During the 40-minute drive to Mireille and Edward’s I took in the dramatic views. As I got closer, the landscape became punctuated by olive groves, rows of fruit trees, vine yards, and beautifully restored — or in some cases romantically abandoned — stone houses.
I met my fellow houseguest, Giovanna, a young Italian woman, and over a simple lunch of tomato salad, burrata, and freshly baked bread on the patio, our hosts outlined what we might do the following few days.
Where to start? With a wine tasting, of course. For Mireille, the former CEO of Veuve Clicquot, and Edward, wine is one of life’s great pleasures. After lunch we drove to Chateau Romanin, a nearby winery, for a tour and tasting. Built into the mountains, this one-time castle features a stunning wine cave whose dramatic arched ceiling recalls the interior of a cathedral. After a quick tour in English and a tasting we purchased a few bottles of wines at a reasonable price.
We continued driving into the heart of St. Remy de Provence, a bustling market town with winding streets and smart shops. Mireille introduced us to sources for two more of her favorite indulgences: olive oil and chocolate. As Frenchwomen know and Mireille espouses, all things in moderation — including chocolate.
Our first stop was the famed chocolate shop Joel Durand, owned and operated by the master chocolatier. Inside the little store, one side was dominated by a glass case filled with trays of small chocolates. The shopkeeper asked if we wanted to try one. (Would three women care for a piece of chocolate? A unanimous oui!) After sampling, we made our selections and departed.
Next on our little excursion was Olive, a fantastic shop that offers an impressive selection of Provençal olive oils and other local treasures. The subtle smell of rosemary and lavender filled the air. To the right, a room was filled with the fabulous soaps for which Marseilles is known. “French women adore things like perfumes, sachets, and scented waters,’’ explained Mireille, surveying the selection. Nearby, a sign directed patrons to enter a long room whose wooden shelves were lined with a vast collection of French olive oils.
