The last day in France

We got up and wandered into town for coffee. I had a croissant so I wouldn't have to think about getting breakfast elsewhere. The we went off wandering.

First we went to the cathedral, which is really massive. It's gothic and sits at the highest point in town, and it's tall, long, and wide. Inside it's light and the ceiling just keeps going. The stained glass windows glow deeply. I took a number of pictures, but nothing could really convey it properly.

Then we walked off to the area called the Marais, which in Bourges actually kind of is a marais (usually translated as "marsh"). Actually, it's a number of low islands with water running between, that have become garden plots for the people of Bourges. There are some houses, but mostly there are little plots with flowers, tomatoes, and that sort of thing growing. Most were not terribly well groomed, but still it was a nice idea, especially if you lived in an apartment or house in town with no green space.

Then we went shopping. A store I'd seen in Brive called Devred was open and in honor of the Pentecost was offering a 20% off sale, so I bought shirts that I liked, and Eric bought one.

Then it was lunch time. Our guidebooks recommended a place called Le Bourbonnoux, and so we thought a nice formal lunch would be good, so we could not worry about dinner as we hit the road to get close to Paris to leave tomorrow.

The restaurant turned out to be quite fancy, though not too expensive; also creative, though not always 100% successful. They brought us some amuse-bouche: a whipped smoked something on a spoon (which could have been anything, since it just tasted of smoke, though it was good), a little something like a tortilla española but softer, and some cured olives. The starters were good: I had a crab ("dormeur") gelée with a chunky pea whip on top, served with a "dome" of fennel (a cross between a whip and an aspic) with grapefruit wedges, pignoli, and dried violets. It was pretty elaborate but it came together well. In particular, the fennel, grapefruit, and pignoli married remarkably well. Eric had a flan of white asparagus, which was a nice thick item, neither too eggy, too creamy, nor too gelatiny. My main dish was chunks of lamb in a coconut milk sauce (which tasted only very lightly of coconut, and was delicious) with a sort of eggplant cake (which was a little odd but not bad). Eric had a filet of a fish called lieu jaune, served on a bed of green lentils (a local regional specialty, very tasty), with a "sauce de volaille", a sort of odd but tasty poultry-based sauce, and some sort of dried vegetable which was tasty but unidentifiable. For dessert I had a sablé with strawberries and a little custard, with ice cream. The sablé was based on green lentils as well, and was lovely, especially with the strawberries and custard. The ice cream was also green lentil, and that was unpleasant. The flavor wasn't terrible, but the texture was sort of granular. I didn't eat it. Eric had a delicious chocolate mousse that had some strawberry sauce on top. With our coffees were were given a few little treats, but at this point we could hardly eat any more. There was a little square of chocolate ganache or fudge or something that neither of us ate; a grapefruit gelée that was very tasty and slightly bitter; a large red grape coated in sugar, which was a little odd; some sort of apple custard square that was kind of heavy, and a pair of meringues that were like eating nothing at all.

Afterwords we rolled out the door and strolled a bit just to get back to feeling halfway normal. It became quite cold and windy, and was unpleasant outside. We couldn't go in anywhere because that would involve having a drink of something, and we were both exceptionally full. So after a short wander (and an unsuccessful foray into the Fnac bookstore) we headed back to the car and drove off.

The rest of the trip is not much to talk about. Since it wasn't too late, we decided to head further than we'd originally planned. We went all the way past Paris to a little town just past the airport, called Saint Witz, which is mostly a suburban bedroom community, with a large grouping of hotels on the outskirts. Traffic into and around Paris had been terrible, and we'd lost about an hour, so we thought it best to just stop and sleep. We chose a cheap hotel with WiFi (which does not work apparently unless you have a PC and a GSM phone where they can SMS you a password, of all the obscene ideas – so no WiFi). We ate a depressingly lackluster dinner at the chain hotel next door. After so much good food, it's a little hard to step down so far.

Our hotel itself, a Hotel B&B, is actually pretty funny. It's one of those places where if you arrive after hours (past 8:30pm on a holiday like today) there's no one there, but you can get admittance to a room and pay for it from an outside kiosk. The rooms are all apparently two-story, with a bathroom and toilet room downstairs, plus a little table, and a bedroom and TV upstairs. It is otherwise quite utilitarian. It's not an experience I need to repeat, but it's not so bad to be having it now. Tomorrow morning we'll get up and head to the airport to return to Chicago.

Labels: france, journal

posted by Tony at 11:12 PM | 0 comments

Limoges, Bourges

It's funny how dead a French provincial town is on a Sunday. It never ceases to amaze me. We got up, checked out, and walked around town, looking for coffee and some bread to eat in the car, and the streets were all but empty. There was one café where we could have gotten coffee, but we passed it up the first time, and the second time they had no open tables. We found a couple of open patisseries (which seems unusual, but perhaps it's more common now than it used to be) and we bought bread and pastries (pain au chocolat and a tartelette au rhubarbe). We decided to find coffee later – which turned out to be in a rest stop on the way to Limoges. For breakfast in the car we had more pâté with bread, plus cheese (a chèvre), and a little sausage (since we now have a knife). It was very tasty, and left us not very hungry for lunch.

We arrive in Limoges a little before 1pm, and parked on the edge of its very very cute medieval center. It too was dead. The only open restaurants we could find were Morrocan, and cous-cous did not seem like the kind of light lunch we might want. There was one restaurant we saw, but it was a bit fancy and heavy, when all we wanted were something like salads. In the end we stopped in a bar (which serves sandwiches every day but Sunday) and shared a bottle of cider from Brittany. We had come to Limoges to visit the ceramic arts museum, and it closes for lunch, so we had to kill time till two.

The bar closed at two and we headed to the museum, passing a simple brasserie on the way where we could have had a little salad for lunch. Oh well. If we hadn't been in the bar we wouldn't have heard Terence Trent D'Arby and had that little whatever-happened-to-him conversation.

The museum had a little video show about porcelain at the beginning, which was fascinating. It talked about what porcelain is, how it's mixed, and the different ways in which it's thrown or molded into ceramics and then decorated by painting, appliqués, and other techniques. Much of the museum concerns itself with the history of ceramics and shows early Greek and Peruvian pottery, as well as Chinese, Majolica, Delft, etc. But the best part of the museum turns out to be the section (roughly one quarter) devoted to Limoges porcelain, in all its ornate glory. So much has been done with porcelain in Limoges, and the results are really impressive. Things you might not want in your house, because it's not the right style (too ornate, to fancy, for example), you can really appreciate in a museum setting.

We left the museum to drive (in the rain) to Bourges for tonight. On the way we stopped for more coffee and a snack at a rest area. Shopping in the convenience-store section of the shop, we bought some of those paprika-flavored Pringles you can't get in the US, and a pre-packaged duo of salads – one grated carrot, and the other grated celery root. The Pringles were tasty as always, and the salads were remarkably good. (The salads came with a spork! No, I didn't learn how to say "spork" in French.)

We got a rather nice room in Bourges in a hotel called Hotel Christina, and then headed out into the lovely medieval center (similar to Limoges' – lots of half-timbered houses) to find dinner.

