A Fun Word for Wine + Jean-Marc's Epic Farewell at Chateau Beaupin

Dinner at chateau beaupin with jean-marc and kristi
Jean-Marc and Kristi, center, surrounded by longtime friends.

Tuesday Night was my husband's big night and this was no time to stress. So I took a deep breath, asked readers for ideas about how to chill before a social event when you are an introvert and you don’t drink, and received some excellent tips in return. Next, I dressed to the nines and headed to Marseilles with mon cheri for his epic farewell dinner. With the help of his friends and investors, Jean-Marc was saying goodbye to his wine shop, Le Vin Sobre (the commercial name of his wine company "Glou-Glou").  Read all about it in his own words (in French and in English) below.

TODAY'S WORD: "GLOU-GLOU"

- An onomatopoeic noun-turned-adjective imitative of both the sound of liquid leaving a bottleneck and of the rapid gulping of said liquid, glou-glou leads a small pack of recent French lexicographical imports driven by the surging global interest in French natural wine... A glou is what Anglophones call a “glug”; a wine that is glou-glou is one that invites glugging. -Spruge.com

You'll run across the term glou-glou just about everywhere in France (and now elsewhere) if you are into wine, as my husband is. But just what exactly is glou-glou and how do you use it? I liked this simple explanation from Mashed.com:

"It's the kind of wine you can sit back and relax with friends and just enjoy — it's glou-glou."

image from french-word-a-day.typepad.com
Autumn Excursion in France: "Women in Burgundy" - An adventure designed especially for "Wander-ful Women!" September 20 to 30, 2023 - Includes seven nights in Burgundy and three nights in Paris. Click HERE for details.

CELEBRATING FRIENDSHIP AND WINE AT CHÂTEAU BEAUPIN
by Jean-Marc Espinasse

After selling my wine shop in January, I managed to gather the friends who accompanied me on my adventure at Vin Sobre La Ciotat for a farewell dinner.

I chose to have this dinner in Marseilles at Château Beaupin, a magnificent 19th-century mansion located close to where most of us grew up. In fact, almost everyone present has been friends for over 40 years, and everyone was delighted to discover this place, which is both mysterious and well-known.

It has recently been restored, and last year, Chef Sidi, whom I know through our son Maxime, cooked outdoors on braziers. The season wasn't yet warm enough to consider an outdoor dinner, but I had hoped to have the aperitif outside. Unfortunately, it was raining, and as the 24 guests arrived, our dining room became quite cramped.

By magic, the mistral returned in the early evening, giving us a wonderful red sky for the sunset and allowing us to extend the champagne aperitif.

For the occasion, I brought bottles that had a strong connection to me. Domaine Rouge Bleu (our first vineyard), the Ephemera cuvées that I now vinify with friends, as well as Château Ferry Lacombe, where I had my first job, Domaine du Banneret of my cousin Audrey, Château de Pibarnon in Bandol... and I enjoyed explaining the history of each wine to the guests.

The meal was convivial and delicious. And since everyone knew each other, there were changes in seating from the table plan I had established, which I found delightful.

Before I knew it, it was already midnight, and the first guests were already leaving. I would have liked to prolong this, but I was really happy to have been able to make it happen, to bring together my friends associated with Vin Sobre.

This morning, when I woke up, I was still happy thinking about this evening and I said to myself that we should continue to organize this event with my friends, even though the adventure of Vin Sobre La Ciotat is well and truly over. So, I will look for another equally symbolic place and hope to organize a new event to continue to keep Glou Glou alive, despite everything.


CÉLÉBRATION DE L'AMITIÉ ET DU VIN AU CHÂTEAU BEAUPIN
par Jean-Marc Espinasse

Après avoir vendu ma boutique de vins en Janvier, j'ai réussi à réunir les amis qui m'ont accompagnés dans mon aventure au Vin Sobre La Ciotat pour un dîner d'adieu.

J'ai choisi de faire ce dîner à Marseilles, au Château Beaupin, une magnifique maison de maître du 19 ième siècle située à toute proximité de là où la plupart d'entre nous a grandi. En effet, la quasi unanimité des personnes présentes sont des amis depuis plus de 40 ans et tout le monde a eu grand plaisir à découvrir ce lieu à la fois mystérieux et connu.

