Watercolors

My love for European shutters and doors found new inspiration in Cote/Provence.

In Italy, historic preservation sensibilities require that shutters throughout Tuscany (and much of the rest of the country) be painted dark green. So, the shades of white, gray and Impressionist Blue we saw in the South of France were eyecandy.

Discovered this window in a little hilltop town called Le Bar sur Loup....

Les Baguettes

Like the Cote, I figured all the blather about French bread was just that. But not so!

Our Italian grocery store, Esselunga, imports the dough it bakes in waves every day from France. And, don't get me wrong, those baguettes are a relief from unsalted Pane Toscano.

But they're nothing compared to the bread the French carry like kindling under their arms. The bread stores have it down to a science with something like a vending machine: plug your money in and pull out a hot baguette.

Something about that crust and the size of the holes in the middle. Slap some mozarella and tomato inside and it's heaven. Zero condiments required.

No wonder you find half-eaten stumps tucked away on window sills and steps throughout the south of France. Lunch doesn't require much more....

Cote d'Azur

I loved "To Catch a Thief" and "French Kiss" as much as the next girl. But I have to confess: I think the French Riviera is overrated....

The slips of sand are the size of Bardot's bikini, a hamburger goes for 14 euros (and who would want one anyway?), and, despite what Hollywood depicts, you spend more time stuck in traffic than whizzing around la Grande Corniche with the top town.

That said, rather than a parade of North African refugees hawking made-in-China designer knockoffs for some Fagin character in the shadows, the French beach featured a father and son ringing little bells to sell their candied almonds. Every so often, they'd drop a sample on our towels.

Dog Days

Last year, I was too disoriented to notice the signs of Ferie, Italy's obligatory two-week August vacation: Empty parking spots on Ponte Vespucci. Handwritten signs appearing in successive waves in restaurant and shop windows ("Chiuso per ferie, 1 Agosto - 22 Agosto"--See you in a month, essentially.) Bad service. No one but tourists on the streets.

This weekend, it will get worse as the rest of the Florentines who haven't gone to the country/beach/mountains for Feragosto Aug. 15 leave town in a mass exodus.

I only knew it as "the time without broccoli." I searched endlessly through Mercato Centrale and the boutique grocery stores that cater to hotels for the only green thing Jack will eat.

This year, it's all good: I found the frozen vegetable mix at Esselunga. And then, there are the sunflowers (not my photo, credit: paradoxplace)....Really, they look like this.