We settled on a place called Côtes de Bœuf, which seemed like a nice simple grilled meats place. We started with salads (mine with boiled ham and bleu d'Auvergne, Eric's with lardons and warm crottins de chèvre). Eric's cheese had been grilled on a wood grill and it so impressed me that I changed my order from regular raw steak tartare to "tartare poélé", a house specialty, which is steak tartare grilled very lightly on the outside. It was good but not necessarily better than raw. Mainly it had been made with the sort of cornichon that I don't care for – it tasted too strongly of clove. Eric had a travers de porc caramelisé which was lovely. To drink we had another Bourgueil. We skipped dessert (nothing interesting).

It was pretty early when we left, but we basically just walked around a little more (and looked at the cathedral, which is huge, and where the wind was strong and cold), and then went back to our hotel.

Labels: france, journal

posted by Tony at 11:09 PM | 0 comments

St.-Cirq-Lapopie, Brive-La-Gaillard

At 4:30 this morning several of other guests at this hotel (apparently German) got up early to leave. This involved a lot of walking around, knocking on doors, and calling out to each other. Out the window I thought I heard the sound of an idling motorcoach. It all woke me up, but I managed to get back to sleep far another 4 hours.

We got up, checked out, and took our stuff to the car. Then we had some coffee and headed to the covered market (many towns have a covered market with vendors in it daily, sort of like the Pike Street Market in Seattle). In addition to the covered market, today was the biweekly market, and the square between the cathedral and the covered market was full of vendors. We bought some cheeses, more canned duck products, some pâté, and some extraordinarily delicious strawberries that were almost blood red. We also bought some bread from a boulangerie and a little tiny folding knife from a knife shop. The knife was only €3.50 and has a built in caribiner-like latch so you can wear it from a belt loop.

After rather a lot of time spent at the market, we headed out of town, taking first a tour around Cahors to see some sights we'd missed (their famous bridge, in particular), and finally heading out along the Lot river to get to St.-Cirq-Lapopie. St.-Cirq-Lapopie is described as one of the most beautiful towns in France; on this trip we've seen a lot of towns like that. Perhaps it was the rain, but it wasn't my favorite. It sits near the top of a rocky promontory and spills partway down. The highest point is where the castle used to be, but now there are just ruins. The church just below it remains, though, and so that's the highest building in town. In town we had a simple lunch at a place with a covered terrace (it was sort of pleasant to sit outside but out of the rain) – I had a salade de la marché, which was salad with something like snowpeas and a scoop of "rillettes de deux saumon", essentially a salmon spread. The salmon was uninspired, but was pretty good with little bits of lemon eaten at the same time (a spoonful of salmon plus a quarter slice of lemon, rind and all, is lovely; it's a trick I learned at IKEA, of all places). Eric had the assiette express, in a section called "assiettes repas", meaning essentially one-plate meals. The plate was rather large and mounded with salad, dried magret de canard, goat cheese (a Cabécou or something similar), and a ton of fries (deep-fried potato slices, actually; the original "chips"). Also there were raisins, which he didn't eat of course. It was OK, but it just didn't come together. The potatoes were tasty, though. Then we had coffee, and went exploring.

After a while poking around St.-Cirq-Lapopie, we headed off to the Peche-Merle caves to see prehistoric cave drawings up close. The caves were amazing. It was a little intimidating at first to be underground like that, but quickly I forgot about it, paying attention instead to the formations and the drawings. The first drawing was, to me, the most amazing, because I was fairly close to it, and thought, thousands of years ago a person drew this thing on a wall and here I am looking right at at, and it looks the same as it ever did. (The cave drawings survive, apparently, better than ancient Greek art, of which we have carvings but nothing pigmented. Supposedly ancient Greek buildings were painted garish colors though we always imagine them as white. But I digress; the point is, these caves and this art looked about the same today as it did when the art was made.

Then we hit the road for Brive-La-Gaillard. Along the route we had rain-clouds-sun-rain and then clouds again, all in only about 60km. Brive is much bigger than Cahors, and more prosperous and sophisticated as well. The medieval center is well preserved and organized, and ringed by boulevards where the city walls used to be. The newer architecture that's been added in meshes well with the older stuff (as it does, usually, in Paris). There's also pretty good shopping, though everything was closed already when we arrived. (Monday, it turns out, is a holiday here: Pentecost. Drat. Oh well.) Ultimately I like Brive better than Cahors; like Cahors it feels like a real town, but it also feels more welcoming, and like a place you might live in happily.

We wandered around town, scoping out restaurants, having left our guidebook at the hotel (Les Collonges, just outside the old town). This was a pretty good way to see the old town. Eventually, though, we did go back to consult the book, and also to change into nicer clothing (wear it if you've got it!). We decided to try one place we'd seen that was in the guidebook, but unfortunately they were all booked. So we headed to another place we'd liked the look of, called La Table d'Olivier, which I think would mean "The Olive-Wood Table".

It was an excellent choice. And, since nicer restaurants are often closed on Sundays and holidays, it may be the last nice meal we have on this trip. We both had the more expensive of the two menus, because it had what we wanted. To begin with they gave us nibbles: something like a cross between eggplant caviar and tapenade; roasted peppers on toast; bacon-wrapped prunes. Mmmmm. As a starter I had the terrine de foie gras, which came with a raisin-pineapple chutney, grains of salt, a little hot pepper, and something like a pink peppercorn. Taken all together on a piece of toast, they all worked together to taste really fabulous. Eric started with a summer-truffle salad with asparagus and hazelnut oil. The summer truffles were a little odd, and lacking the strong flavor we usually associate with truffles – probably why we haven't seen them on menus so far – but the salad was still fantastic. My main dish was filet de morue avec crème de fenouil – I don't know how to translate morue, but it's a nice, firm, strongly-flavoring fish (but not too fishy), and it held its own against the rich and flavorful cream-butter-fennel sauce. It was served on a bed of zucchini, red peppers, and fennel. I have never enjoyed fennel as much as I did tonight (frankly sometimes it's too much for me). Eric had a veal chop encrusted in almonds and parmesan with a fabulous lightly-curry-flavored sauce, which was also fantastic. To drink we had a bottle of white Burgundy: Haute Côtes de Nuit 2002. It was lovely, and married perfectly with the Pont-L'évêque cheese I had with my cheese course. (It did not go well at all with the goat cheese I had with it... not quite as bad as mint and orange juice, but the flavors were pretty much at war. So I didn't drink while I had the goat cheese. Eric had some bleu d'Auvergne and some Camembert (not quite ripe, but good nonetheless). For desert we both had the moelleux au chocolat, which was very runny in the middle, and came with a scoop of intensely-flavored vanilla ice cream. By itself, the ice cream was almost too vanilla-y – it had the perfumy quality of a vanilla extract – but taken in the same bite as a piece of cake, it was just sublime. After all that we had coffee, and they gave us some sweets to go with that (which we really didn't need): some sort of baked-custardy item, a chocolate truffle, and a lace cookie that was probably with almonds, but might have been pignoli.

And there's nothing to follow that up with but bed.

