s available at the open air market right next door; the food was well-prepared and quite good.  The restaurant and service charmimg.  It was an enjoyable evening.

The next day, I still had one remaining errand to run: to find a hostess gift for my friend, Anne, who we stayed with in the Languedoc.  So as we were out and about in Paris seeing a photography exhibit at the Bibliothèque Nationale in the morning, and visiting Père Lachaise cemetery in the afternoon, I kept my eyes open for something wonderful.  I also learned that Robert had never been to the Galeries Lafayette – Paris’ top department store that looks like Bloomingdale’s on acid.  I love the GL.  So in our quest for Anne’s gift I took him there.  Once inside, we needed sustenance, I needed caffeine. Thankfully much in France is still old-fashioned.  We checked the directory and sure enough the entire top floor was a cafe and restaurant.  We made a beeline.  Unlike the horrible food courts that all U.S. malls have, this was the real deal. Like an old-fashioned cafeteria with real dishes and silverware.  Grab a tray, see what was on offer, and take what you want.  All the food looked good, was fresh and decently made.  We both had a cafe crème and a pastry.  We sat at a window seat and looked down on the Paris  Opera house.  The gold leaf on the statuary shining in the late-evening sunshine.  Happiness.  After, when Robert had seen more of the main store, we found Anne’s gift across the street in the GL housewares store.  The GL also has an unbelievable food hall to rival any other food emporium of it’s kind.  I’d never seen it before but the selection is immense and all of it extremely high quality.  It was fun to wander through looking at all the delicacies and drool.

Our final night in Paris was spent with my good friend Marie-Claude van Steenbrugghe.  I met Marie-Claude when she owned a goat cheese farm in the Charente, in west central France.  We met in San Francisco in the early 80s when I asked Marie-Claude if she would teach me how to make goat cheese.  I never actually got to learn but I did spend time with her at her farm in France, we toured goat cheese cooperatives, and met other goat cheese makers; she took me to a goat cheese competition and judging.  It was fascinating.  Several years later, at my behest, she brought her family to New York and ultimately helped develop the goat cheese that would become Coach Farm Goat Cheese made on a farm in Upstate New York.  We have remained good friends over the years.  Robert and I joined her, her husband and her daughter and her daughter’s husband for dinner at her Paris apartment where we ate Japanese.  It was wonderful to see her again and get caught up with each other.  It was another very special food-filled evening in Paris.

Our two days in Paris were fast and furious but worth every rushed moment.  We did and saw a lot, I got my periodic refill of the  City of Light.  A city I treasure and always will.  I hope we are able to go back soon.

Photos above, taken by Charles Thompson and Robert Guerrero, from top to bottom: the newly gold-leafed sculpture, ‘Liberty’ on top of the Paris opera house; city-owned bicycles for rent; Charles and Robert at their favorite neighborhood cafe; Robert eating his Galeries Lafayette pastry and coffee in the store cafeteria.

Check Out: my friend Jo’s new site: Chef’s Who Tweet, follow your favorite chef; add to her list of chefs who Twitter.

My Status: home, blogging, cooking, missing Paris, eating, blogging, missing France, dreaming of Barcelona…

Upcoming Posts: France and Spain: more detailed blogs about our food and travel adventures in France and Spain. The Wedge Salad: a recipe, the origins of the salad and of Iceberg lettuce.  Review: ‘The Barcelona Cookbook’. ]]> http://www.100miles.com/paris/feed/ 6