Petite Provence... In My Mind's Eye

I'm reading a book called, "French Women for All Seasons." What an inspiration! It is the sequel to the book, "French Women Don't Get Fat." Also an inspiration! I suppose I gravitated toward them a bit considering my own French heritage, and also falling in love with France through several movies, including "A Year in Provence." What I am particularly inspired by is the glimpse into my own roots, and the difference between the fast, furious, and often crass USA, and the romantic, restful, instinctively intelligent country regions of sophisticated countries. The good ole' US of A has many, many redeeming factors, but romantic lifestyles are few and far between. Sensual suppers of homegrown goodness are growing ever fewer and when they are served up they are often looked at with an upturned nose as if they are wildly odd. Where's the all-favorite delivery pizza? Between my Grandma Womer and my mother and myself, we cover most of the qualities mentioned in the aforementioned books. I never realized that these qualities were a traditional lifestyle for so many. My Grandma Womer lived by the seasons, even in her town homes, she always had a garden in her small yard, and pear trees, and berries, and mint tea, and flowers. Food was a lifestyle for her. My mother on the other hand, has a very particular style of eating. She revels in a few favorite flavors, eats small amounts in general, and often reminded us to never eat so much that we feel full, always stop short of that feeling of satiation. And I, I love flowers, I love vegetables, I love gardening, I love cooking, I love eating, I love walking in the country, I love the sensuality of wining and dining, and a table covered in crisp linens adorned with a loosely assembled bouquet of flowers that I watched grow... It seems that the ease of the American way of eating has robbed us of our health and even our soul, not perhaps the soul that gets you to heaven or hell, but the soul that is exhilarated by apple trees, steamed asparagus, crisp linens, and freshly cut bouquets of flowers from our own yards. Vineyards and orchards, chickens and eggs, fresh milk and cheese, crusty freshly baked bread from my own oven and milled in my own kitchen... I am pleased to have a picture in my minds eye of the someday, the goal, the grand idea... of simplicity. Somehow wine has become associated with sin. How so? Do we stop eating because there are those that get fat? Why do we stop drinking because there are those that cannot stop? Christ Himself... well, you know... or do you? Do you know that Christ was a winemaker and a wine drinker? "For John the Baptist has come eating no bread and drinking no wine, and you say, ‘He has a demon.’ The Son of Man has come eating and drinking, and you say, ‘Look at him! A glutton and a drunkard..." (from Luke)

Moderation and appreciation....