Labels: france, journal

posted by Tony at 11:47 PM | 0 comments

Beynac, Domme, Cahors

The Blackberry crashed overnight again, but this time I woke up before it went off and restarted it. Apparently Friday is delivery day in the square. The noise and activity helped to wake us up.

We got up and went out for some coffee... no full breakfast this time. We stopped in the market hall to buy some nuts and sausage (we got a sausage with walnuts... I'd bought something similar in Paris and it was delicious). We considered buying some walnut oil, and the man at that counter gave us tastes of three liqueurs (unprompted – liqueur at 10am is not something I usually request). The first was walnut (noix), which is a local specialty. It was pretty good, and tasted remarkably fruity rather than nutty. The second was horse-chestnut (châtaigne), which was nice, and much nuttier in taste. The third, he gave us a tiny taste, and promised we wouldn't find anything like it anywhere else. "I promise you you have never had this before. You will only get it from me!" He held the bottle so the label was hidden, but I guessed what it was anyway: truffle. It was... interesting. One of those things that's just too odd to be enjoyable. I'd like to think that in the right circumstances, it would be fabulous, but actually I just think it was kind of gross.

On the way out of the market I stopped and bought a chausson aux pommes to round out my breakfast. We checked out of the hotel, loaded up the car, and hit the road. The plan was to meander around the Dordogne valley, and stop along the way at Domme, Castelnaud, and Beynac.

The first stop was Beynac, which has flat-bottomed boat tours of the Dordogne. The Dordogne is one of Europe cleanest rivers, and was the main transportation link for centuries. However, parts of it are only navigable during the high water times of spring and fall, and even during those times boat had to be pulled upstream by people or oxen, so it was easily replaced by trains in the early 20th century. It was also the front between France and England (that is, English Aquitaine) during the 100 years' war. It has been both French and English, as have many castles and towns along the Dordogne.

The river tour was nice and informative. We looked at several castles from the water, and heard about the history of the area. It was also nice to be out on the water in the sun (though we did get sunburned).

The town of Beynac sits along the river and climbs up a steep hill, which turns into a rocky cliff, on top of which is the castle and upper village. It has hardly any stairs, mostly just steep roads – it was quite a workout, possibly harder than yesterday at Rocamadour, or perhaps my legs are just tired. The town is extremely picturesque, and several movies have been filmed there, including Chocolat. It also has all its road and square names written in Occitane instead of French ("Vielh Lavador de la Balma"; "Porta Veuva"), but carved into stone and not colored, so it's not so easily read.

Before exploring, we had decided to have dinner at a recommended restaurant, La Petite Tonelle. An excellent choice! So very good. (Also we did not confine ourselves to menus, but ordered what we wanted off the carte.) I started with a salade aux asperges au magret seché (a bed of baby lettuce and curly endive, lightly dressed; grilled green asparagus on top; at the ends, 6 slices of dried duck breast – the "duck prosciutto" I had the other day – accompanied by a sauce of balsamic vinegar or cassis or something like that, and pink peppercorns. All the flavors conspired together toward ultimate deliciousness.) This was followed by magret de canard with cherries (excellent), and a timbale of spinach, mint, and other flavors (delicious), and some very nice pommes sarladaises. Eric started with oysters (6 creuses with mimolette and lemon), and followed that with cuisse de canard confit (excellent – much better than last night, and comparable to the night before). We had a nice local rosé (from Domme) to go with it.

Then we explored the town, which meant basically climbing up and up and up till we got to the castle. The castle is privately owned and kept up, and so visits are not free. The owner lives in the gate keep, above the gate, and maintains the main part of the castle as a museum piece. It's not fully restored yet, but a lot of it is in great condition. Some rooms are furnished and lit with oil lamps, others are still empty. (We saw two castle privies – the sort I'd read about but never seen: a room hanging off the edge of the castle with a seat with a hole in it perched over the void. We did not use the, of course.) Being kept up so nicely in its original medieval state makes this castle a great movie set, and Luc Besson's 1999 movie Jeanne d'Arc was filmed there.

By the time we left town, we felt it was a bit late to see everything we'd planned, so we skipped Castelnaud (on the grounds that it was not altogether different from what we'd just been doing). We took a meandering route to Domme, where we spent an hour. Domme is the first and only place (so far) that I've seen with actual bilingual government signs – and even at that, there was only one: the sign on entry to the town was labeled "Domme" and below it a smaller matching sign read "Doma". Domme is perched high atop a rocky promontory over the Dordogne. (This is what the region is like – rocky promontories everywhere. It's why we came.) Unlike Rocamadour and Beynac, though, it is only on top of the hill, which makes it easier to walk around. The views over the valley are really spectacular. There's a little terrace-park where you can go and take in the view.

We also bought a variety of canned local specialties, including walnut oil, rillettes, terrines; honestly I don't remember it all. We didn't get duck confit, though we do plan to before coming home. (These will make nice summer meals.) The man at the store offered us a taste of his special liqueur, prune and walnut. It was really nice; much better than the ones from this morning. He said he made it himself, so that was nice – so many of these little food specialty stores are part of large companies, or are merely resellers. We didn't buy any, though, partly because we rarely drink liqueurs, and partly because it's harder to bring back safely now that you can't bring liquids on airplanes.

(A nice side note: he complimented us on our French. Actually, he asked what region we were from, and was surprised to hear we were American. I thought, maybe my accent is pretty good – my comprehension could be better, and I have to ask people to repeat things, but perhaps the overall effect is that I speak fluently but am slightly deaf. This idea amuses me.)

Onward to Cahors for the night! Cahors has some tourism, but is mostly a local administrative town. It has a medieval core which is less well preserved and kept up. It's more urban, with graffiti and garbage, and some modern buildings mixed in with the old. It's less special and extraordinary than a perfectly preserved town like Sarlat or Beynac, where cables for electricity and television are laid under the roads so no one has to see modern life marring the view. But at the same time, it feels real, and it's nice not to be surrounded by tourists, and to have people selling you things constantly.

We checked into our hotel (clean and serviceable, if decoratively uninspired), wandered a bit, and looked at the town. For dinner we went to a restaurant called Le Rendez-Vous, also recommended by Michelin. It's known for "modern food", they said, and the food was excellent. We started with a couple of amuse-bouche, little round buttery pastries, one with toasted cheese and the other with what seemed like olive and anchovy. I had local specialties somewhat reinterpreted: foie gras with fig compote; magret de canard with honey sauce and cous cous; a Cabécou with a salad dressed with walnut oil. (I'm eating duck as though I might never get the chance again... and I must say I'm enjoying it.) These dishes were all good, though the duck was not very ducky – it was delicious, but a little like eating beef, which was odd. Eric started with a mushroom terrine flavored with truffles (a vegetarian option, apparently, with various mushrooms plus truffles in an eggy base), and then had medaillon de veau, sauce au citron, avec sa ris de veau panaché (also delicious – the ris de veau, sweetbreads, were a little round thing breaded and fried, very much like a milanesa), and finished with a tiramisu aux fraises (a somewhat deconstructed tiramisu with strawberry compote on the bottom – it was good, Eric reports). To drink we had a lovely local wine (Cahors) produced biodynamically, called Château Vent d'Autan (2002). Afterward they served us some tasty little sweets: something she called a "congolaise," which was a little light sweet ball made with toasted coconut; a clafoutis aux raisins; and a meringue au chocolat. All were lovely.