Il a récemment été restauré et, l'année dernière, le Chef Sidi que je connais grâce à notre fils Maxime, y a cuisiné en extérieur sur des braseros.
La saison n'était pas encore assez chaude pour envisager un dîner en extérieur mais j'avais espéré faire l'apéritif dehors. Malheureusement, il pleuvait et au fur et à mesure que les 24 invités arrivaient, notre salle à manger devenait bien étroite.

Par enchantement, le mistral a repris ses droits en début de soirée, ce qui nous a valu un merveilleux ciel rouge pour le coucher de soleil et permis de prolonger l'apéritif au Champagne.

Pour l'occasion, j'avais amené des bouteilles pour lesquelles j'avais une forte connexion. Domaine Rouge Bleu (notre premier vignoble), les cuvées Ephemera que je vinifie à présent chez des amis mais aussi Château Ferry Lacombe où j'ai exercé mon premier job, Domaine du Banneret de ma cousine Audrey, Château de Pibarnon à Bandol... et je me suis fait plaisir à expliquer l'histoire de chaque vin aux invités.

Le repas était convivial et délicieux. Et comme tout le monde se connaissait, il y a eu des changements de place par rapport au plan de table que j'avais établi et j'ai trouvé cela extra.

Avant que je réalise, il était déjà minuit et les premiers invités partaient déjà. J'aurais voulu prolonger cela mais j'étais vraiment heureux d'avoir pu faire cette soirée pour, à l'origine, réunir une dernière fois mes amis associés au Vin Sobre.

Ce matin, en me levant, j'étais encore heureux en pensant à cette soirée et je me suis dit qu'il fallait continuer à organiser cet évènement avec mes amis, même si l'aventure du Vin Sobre La Ciotat est belle et bien finie. Du coup, je vais me mettre en quête d'un autre lieu tout aussi symbolique et espère organiser un nouvel évènement pour continuer à faire vivre Glou Glou, malgré tout.
 
Sidi at Chateau beaupin marseille
Sidi Chateau Beaupin
Chef Sidi Salhi, who went to school with our son Max, talked about the food and preparation. We had fresh, seasonal asparagus, a délicious purée de céleri rave, fish (I believe it was turbot), spring strawberries, and a rich chocolate cake for dessert. Miam!
Sidi
Sidi, about to grill some local dorades on the brasero. 

WONDERFUL ADDRESSES:
Chateau Beaupin = 37 Avenue Beau Pin, 13008 Marseille
Phone: +33 695 380 173 Instagram: chateaubeaupin_marseille
 
Hédoné - Sidi Salhoné's new restaurant in the colorful and historic Panier district of Marseilles.
14 rue du Refuge, 13002 Marseilles
Phone: +33 637 952 397 Instagram: hedone.marseille
 
Le Vin Sobre - Before opening his own Vin Sobre in La Ciotat, Jean-Marc worked for a time at Le Vin Sobre in Marseilles. 
There are several wine boutiques throughout Marseilles, find the nearest here.

 
Jean-Marc and Kristi at Chateau Beaupin in Marseilles France
Everything went beautifully. I'm already dreaming of another dinner get-together at this historic batisse in Marseilles. How about you? Would you like to join us? Maybe we can arrange it for this blog's 25th anniversary? It's good to dream!

LEAVE A COMMENT 
To leave a comment or to read the comments, click here. If you like, include the city where you live (it's always interesting, especially for my Dad who is reading from Palm Springs!)

FRENCH VOCABULARY

Click here to listen to all these terms in French and in English


Glou-glou = gulp, glu​g​
Réunir = to gather
Aventure = adventure
La maison de maître = master's house
Restauré = restored
Les braseros = fire pits
En extérieur = outdoors
Le mistral = a strong, cold wind in southern France
La connexion = connection
Le vignoble = vineyard
Vinifie = vinify
La cousine = female cousin
Convivial = friendly, convivial
Le plaisir = pleasure
Le plan de table = seating plan
L'évènement = event
Le dîner d'adieu = farewell dinner
Magnifique = magnificent
Tout le monde = everyone
Mystérieux = mysterious
Les droits = rights
Le coucher de soleil = sunset
Les cuves = vats
Le bon vivant = person who enjoys good food and drink
Étroite = narrow
Merveilleux = marvelous
 
Lili the cat and old wine bottles
As Lili the Cat looked on, Jean-Marc brought out some of his most meaningful bottles to share with friends at the dinner.

