warm friendly france

We crossed the border into France and it felt like coming home. We had friends waiting with  home-cooked meals and kids Violet's own age, I speak the language (somewhat), and we spent the early months of our marriage in Paris, as well as a month in both the city and the French countryside when Violet was a baby. I am unapologetically a Francophile. I am not saying France is perfect, but it is visually inspiring, both its nature and architecture, the food and antiques are delicious, and there is that je ne sais quoi that is hard to find anywhere else. There is a reason that it has been beloved by arbiters of style for so long. It is beautiful.

On our way from Spain we stopped at Cadiot-Badie Chocolatier in Bordeaux, where they had the most amazing lifesize chocolate shoes (we should have bought ten!), and had an amazing dinner in Poitiers before arriving late at night in a rainstorm at Les Minieres, the house we were sharing with our friends outside of Loches. It was gorgeous! Later in the week we walked around Crissay-sur-Manse, one of the prettiest small towns in France, and had very good tartines and salad--and the most amazing lemon apple cider--at Aux Coups de Coeur, the one cafe in town.

Loches is the perfect small town. They have a farmers market twice a week, a great little antiquaire (I got a beautiful 19thc. marble clock as a souvenir), and several good bakeries. We had a very good dinner at Isabeau de Touraine, where we enjoyed our conversation with the woman who is both owner and cook as much as we enjoyed the food. She even got Alex a croque monsieur from the restaurant next door when he mentioned he had been wanting one ever since his arrival in France. Mostly, though, we just enjoyed being. If the eskimos have one hundred words for snow, the French must have at least that many for strawberries. I will be dreaming of those strawberries long after summer has passed.