And then we went back to the hotel for sleep.

Labels: france, journal

posted by Tony at 11:23 PM | 0 comments

Sarlat day 2 / Rocamadour

For the first time, this morning, my Blackberry crashed overnight, which meant no alarm. (We left our travel alarm at home and have found my blackberry to be the only available timepiece and alarm clock.) Nonetheless, activity on the square awakened us at about the right time. (Thus the advantages of sleeping with open windows – only we didn't get up right away, and I fell back asleep till 10. I hadn't slept well – it was hot in the room.)

We got up and had breakfast – just coffee for Eric, the full hotel breakfast for me. I recalled why I usually eschew hotel breakfasts. They seem like they'll be nice enough, but they are never what I want. I seem to need to relearn this every trip.

Then we headed out toward Rocamadour, which is recommended for a full day trip by the Michelin guide. On the way we got a bug in the car... a bee.. a big bee... a bee the size of a woman's thumb. (We saw a similarly-sized bee dead on the steps at Rocamadour; they must be local.) It was entirely alarming, and after letting out a strangled cry, I pulled over and we let the bee out the hatchback. Thank god it was hovering around the back window and not, for example, in my face. I handled it well, but can't promise I would have in more challenging circumstances. (I saw a statistic once about how many car accidents are caused per year by bees.)

Rocamadour is generally amazing on the level of Mont Saint Michel, but just a little less magical. Perhaps that's why it's less known – or perhaps it's that this region is a bit out of the way by comparison.

So here's the history as I can make it out: there is a valley gorge surrounded by high rocky cliffs and outcroppings, some of which form natural sheltering caves. There was a hermit who lived under a rocky outcropping, known now as St. Amadour, though his original identity is uncertain. (The Michelin guide, which is written somewhat oddly and without any irony, suggests he is most likely Zaccheus, husband of St. Veronica; the two had to leave Palestine after Jesus' crucifixion and go to the Périgord. I don't know... central France seems like an odd choice for one fleeing Palestine, which is pretty far away. There's a similar theory about Mary Magdalene.) The hermit died and quite a while later (I suppose 1,000 years later), his perfectly preserved body was found buried under the rock. This is understood as a sign of sainthood, and so a chapel was built there, and then a convent. It became a major pilgrimage site (being on the way from Paris to Santiago de Compostela probably helped). Below the multi-chapeled "cité religieuse" grew a small village to serve pilgrims; above it, atop the plateau, was built a castle and ramparts for its protection (this being the area of the 100 years' war). Penitants came to Rocamadour to be absolved of their sins (having most likely been sent their by a ecumenical or lay tribunal, rather than being seized by a personal need). They travelled in special clothing that they stripped off in the lower village in order to climb the steps to the cité religieuse in nothing but a shirt and chains.

The cliff is sloped so that the village sits both below and next to the cité religieuse. Just above the 2 and 3 story buildings of the village sits the street level of the square outside the cité religieuse. (These days, of course, there are elevators, though we did not take them – to my personal satisfaction, though my legs are sore now.) The original sheltering rocky outcropping is a part of the ceiling of the first chapel; the larger central chapel features one wall that is simply the cliff face. The architecture is gothic, and I've seen many gothic churches; it's odd to see it blending into the natural wall of a cliff. Above the cité religieuse by several stories is the château, reachable only by a winding path next to the cité religieuse. The path features stations of the cross; on a hot day like today its chief charm is that it's cool and refreshing (a charm more or less undone by the heat one feels as a result of the climb).

At the top you can visit the ramparts by slipping a 2-euro coin into a machine next to a gate. The ramparts are vertiginous and I didn't get far, but Eric took the whole tour and I photographed him from afar. (The cliff and château are so high that the view hardly improves from the ramparts.)

We had arrived initially at the top, by car – the Michelin guide recommends taking in the view of the town from above, first, and I'd agree. It orients you and helps you to understand the whole thing. Then we drove down to park at the floor of the valley, below the village. A few staircases led up to the main street of the village – of course there's only one street; where would another one be? The town hugs a steep incline! The town is currently all restaurants and shops of the tourist variety. Near one end is the "great stairway" when penitents began their slow climb. At the top is a small square by the entrance to the cité religieuse. There's a hotel and brasserie there with a terrace overlooking the valley, and we decided to eat there. (It was that or go back down the damn stairs.)

I started with a salade verte aux noix (tasty, simple, and local), and then had a carpaccio de magret de canard – and oh my goodness this was good. It had a honey-inflected sauce and had some sort of finely-chopped fruit, as well as pink peppercorns, coriander, and some other seasonings. It was so marvelously fragrent! A good counterpart to the duck. Eric had the salade rocamadour, which was salad, walnuts, and toasted cabécou cheese – a local goat cheese (also delicious). We also had coffee to fortify ourselves for the uphill journey. Breaking the trip up that way did make it easier, though.

Up around the chapels we saw a tour group of teenagers (some British, some American) led by an American woman who was explaining the history of the place. After the chapels we headed up to the château and ramparts, and then back down. On the way down the great stairway, we saw the woman who'd the tour group, accompanied by 3 or 4 of her charges, climbing the stairs slowly on their knees, apparently saying a prayer at each step. Unlike the traditional penitents, they wore their ordinary clothes, rather than just a shirt and chains. At the base of the steps was apparently the rest of the group. What sort of group was this? Religious tours? If so, why weren't they all climbing the steps?

I've been to other pilgrimage sites, and it always feels weird to be a tourist where there are pilgrims; I imagine it also feels weird to be a pilgrim where there are tourists. I don't know... I've never been a pilgrim.

After a refreshing Perrier on another terrace, and some ice cream, we headed back to the car. We decided not to try to do anything else that day, though there was time. This way we'd arrive back in Sarlat with time to explore a little more. I was loathe to simply retrace my steps, so I purposely headed off in the wrong direction (up the other side of the gorge) before turning toward Sarlat. This turned out to be a lot of fun! We were alone on narrow country roads, weaving along the verdant limestone gorges that make up the Causses area (a national park... and the name of the croque I'd had days ago in Paris).

Back in Sarlat we strolled further and saw things better that we'd seen before. We paused for a couple of beers, and then headed to dinner.

There are so many restaurants here that serve Périgourdais specialties, it's hard to chose. The guidebooks somehow seem not entirely trustworthy. What to do? We selected a place with outside seating on a cool square outside the main streets, because the menu looked good and it was a few degrees cooler than elsewhere. (It was hot again today.) Also, I'd been wanting an omelette aux cèpes (cèpes are a local mushroom the area is famous for).