Jean-marc speaking kristi photographing
Jean-Marc toasting to his friends and family. Thanks, Isabelle J., for this photo.

REMERCIEMENTS
Following the "Dogs on Board" edition, Ahoy! and special thanks to these readers for their helpful donations:

Betty D.
Pat C.
William C.
Michael P.
Nancy A.
Cathy S.
Joan S.

A Message from KristiOngoing support from readers like you keeps me writing and publishing this free language journal week after week. If you find value in this website and would like to keep it going strong, I kindly ask for your support by making a donation today. Thank you very much for being a part of this community and helping me to maintain this site and its newsletter.

Ways to contribute:
1. Paypal or credit card
2. Zelle®, an easy way to donate and there are no transaction fees.

Or purchase my book for a friend and so help them discover this free weekly journal.
For more online reading: The Lost Gardens: A Story of Two Vineyards and a Sobriety


Flâner: Francophiles love this word (and so do the French)

Brasserie le bolero in Marseille near old port

A stroll through Marseilles, some cheesy characters, a faulty ego and a sack of steel? De quoi faire une histoire amusante. All you need for an entertaining story!

flâner (flah-nay)

    : (to walk) to stroll, wander
    : (to do nothing) to laze, idle, lounge about

These flâner definitions are as charming as the word itself: to amble, lounge, lollygag, to traipse, sashay, drift... May they carry you away to a delightful place today!

Also le flâneur/la flâneuse = idler, lounger

A Day in a FRENCH Life... by Kristin Espinasse

Flaneur for a Day

When Jean-Marc mentioned he had some deliveries in Marseilles, Tuesday, I hitched a ride with him to the city. I had administrative paperwork to take care of, and was grateful the American Consulate could accommodate this last-minute ride share, by penciling me in!

"But I'll have to drop you off early," Jean-Marc warned. "An hour before the consulate opens."

That wouldn't be a problem, I assured my husband, happy not to have to drive or find parking in centre ville. There was only one little pépin, or glitch, to this free ride: I'd be sharing it with a carload of wine and a gigantic surfboard! 

"C'est la planche à voile de Pierre..." Jean-Marc explained, as he lifted the bars beside the armrest so I could crawl to the seat. Crammed in with the board on one side and the bars on the other, my breath suddenly shortened and I sensed a panic attack coming on, years after keeping anxieties at bay. It was time to refocus. Seated there in a sort of windsurfing vise, I reasoned: this is indeed another absurd situation--one only my husband could create!--but it would make for a good story, eventually. Now sit tight!

In Marseilles I learned that absurdity is in the eye of the beholder. Currently beholding a 6 pound set of steel balls, I huffed and puffed carrying out an errand Jean-Marc had given me ("In your spare time, please stop by Fred's office. He has a gift for Max....")

It was the least I could do, deliver Godfather's present to my son. I just wished I had known, beforehand, what was in the package (a set of bocce balls!). I could then have adjusted my planning--and done the pick-up after my hour-long stroll up and down the streets of Marseilles, from Rue Breteuil to the Vieux Port and back to the consulate to catch my ride home.

Then again, those heavy steel balls (or boules or pétanque balls as they are called here) were a kind of carte blanche in the city, opening many doors and opportunities....

Standing in front of Les Arcenaulx, a favorite artsy spot (you can have tea in a room full of books! and then visit the art gallery upstairs). For years I have enjoyed peeping in beyond the great doors, to the escalier lined with old mailboxes--each with a character all her own!

No sooner had I arrived, a three-kilo sack of steel balls dangling from my side, then the gaggle of old ladies in the entry quickly cleared! I now had an unobstructed view of les boîtes à lettres! As the women sent surreptitious glances, I snapped away.

mailboxes - les arcenaulx (c) Kristin Espinasse

Now, a little farther down the square, when I spotted a couple of construction workers in a third-story window, I didn't hesitate to ask for their photo. 