The meal was disappointing, though not really bad. I had medallions of pâté with foie gras in the center (good, actually, but small), followed by the omelette aux cèpes (which suffered from being an omelette and being stuffed with mushrooms, particularly in large chunks – but honestly, what did I think I was getting? It's like some form of temporary insanity). The desert that came with my menu was crème caramel, and I traded it with Eric for another gâteau de noix, which was pretty good – different from last night, but neither better nor worse. Eric got a larger, multicourse menu: terrine de foie gras de canard with a local sweet wine, Monbazillac (good – how can you go wrong with foie gras?); croustillade de st. jacques (also pretty tasty, actually; st. jacques are scallops); confit de canard (a far cry from last night's, but still good as always); a toasted Cabécou (also tasty); and the aforementioned dessert. I helped Eric eat his meal since mine was so much smaller and his was more than he needed. We had a red Bergerac to drink which was unremarkable. Also, the nice little square turned out to have gnats, though not enough to be terrible.

One nice moment: a few tables over was a family with a toddler and a baby, plus a grandmother. The mother (and grandmother) were American, but the father seemed to be at least partly French. His English was unaccented, but he spoke French with the kids. Anyway, at one point, the baby was in a stroller, off to the side (where it might fall asleep, but it had been fussing). The father went off, sat by the baby, and sang quietly. So there we sat in a square in a medieval town on a warm evening, and under all the ambient noise – people talking, dishes clinking, things happening in the distance – under all that was a soft, French lullaby.

We returned to the hotel, not feeling like having another nightcap. Thunderstorms were threatening, anyway: lightening flashed in the distance. The room was warm, but when the storms finally hit, it cooled down. They've since passed and now it's bedtime.

Labels: france, journal

posted by Tony at 10:06 PM | 0 comments

Sarlat day 1

We got up at a reasonable time, ate a nice breakfast of bread, cheese, sausage, and melon, and then hit the road. "Hitting the road" meant taking the Métro toward the Bastille to pick up our rental car at noon, as we'd arranged. Noon is maybe not a good time to get something done in Paris, since it's lunch time. There was only one guy at the counter, and it took forever, which is ultimately not all that surprising. (Anywhere you go, car rental shops are often inefficient, except sometimes in airports.) So it was 1pm by the time we hit the péripherique in our car (a cute little Toyota Yaris). But we made good time, despite a wrong turn approaching Brive (I thought the sign for the toll road would be the shorter route, but it turns out it's not). We arrived in Sarlat at 6:30.

Sarlat is an adorable medieval town like so many adorable medieval towns: well-preserved, pedestrian-friendly, loaded with tourists, and dotted with restaurants and regional specialty shops. The specialty of the Périgord region includes many things for which France is known in general: foie gras, confit de canard, and truffles. Périgord also produces black walnuts (and has an AOC for them).

We found a hotel room and checked in. We wandered about town a little, and then sat and drank some beers on the main square. While enjoying out beers an odd-looking man (a long patch of hair in the middle of the back of his head, and a crewcut elsewhere, and heavily tattooed arms, plus a sort of medieval punk edge to his clothes), along with a waifish woman, played medieval music: he with French bagpipes, she with a drum.

The hotel room is on the top floor – 4th, I think – of a building next to the main square. It's a very cute room, but it's only available for two nights, so we'll probably move on after that.

We passed by a few restaurants, including some recommended ones, looking for dinner. We settled on a place that had no recommendation, but which looked nice and faced the cathedral. It was really great. I had their salade sarladaise (with gésiers [gizzards], black walnuts, and something called "magret sec", a sort of duck proscuitto – the duck was delicious, the gésier good but a bit overpowering); confit de canard with pommes sarladaises and haricots verts (delicious! the duck was perfect; pommes sarladaises are potato slices cooked in duck or goose fat, and taste as good as they sound; the beans were overcooked, but I told Eric they were the best overcooked beans I'd ever had); and for dessert, a gateaux aux noix (I didn't need dessert, but I'd ordered the menu, and it came with it; the cake was tasty but a little dry and not exceptional). Eric had the terrine de foie gras de canard (yummy as always); magret de canard, sauce de miel and the same side dishes (also delicious – the honey sauce was especially good; not sweet, not overpowering, just a hint of that floral honey quality); Rocamadour AOC goat cheese (very nice); and for dessert a coupe de fraises (also nice and light, but not really exciting strawberries).

After dinner we strolled a bit, stopped for an Armagnac for Eric and San Pelligrino for Tony, and then turned in. Tired! And nearly midnight as I complete this.

Labels: france, journal

posted by Tony at 10:00 PM | 2 comments

Paris day 5 (last full day)

We went music shopping again. This time we looked under variétés françaises, and found things. We bought: Uztaglote (a humorous take on traditional French music), Andy Palacio & the Garifuna Collection (African-Belizean project of some sort, nice beat, good stuff), Angelique Kidjo (African, funky beat, lots of guest musicians), Camille (recommended by Graziella), and Olivia Ruiz (also recommended by Graziella).

We had lunch at a mediocre brasserie near Place St. Michel. It was fine, but we could have done much better. Tony: Salade Parisienne (with emmenthaler, ham, and carrots, and one dirty piece of lettuce). Eric: Salade de gésiers (which was overdressed); pièce de bœuf with sauce au poivre (well-prepared steak, but lackluster sauce; overall pretty good). Coffee but no dessert.

The we wandered around St Germain de Prés, crossed the Seine at the pedestrian bridge, and went in the Louvre courtyard. The Louvre is closed on Tuesdays, but we looked into the sculpture gardens through the windows. Mostly the sculpture is classical, but some new stuff was among it... it one room we saw lots of people with clocks for faces standing on the stairs. In another, I saw a man holding a boom (I figured they must be recording something while the museum was closed), and he stood so still, I thought he might be a statue... and then I realized in fact he was a statue.

We continued through to the courtyard at the Palais Royale, where we sat for a moment. Then we wandered through the 1st some more, stopping at a post office to buy stamps, and passing through Les Halles on the way to Samaritaine, which we did just to see if it was still open. (Of the three buildings, the auxiliary two are open but hold boutiques like Celio, Etam, Sephora, and Zara; the primary building is closed for a long period for safety repairs. I don't know what the story is.)

Then we headed back (eventually) to the apartment, where Eric showered and I took the laundry to the laundromat for drying. (The washer-dryer in our apartment washes OK but doesn't seem to dry in the least. The process at the laundromat was, by comparison, shockingly fast.)

We left to go to the concert, stopping at Café Rostand again for drinks (Kir for Tony, Sancerre for Eric). This came with popcorn and olives, and was sort of our dinner. (Aside from the sausage I ate at the apartment.)

The concert was in a theater called Le Trianon, which is more or less at the foot of Montmartre, on Blvd Rochechouart. It was a pretty nice theater, though the seats were crowded and shockingly hard and uncomfortable. Though we were in the upper balcony, we could see well and weren't too far away. Rufus performed mostly music from the new album, with a few classics thrown in. He had a full backing band, which is generally better in our experience. The band was all male, which meant the backing vocals didn't always contrast the way they ought, or that they sometimes sang falsetto.. the backing vocals may have been the weakest part, but they weren't really bad. He had a bassist, a drummer, a horn section (sax/flute, horn, and french horn – yes, one guy who was there just to play the french horn), and two guitarists (one guitarist/pianist,banjoist, etc, and an electric guitarist who I believe is the same guy who tours and plays with Duncan Sheik, the one Lynn calls "scary ghost"). Rufus bantered in French, a little babbly but more in control than last time I saw him. (Possibly because he couldn't think of what to say in French as easily as in English.) The main part of the show was in two parts... after the break he come out in lederhosen, just like on the back of his album. (Apparently when he came to Paris to do his reproduction of the Judy Garland concert, he had a sore throat and had to skip two songs. He felt he still owed them to Paris, so he performed them tonight, which was sort of a treat for us.) Then, for the encore, he came out alone in a robe and performed a couple of songs alone at the piano.

After those two songs he stepped up to the front of the stage, put on rhinestone earrings, lipstick, and high heels, and then stepped to the back of the stage. His band came out in tuxedos, and set themselves up around the stage, one of them obscuring him as the lights went out, and he put on a hat and took off the robe, and when the lights came up, there he was dressed as Judy Garland – tuxedo jacket and black hose, white blouse and rhinestones. Music was piped in and he sang "Get Happy" while the band danced around. It was enormously fun! Then he sang Gay Messiah, still in drag, and thus ended the concert. We gave him a standing ovation. I admit I stood up partly because the seats were so uncomfortable, but he did deserve the ovation. All in all a very fun experience.

We took the train back and looked for a place to have a bite and some wine. We went to Café Soufflot, the same place we'd gone to earlier for the internet. Unfortunately the kitchen was closed and so we just had some wine. We we home and had toast and cheese with a little sausage and some radishes.. and nice end to a night! Only now it's very late....

Labels: france, journal

posted by Tony at 11:59 PM | 1 comments

Paris day 4

We headed out with the idea of doing some shopping and then coming home, but in the end we didn't come home till early evening. First we went to Gibert Joseph for music, and then for books. I didn't find any music, but I bought a few books (from the Donjon comic series). (Graziella had suggested some French musicians to me, because I asked, but I couldn't find any of them in the store. Later she asked if I had tried looking under "variétés françaises" – no I had not, but I guess that makes sense. I forget that that section exists. It reminds me of when as a kid I couldn't find Tina Turner's "Private Dancer" because is was filed under "soul".)

We we went to Fnac to pick up our Rufus Wainwright tickets, and then perused the clothing at Celio (but didn't end up buying anything).

We stopped for lunch at a restaurant called something like Bistro du Métro on Blvd de Montparnasse, which we had been to before. Tony: steak tartare (very good, lots of caper, much better than last night). Eric: duck grilled with honey sauce (good but too sweet and too strong a honey taste). We split a pitcher of rosé with it. After lunch we passed by Poilâne to buy a couple of their exquisite apple tarts, which we saved for later.

We went to Au Bon Marché, which was fun, but we didn't find anything we wanted – not even anything worth trying on. It's often pretty expensive there. (I always have this experience: I see a shirt with a nice cut, but which isn't otherwise quite my style. Still, I'm curious enough to check the price; ~€500!)

Then we walked quite a while past the Invalides and the Ecole Militaire/Champs de Mars to get to Rue de Commerce, where one of Paris' two Jules locations is. Jules is where I bought one of my favorite pairs of pants during our last trip to France. This time I bought two new pairs of pants, but didn't find a shirt I liked. Eric found himself a shirt. I was pleased to have bought something, because it was pretty far to walk for no reason. I suppose it would have been more reasonable to take the train there and then walk around, and then take the train back. But it was more or less fun... though the route out there – the more direct one, that is – is not all that scenic. We did stop along the way for refreshments at a café by the Ecole Militaire, where I had an Orangina and Eric had a beer.

We did take the train home, at least to Odéon, where we stopped by both English language bookstores in St Germaine de Prés to find Eric something to read. Finally we got back to the apartment where we rested a bit and had some delicious Poilâne apple tart.

Finally we set out to meet Graziella. The time we were to meet her was not set because she had to go to the doctor, and she was going to let us know when she was on her way. We thought we'd find a nice place to sit and wait for her. On our way down to Odéon, we heard the sounds of a big brass band. A group of musicians were performing on the sidewalk in front of les Jardins de Luxembourg. Among other familar songs, they played Donna Summers' "Hot Stuff", which was pretty funny. Musically, they are a bit like Chicago's Mucca Pazza, but the music seemed to be all or mostly covers. We stopped to listen. They were selling CD's, and I wanted one, but I didn't want to try to make change, so I didn't get one. (And come to think of it, I didn't give them a tip, either.) They are called Les Plaies Mobiles, and I will look them up later.

We met Graziella at Odéon (not having time to find a nice place to sit) and ended up having drinks at Indiana, a Tex-Mex place where we've met her on other trips. It's fine, but a little goofy. They are known for cocktails, but we didn't have any. Eric and I had beers (Adelscott – made from Whiskey malt) and Graziella had a pastis.

For dinner we had planned to eat at one of the two rôtisseries we couldn't eat at last night (both were closed Sunday nights). We flipped a coin, went to one, got there and changed out minds and went to the other, called Avant Seine. It was pretty good. We drank more Bourgeuil. Tony: roast blue-foot chicken (which should have been better, thought the sauce was lovely), and then an apple and fruits rouges crumble (the French word for crumble is crumble). Eric: steak and marrow bone (good but not as special as one might hope), then strawberries with crème chantilly (whipped cream – typically unsweetened and not stuffly whipped). Graziella: pork ribs with honey sauce (the best thing at the table, really nice), and the same strawberry dessert as Eric.

Labels: france, journal

posted by Tony at 5:17 PM | 1 comments

Paris day 3

We got up early to go to market. Since it's Sunday, we'd bought nice bread yesterday anticipating that the bakeries would be closed today (in fact, most aren't; the closest one to us closes Mondays and is open Sundays). The loaf is called a meunier, and it's a round, tall loaf. We ate it with cheese and melon (a fabulous, perfectly ripe melon from the grocery around the corner), and had of course coffee. Variations on this will be our breakfast while we are in Paris, though most days we'll have a baguette of one kind of another.

We walked to market at Place Monge. We bought strawberries and cherries that ended up pretty disappointing. Some African of possibly Creole women were selling some fantastic-smelling prepared foods, and we bought some little fired vegetable turnovers they called samoussas de légumes, which were unbelievably good. I bought some dried sausages, as I always do: one called maigre (lean) tradition and four little cocktail-sized saucisses aux noix. We bough radishes, too. Then we walked to the markets on Mouffetard and bought cheese there (a crottin de chèvre, some sort of tomme, and nice soft fondant of some sort).

After a rest at the apartment we went walking again. We ended up in the Marais where we had two falafel sandwiches from L'As du Falafel. Instead of sitting in our usual playground to eat them, we ate while walking. Bertillon (best ice cream in Paris) is closed Monday and Tuesday, so we had to be sure to go today, but after lunch, we weren't hungry. What to do? Walk more! We walked around the Marais, paused at Place des Vosges, the had coffee at a café near Place St. Paul, and then headed toward Ile St Louis.