And when they balked, I smiled, lifting my little bag of boules. Photo? or a game of pétanque? With that, they chuckled, hamming it up:

  construction workers in marseille
Then they turned the tables--asking me for my photo! As they pulled out their smartphones I smiled up at them, feeling very small, wondering how gray were my temples, how thin was my skin? It was painful standing there like that, until I let go of my ego just as these two strangers had. 

Beaming from the unexpected exchange, I hugged my camera and package close, and wondered where the lucky charms would lead next.

After strolling past the friendly fishmongers lined up along the Vieux Port (and enjoying the school children who squealed seeing the octopus and other splashing fish on display), I needed a rest. The pétanque balls were heavier than ever and it felt good to set them down on the café table at La Samaritaine--my mom's favorite café, and an institution in Marseilles! 

Seated just inside the front door, I had a wonderful view of the Ferris wheel--and more memories of Mom came flooding back (how she dreams of riding the "Paris Wheel" as she calls the Ferris wheels of France, no matter where they are).

Ferris wheel in marseilles

Lost in a tender rêverie, the waiter's voice was startling to me. "Boules?" he questioned, the appreciation written across his face was unmistakable.

"Oh, they belong to my son," I said, wishing for a wittier response.

And when it came time to pay the bill, the clever response came (only it came from the waiter):

"Voici, Mademoiselle!"

Touché! The mademoiselle remark did wonders for the spirit, young as ever--no matter the weather! (And for his compliment, the waiter got a big tip and who cares whether he was honest!)

Watching the waiter erase the ardoise, or menu board, and add the day's special, I knew it was l'heure: "time," as the French say. Time to go meet my husband. But not without a great sigh of appreciation. The morning stroll through old Marseilles was enough to refuel this creative wagon and its sometimes overserious passenger....

...which brings me back to the car ride and the reminder that the day's voyage had begun with such absurdity! Come to think of it, that's an awfully unfriendly word for what is nothing more than innovation on my husband's part! And creativity leads to more creativity until, before you know it, you are floating through a new experience buoyed by exciting new characters--your heart soaring so high it might pop, but for a handy sack of steel balls to keep you safely grounded.

FRENCH VOCABULARY
la planche à voile = windsurf board
un escalier = stairs
la boîte à lettres = mailbox
c'est l'heure = it's time

son Max playing boules or petanque

Delivered Fred's present to his godson, Max--who immediately put the boules or pétanque balls to good use :-)

A Message from KristiOngoing support from readers like you keeps me writing and publishing this free language journal week after week. If you find value in this website and would like to keep it going strong, I kindly ask for your support by making a donation today. Thank you very much for being a part of this community and helping me to maintain this site and its newsletter.

Ways to contribute:
1. Paypal or credit card
2. Zelle®, an easy way to donate and there are no transaction fees.

Or purchase my book for a friend and so help them discover this free weekly journal.
For more online reading: The Lost Gardens: A Story of Two Vineyards and a Sobriety


le mariage civil + noce + the French are softies when it comes to weddings

The Kiss - Kristin Espinasse Jean-Marc Espinasse (c) Nicolas Bourreli
"The Kiss". Jean-Marc and I celebrated our 19th anniversary with a hike along the sea and a swim at this calanque, in St. Cyr-sur-Mer.


la noce (nohce)

    : wedding, nuptials

faire la noce = to live it up
la nuit de noce = wedding night
le voyage de noces = honeymoon


A Day in a French Life... by Kristin Espinasse

Stopping Traffic

Memories are like bubbles. Full and rounded, the richest of them come rushing to the surface of our minds. I marvel at how my husband remembers some things and I, others. With the help of our individual recollections we knit together the past, enjoying moments from our romantic history.

This week Jean-Marc and I celebrated 19 years of marriage. The French call this anniversary les noces de cretonne. Cretonne being a type of fabric, the symbolism hints at the consistent weaving together of a sacred fil, the thread of love and commitment. 

All this talk of fabric and weaving reminds me of a vivid scene from our first wedding day. This was the town hall wedding or le mariage civil and in our case it took place two months before the church ceremony. It being a more casual gathering, there was none of that superstition about seeing the groom or bride beforehand. In fact, the groom and I drove together to our nuptials.