We stopped on the way, spontaneously, at the European museum of photography (that's not the correct name; I don't have the correct one handy). There were several exhibits. One was called Memento Mori, and featured large, sometimes blurry, black & white photos that had a sort of abstract quality. One was Trash – a guy took the garbage of famous people, laid it out nicely, and photographed it. That was surprisingly interesting and a little fun; sometimes depressing (Liz Taylor's garbage featured several boxes of food from Jenny Craig). One seemed to be photos of the dies that make engines (not very interesting). One was Androids Need Love, Too, and featured mostly computer-generated faces (sometimes interactive). A very disturbing video called "deep kiss" in that exhibit featured two computer-generated faces kissing – but as their lips approached each other, their other features (nose, cheeks) would just overlap, like they were melting into each other. The last exhibit, Earthlings, featured off kilter photos of people (& sometimes animals) in mostly ordinary situations. They often emphasized a sort of grotesque quality, and photographed from an angle or point of view that a person would not normally chose.

Then we had ice cream. Tony: pamplemouse rouge, rhubarbe, et groseille. Eric: caramel au beurre salée, praliné au pignons. So good. So good!

My friend Graziella had been in Nantes for a few days, and had returned late last night. We met her at Odéon to find dinner.

First we went to Café Rostand, across from the Jardins de Luxembourg, for a drink. Eric: white Sancerre. Tony: Dubonnet. Graziella: hot wine. They gave us popcorn & green olives.

Then we went for dinner to a restaurant on Mabillon right next to last night's restaurant. The name written on the matchbook we grabbed (Bistrot Mazarin) doesn't match what we seem to recall (Grille something). Tony: gravlax w/ toast and some sort of tasty sauce (yummy); steak tartare (not as tender as I would have liked; a little disappointing). Eric: magret de canard poëlée aux pêches (delicious; Eric suspects it was the best dish at the table). Graziella: giant slice of terrine de foie gras de canard with chutney (yummy). It came w/ a glass of sauternes or muscadet or some such thing, which Graziella didn't want, but I tasted. It was very botrytis-y and syrupy; I thought it was a good match for the foie gras. We all shared a bottle of Bourgueil.

Then we went to the Frog and Princess, a British expat bar which has a trivia quiz (in English and French) every Sunday night, which Graziella usually goes to each week. It was remarkably fun!

Labels: france, journal

posted by Tony at 5:01 PM | 0 comments

Paris day 2

(These journal entries will get more interesting after we leave Paris. This leg of the trip is more hanging around and relaxing, so there's less to say.)

After breakfast we walked the full length of the Promenade Plantée, which follows old train tracks. The first half is on an old viaduct, and the second half is in a culvert. It's really quite lovely. It's planted in the very regimented way that is favored in France, and it makes a very nice place to walk. I've often looked at this place on the map of Paris and wondered what it's like, and now I know. (When I mentioned to Graziella that we'd been walking there, she didn't know what we were talking about at first. Apparently, despite its being identified as the "Promenade Plantée" on maps and signs, people call it the Coulée Verte.

For lunch we went to the Bouquet des Archives in the Marais, a restaurant we've been to before that makes nice croques on pain de Poilâne (Poilâne is a famous artisan bakery in Paris). Tony: croque des Causses (jambon de pays, roquefort, fried egg; the Causses is part of the Périgord region we'll be visiting next week), Edelweiss draft beer (too sour, not hoppy enough), café crème. Eric: croque madame (ham, cheese, fried egg), Affligem draft beer, café.

After lunch, more wandering, in the Luxembourg Gardens and Odéon area.

For dinner we ate a place with two names: Iou Pescadou/Café Julien. We started at a different place, but there was no room, the host decided after much reflection. He offered to call a nearby place and see if they had room, which they did. The hostess came over to get us. We chatted on the way over; her English was excellent, though we spoke half French. The restaurant is a nice little tiny place on Mabillon. Tony: chiffonade de saumon fumé au chèvre (essentially a salad; goat cheese, it turns out, is not a great accompaniment to smoked salmon, but it was still good, once I started have the salmon and cheese separately); magret de canard au poivre vert (very tasty – especially the crispy baked potato slices, sort of like a gratin but with no cheese, only tons of duck fat; the poivre vert sauce meanwhile was a cream-based sauce and lovely); gâteau de chocolat (actually a mi-cuit or moelleux – that is, with a molten center; it was very tasty though I would have preferred something even stronger). Eric: salade de fruits de mer; filet de bar (served with fennel and anise cream-sauce, plus a zucchini gratin); griottes en kirsch avec de la glace vanille (cherries in kirsch with a scoop of vanilla ice cream; very kirschy).

Labels: france, journal

posted by Tony at 4:48 PM | 0 comments

Arrival in France...

We arrived today somewhat eventfully – while changing terminals at Heathrow, a fire alarm went off and we had to spend 30 minutes waiting in a corridor behind fire doors. Then, before taking off, there was some sort of... mentally unwell person on the plane who had to get off, and then they had to find her bags, which took rather a while and delayed us another 20 minutes or so. Still, the flight was fine.

Our apartment is nice, and possibly the tiniest ever (~225 sq.ft.), but less goofy than the rue de la huchette apt we stayed in in 1999.

For our first meal we shared a sandwich near the Panthéon. For dinner: Brasserie Balzar. Tony: crottin chaud en salade (in fact, sliced rounds of goat cheese, toasted on toast); brandade de morue (potato-cod whip) w/ more salade; tarte au citron (good, bruléed). Eric: steak tartare w/ salade; bowl of strawberries w/ crème fraîche & sugar. This was the restaurant where we went in 1999, where Eric had his first steak tartare & where I discovered it as well. (I didn't know at the time that it was his first, but I tasted it and was sort of hooked.)

So far so good...

Labels: france, journal

posted by Tony at 4:41 PM | 0 comments

I don't want to know!

More Finn and Charlie MADNESS!

Finn and Charlie are going on hiatus for two weeks. We'll be back in June!

Labels: comic

posted by Tony at 11:05 PM | 0 comments

The highways and cars were sacrificed for agriculture: 5/11 showThe highways and cars were sacrificed for agriculture: 5/11 show

Starting next week I'll be sharing my show with Seville; we'll alternate every other week. The shift will also be longer — 6 to 9am (actually 6-10; 3 hours of music and 1 hour of Democracy Now). This summer schedule lasts till late August.

My next show is actually June 1st; I'll be off for the next two weeks.

Two songs from todays' show — "Le Cygne" by les Innocents and "Can't Get Enough" by the London Suede — are songs I heard on the radio in Paris in 1999. The album by les Innocents remains one of my favorites. I liked it so much, I bough another album by the band, and it was really not very good. So I satisfy myself with the one masterpiece.

I played something by a local artist, Josephine Foster, who I had not heard before. The song was very interesting and a bit odd. The style is what you might call eccentric folk, and it's reminiscent of Tiny Tim, except that Tiny Tim is rather grating and Foster isn't really. Still, it's probably not for everyone.

Bobby Bare Jr. came to my attention because he did a country-inflected cover of the Smiths' "What Difference Does It Make?" His father is a country star, and his music fuses country and rock elements. It's quite good, and the song I played ("Adorable Beast") is my favorite on the album. (The album title comes from a line of the song: "I look cute at the end of your leash, you adorable beast".)

*: new stuff
(r): requests

artist	song	album	label
The Talking Heads	Nothing but Flowers	Once in a Lifetime
The London Suede	Can't Get Enough	Headmusic	Columbia
*Opsvik & Jennings	The Last Country Village	Commuter Anthems	Rune Grammofon
*Elliott Smith	All Cleaned Out	New Moon	Kill Rock Stars
Haale	This High	Paratrooper	Darya Records
*Thilges	Izdiucz (radio edit)	La Double Absence	Staubgold
*Charlotte Gainsbourg	Tel que tu es	5:55	Because Music/Vice
Les Innocents	Le cygne	Les Innocents	Virgin France
Keren Ann	La forme et le fond	Nolita	Capitol
Paris Combo	Le roi de la forêt	Live	Ark 21
*Mary Weiss	I Just Missed You	Dangerous Game	Norton Records
The Shangri-La's	Remember (Walkin' in the Sand)	The Myrmidons of Melodrama	RPM
Josephine Foster	Crackerjack Fool	Hazel Eyes, I Will Lead You	Locust
The Fiery Furnaces	My Dog Was Lost But Now He's Found	Blueberry Boat	Rough Trade
Belle and Sebastian	Le Pastie de la Bourgeoisie	Push Barman to Open Old Wounds	Matador
Zerostars	Dad's Dress	The Good Can't Escape	self-released zerostars.com
*The Race	Ice Station	Ice Station	Flameshovel
*Rufus Wainwright	Do I Disappoint You	Release the Stars	Geffen
Babby Bare Jr.	You Adorable Beast	From the End of Your Leash	Bloodshot
*(r)Feist	1234	The Reminder	Interscope
Love & Rockets	No New Tale to Tell	Earth Sun Moon	Beggars
Ric Cartey	Mellow Down Easy	Get Hot or Go Home: Vintage RCA Rockabilly '56-'59	The Country Music Foundation
*Mavis Staples	Eyes on the Prize	We'll Never Turn Back	Anti-
Cheer Accident	Society at Large	Younger Than You Are Now	Pravda
The Gossip	Standing in the Way of Control	Standing in the Way of Control	Kill Rock Stars
Louise Attaque	Qu'est ce qui nous tente?	Comme on a dit	Trema/Sony
Brisa Roché	Warned	The Chase	Metro Blue
*The Sea and Cake	Exact to Me	Everybody	Thrill Jockey
Aimee Mann	Going through the Motions	The Forgotten Arm	Super Ego

Labels: music, playlists

posted by Tony at 10:21 AM | 0 comments

These adults today, with their hair and their clothes.

Finn and Charlie are still hanging out with young Corey. Read!

Labels: comic

posted by Tony at 11:19 PM | 0 comments

A pseudonym to fool him: 5/4 show

This morning there were a lot more requests than usual, and also a lot more people on the road at 5:40 in the morning, and a lot more people on campus. I stopped by Nancy's bagel shop afterwards, and Nancy said they'd been pretty busy this morning as well.

Mary Weiss was the lead singer of the Shangri-Las, a band that I have come to appreciate more and more over time. We got her new album, her first since the Shangri-Las, in the 60s, when she was 15. I wrote a little about them in April.

At our music director's request, I reviewed the new Charlotte Gainsbourg album. It was good, though I'm a little on the fence about whether it's really great stuff or not. The music was written by Air, and most of the lyrics are from Jarvis cocker of Pulp, and the result sounds exactly like you would expect a collaboration among these folks to sound. It's very theatrical and moody, in a way that's reminiscent of Julee Cruise.

Andrew Bird is getting a lot of well-deserved attention these days, and I hope he doesn't turn into the sort of big-time artist we stop playing on indie radio, because I really enjoy his work. We saw him open for the Magnetic Fields a couple of years ago, and it was just him and a violin, plus a sampling machine he used to record himself and create beautiful layered pieces. On his albums (and sometimes in concert) he has a full band, but I think he's better on his own. This morning's song, "Spare-Oh", is a song I hadn't heard before yesterday, when I discovered Take Away Shows, a French project involving musicians strolling down the streets of Paris, performing acoustically, followed by someone with a hand-held video camera. In spite of the poor sound quality, Bird's performance of Spare-Oh on the narrow streets of Montmartre is fun to watch in that way that makes you wish you'd been there.

Currently I'm reviewing Rufus Wainwright's new CD, due out in about a week. I like it a lot; it's what you'd hope it would be. His last, Want Two, was a bit uneven and self-indulgent, but this forthcoming Release the Stars is generally not. It has its weak points, certainly, but generally it's the sort of tight, well-constructed music we expect from Wainwright. I'd say the sound is closest to Want One, opening with a fully-orchestrated tune full of high bombast, and taking you on a journey that is never boring or repetitive, if occasionally borderline-tacky.


*: new stuff
(r): requests

artist	song	album	label
Kate Bush	Babooshka	Never Forever	EMI Manhattan
The Detholz!	Last Train to Mars	Who Are the Detholz!?	Vortex
*Mary Weiss	Stop and Think it Over	Dangerous Game	Norton Records
*The Fall	White Line Fever	Reformation Post TLC	Namack
Liza Minelli	Use Me
(r)M Ward	Big Boat	Transistor Radio	Marge
*Mavis Staples	My Own Eyes	We'll Never Turn Back	Anti-
David Sugar	Just Like Heaven
*Cornelius	Sleep Warm	Sensuous	Everloving
Canasta	Model	Find the Time	Broken Middle C
*Charlotte Gainsbourg	Everything I Cannot See	5:55	Because Records/Vice
Jean-Claude Vannier	Danse des Mouches Noires Gardes du Roi	L'Enfant Assassin des Mouches	B-Music/Finders Keepers
(r)The Love of Everything	Rest Princess	Drinking Feeling	Sway 004
Selda	Yaylalar	Selda	B-Music/Finders Keepers
Roxy Music	Editions of You	For Your Pleasure	EMI
(r)The Decemberists	Yankee Bayonet (I Will Be Home Then)	Crane Wife	EMI
*Elliott Smith	Almost Over	New Moon	Kill Rock Stars
*Joanna Newsome	Clam Crab Cockle Cowrie	Joanna Newsome and the Ys Street Band EP	Drag City
Andrew Bird	Spare-Oh	Armchair Apocrypha	Fat Possum
Haale	Baz Hava	Morning	Darya Records
*Blonde Redhead	Silently	23	4AD
As Mercenárias	Somos Milhões	O Começo do Fim do Mundo	Soul Jazz
*Modest Mouse	We've Got Everything	We Were Dead before the Ship Even Sank	Epic
The Narrator	The Horse with Blinders	Youth City Fire	Flameshovel
Zerostars	The Good Can't Escape	The Good Can't Escape	self-released zerostars.com
*The Blow	The Sky Opened Wide Like the Tide (Lucky Dragons Newage Powermix)	Poor Aim: Love Songs	K
Les Négresses Vertes	Les Mégots	Trabendo	Virgin France

Labels: music, playlists

posted by Tony at 12:38 PM | 0 comments

Advice for the young...

What would you tell a teenaged boy about dating? And what if he were gay?

This week's Finn and Charlie

Labels: comic

posted by Tony at 11:50 AM | 0 comments