I'll never forget parading down the streets of Marseilles, in traffic. Grinning from ear to ear, I looked out our car window as Jean-Marc navigated from behind the wheel of his poor man's sports car. The red exterior of his Honda was chipped and dented, but inside might have been finer than silk and leather--the latter being Jean-Marc's just polished shoes (as for my dress, it was silk-like).

As we drove past all the chic boutiques on Rue Paradis on our way to pick up my bridal bouquet, it was thrilling to feel a part of this glamorous world surrounding us. And when Jean-Marc stopped smack in the middle of traffic, one lane away from the fleuriste, I literally stepped out onto Paradise Street.

"You'll have to hurry! There's no place to park," Jean-Marc explained.

I opened the creaky car door and landed in the middle of two lanes of impatient traffic.

It is awkward to be the center of attention, but there on my wedding day--crossing the street before the halted commuters--I all but twirled in my two-tiered dress!  Jaywalking across traffic lanes, light on my heels, I stole in and out of the flower shop, returning to my modern day carriage with an armful of calla lilies. 

The bumper to bumper traffic outside had not budged an inch, but was united in a collective (if imposed) pause. As I passed before the halted traffic, my wedding dress fluttering in the breeze, our parking sin was quickly forgiven as horns began to sound. Allez, les mariés!

The French are such softies when it comes to weddings! I smiled thanks to the audience of strangers and hurried into the car as drivers practiced their patience for one more "Marseilles minute". Even the calla lilies blushed, witnessing that steamy kiss!

 
To read about our church wedding, where the groom feared he was stood up and the bride got stuck to the outside of the church (wind and stucco are bad company for a bridal veil), read the chapter in my book.

French Vocabulary

le fil = string
le mariage civil = civil wedding, registry office wedding
la fleuriste = florist 
allez les mariés! = cheers to the bride and groom!
Marseilles minute = the amount of time (seconds, actually) another car will wait before blaring its horn at a stoplight turned green 

Max and his 18th summer (c) Kristin Espinasse
Max was born 9 months after Jean-Marc and I tied the knot...

Jackie "First Cowboy Hat" (c) Kristin Espinasse
Jackie came next... She turns 16 in September (this post was written in 2013...). This photo was taken recently, in Idaho--where she is spending the month with her grandparents... and trying on her American hat! Whereas I dreamt of France at her age, Jackie's life goal is to live in the States. "France is so old," she moans.

Together Forever (c) Kristin Espinasse
"Through Thick and Thin". Everyone and everything needs closeness. Picture taken in Orange (Vaucluse)

Kristi jean-marc espinasse 1994 Bagatelle wedding in Marseilles France
Those calla lilies and our town hall wedding on July 4th, 1994.

A Message from KristiOngoing support from readers like you keeps me writing and publishing this free language journal week after week. If you find value in this website and would like to keep it going strong, I kindly ask for your support by making a donation today. Thank you very much for being a part of this community and helping me to maintain this site and its newsletter.

Ways to contribute:
1. Paypal or credit card
2. Zelle®, an easy way to donate and there are no transaction fees.

Or purchase my book for a friend and so help them discover this free weekly journal.
For more online reading: The Lost Gardens: A Story of Two Vineyards and a Sobriety


âme

Ame
Fishing boats, or "pointus", at the end of Marseilles... These vessels have almost as much character as the man in today's story. Read on and enjoy.

une âme (am) noun, feminine

  1. soul; spirit; heart; essence

La patience est le sourire de l'âme.
Patience is the soul's smile.
--Philippe Obrecht
.

A Day in a French Life... by Kristin Espinasse

In the tiny fishing village of les Goudes, the second to last port along Marseilles' limestone coast, Jean-Marc admires the small Provençal fishing boats while I snap photos. The names of the wooden pointus have as much character as the boats themselves: the fun-loving "Fanny" has received a new coat of white paint and the thick green border around her "waist" has been filled in again; "Paulette's" sides are a bit chipped which suits her chipie personality; further down the dock, the boats "Saint Antoine" and "Saint Nicolas" rock in silent meditation.

Stepping off the docks on our way out of the port, we hear, "Do you want some wood?" Jean-Marc and I turn toward the voice. "Please, take some," the man in the salt and pepper beard continues. Jean-Marc stares down at a pile of driftwood, or bois flottant. As if reading his mind, the fisherman replies, "It's no good for burning." Before Jean-Marc can decline, the man adds, "but you can make art out of it!"

Jean-Marc and I look at each other quizzically. "I'll show you," the man offers, introducing himself as "Camille" (pronouncing it 'ka-me'). "Venez," Come. I look over to the boats: Fanny and Paulette seem to wink and so we enter the fisherman's cottage.

Inside Camille's cabanon the walls are whitewashed--except for one--which holds the cheminée and is painted azure-blue. To the right of the front door is a matchbox kitchen delineated by a U-shaped counter; the kitchen floor is slightly wider than the fisherman's belly. Knives line the wall below a few dented casseroles. There are two wooden tabourets on the opposite side of the concrete counter, which overlooks the small room with the azure colored wall.

"These chairs," Camille explains, "are called 'assis-debout.' Workers lean back on them, not quite seated (assis), not quite standing (debout)." Camille demonstrates, pretending to shuck oysters on the counter before him.

"Venez." We follow Camille's suggestion and take the stairs which lead to a bedroom just off the wooden mezzanine. We walk single file past the unmade bed to the terrace, which overlooks the tiny port. There, on the balcony, Camille has put more driftwood out to dry. Below, I see Fanny and Paulette who are bumping hips on the sparkling dance floor that covers the sea all the way to Africa; the wooden Saints, Antoine and Nicolas, bob up and down and seem to make the sign of the cross in response to the dancing she-boats.

We leave the terrace, pausing before a chest of drawers. Camille points to the unusual applique that camouflages a lightbulb on the wall above; it reminds me of a buffalo scull from my native Arizona, only this one is made of bois and not bone. "Voilà. You can create something like this," he says, reminding us of the woodpiles bleaching beneath the Mediterranean sun. I admire the applique, wondering how we could ever make something so clever as it.

We return to the room with the azure wall to stand in front of the windows which are level with the boats outside. Camille explains that each year he paints the shutters and each year the Mistral wind strips them all over again. Last year he solved the problem by painting them with a product used on boats like Fanny. I study the painted blue shutters until my eyes land on what looks to be a bookshelf below. "Do you know what that is?" Camille says, noticing my interest. "The lavandières used to wash clothes inside there. The linens were pushed against the accordion base in order to free the dirt from the cloth."

At the end of our visit Camille tells us that the fishing port of Les Goudes is where the soul of Marseilles lies. I wonder if Camille might be the âme of Marseilles incarnate, but I don't tell him this. Instead we thank him for the driftwood and promise to "make art out of it."

Camille

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
la chipie = little devil; le bois flottant = driftwood; le cabanon = cottage; la cheminée = fireplace; la casserole = saucepan; le tabouret = stool; une applique = appliqué (bulb/lamp cover); le bois = wood; la lavandière = woman who handwashes clothes, washerwoman; une âme = soul

       The Pudlo Paris guide--available in English for the first time in 17 years!
       Tune Up Your French: Top 10 Ways to Improve Your Spoken French

:: Audio File ::
Hear my daughter, Jackie, pronounce the word âme and today's quote:
La patience est le sourire de l'âme.
MP3 file: Download ame1.mp3
Wave file: Download ame1.wav

Francophile Gifts and more...:
  In DVD: Visions of France
  In music... Provence: A Romantic Journey
  Gathered from the salt beds of Camargue: Fleur De Sel

French Expressions:
une âme soeur = a kindred soul
rendre l'âme = to give up the ghost
se donner corps et âme à quelqu'un = to give oneself body and soul to someone

A Message from KristiOngoing support from readers like you keeps me writing and publishing this free language journal week after week. If you find value in this website and would like to keep it going strong, I kindly ask for your support by making a donation today. Thank you very much for being a part of this community and helping me to maintain this site and its newsletter.

Ways to contribute:
1. Paypal or credit card
2. Zelle®, an easy way to donate and there are no transaction fees.

Or purchase my book for a friend and so help them discover this free weekly journal.
For more online reading: The Lost Gardens: A Story of Two Vineyards and a Sobriety


un filleul

Filleul
(photo of my husband, Jean-Marc, and his filleul, Matthieu)

Easy_speak_frenchEazyspeak French teaches 800 vocabulary words; quickly extends conversational skills

un filleul (fee-yul) noun, masculine
1. godson, godchild

Also:
filleule = goddaughter
filleul de guerre = adoptive son (in wartime)

Mon filleul va bientôt partir, ainsi la guerre va devenir plus personnelle pour moi. My godson is going over soon, so the war's about to get personal for me. --Garry Trudeau.

                                                                          Column_5
"I love Marseilles. When I was young, I loved to feel the Mistral wind blowing through me. I would stand still and just let it whip through my hair. I can no longer bear the Mistral. But I still love Marseilles." --Mme. Chollet

In the spice-scented salon* of the Chollet's home, I marvel at four generations of French women, one as beautiful as the next. The great-grandmother, with her dark chocolate brown hair and large clip-on earrings, recounted her passion for the windy city. Curiously, her lust for Massalia* skipped a generation, to her granddaughter. Her very own daughter (seated beside her, dressed all in black and looking very Cannoise*) prefers La Côte d'Azur, explaining, "Les Marseillais* are violent like the wind that blows through their city! The wind is mild in Cannes."

I sat facing my friend Corinne, her mother, and grandmother, thinking about how my feelings for a city that I once called home had changed. I didn't always like Marseilles. At one point I despised it. Returning now, as a visitor, I am enchanted by this historical town founded by the Greeks over 2600 years ago.

Earlier, as we motored through the 8th arrondissement, past the Bagatelle (where Jean-Marc and I were first married, but that is another story...) I found myself wondering how, newly arrived, I could not see the charm and beauty of this ancient city. Back then, Marseilles felt like a perpetual attack on this desert rat. (I would not recommend moving from warm, dry Phoenix to cold, windy Marseilles; Chicago to Marseilles, why not, but Phoenix/Marseilles--forget it!)

The cruel wind, the absence of a "user friendly" anything, the aggressive, unsympathetic government employees who threatened to deport me, and the lack of edible tortillas were just a few elements that wrecked havoc on the successful integration of this Phoenician, in a town founded by the Phocaeans.*

But now, 14 years later, I can't help but be caught up in the whirl of this action-packed, passionate, multi-ethnic ville.* Marseilles IS violent. Like its famous Mistral wind, it kicks, pushes, whirls, stomps, spits, and sometimes slams, daring you to cling right back to it, for the ride of your life.

My first child came into this world via Marseilles, kicking and screaming like the wind, which might explain his constant joie de vivre. (My daughter was born in Aix-en-Provence, and is reserved like the Aixois, or citizens of Aix.)

But, returning to our story, and to the Chollet's cozy salon, we were about to celebrate the birthday of a little guy who had just turned two. Matthieu, pronounced "ma-tyeuh," is my husband's filleul* (and the birthday boy in question).

Matthieu's mother, Corinne, had prepared five desserts for the celebration and, knowing what a good cook she is, I got in line illico* to sample the gateau au chocolat,* crumble au poires,* Madeleines, gateau au yaourt* and a brownie...or two.

Next we watched the birthday boy (dressed in a t-shirt that read "J'ai 2 ans!" I'm 2!) boogie and chanter.* And what did he sing? A song about St. Tropez! I take it that passion for Marseilles has just skipped another generation.

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References: le salon (m) = the living room; Massalia = Marseilles' original name; une Cannoise = a woman from Cannes; les Marseillais = the people of Marseilles; Phocaeans = inhabitants of an ancient district of central Greece; une ville (f) = a city; un filleul (m) = godson; illico = right away; gâteau au chocolat (m) = chocolate cake; crumble aux poires = pear crumble; gâteau au yaourt (m) = yogurt cake; chanter = to sing

Hear French spoken:
Listen to Jean-Marc recite today's quote: Download filleul2.wav
Mon filleul va bientôt partir, ainsi la guerre va devenir plus personnelle pour moi.

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