A study on the French people’s obsession with food.

Wednesday, June 15, 2022

Another beautiful day in Provence. Each morning starts off on the cool side but by late morning the warm sun makes its presence felt and anything not in the shade starts to bake. The days get hot, high 80s today, forecast calls for high 90’s by the weekend.

Leslie gets an early start and heads out to the bike trail for a ride, not a serious one but something to get her feet wet. These bike trails meander all over the hills and valleys of this pretty country side.

For me a lazy morning followed by an errand or two to stock up on food supplies for my friends Craig and JoEllen De Porter driving in tomorrow from Basil, Switzerland for the weekend. About noon time I figured I would head up to town to grab one of these little ham and cheese sandwiches they sell around here. No “fast food” available in town, so I found a small little brasserie called St André. I sat down, read the menu and ordered another melon salad with jambon cru similar to the one we had in Cavaillon. Filling but light and the best choice on the rather heavy list of lunch time offerings.

I finished the delightful lunch and asked the waitress in my broken French if the melons were from Cavaillon, supposedly the best melons in France? She responded in her broken English that she didn’t think so, they were a different type. She finished the credit card transaction and told me to wait as she headed to the back of the restaurant. After a few minutes she motions to me to come to her, she is on the phone. She says the chef told her the melons are indeed from Cavaillon, ok I got my question answered and yes they were good.

In most places that would have been it. But this is France. She couldn’t leave it there.

The waitress continued in animated detail that the best Cavaillon melons are in Robion at a small market called the Panier Fleuri just outside the town of Cavaillon off the main road across from a boulangerie. “These are the best, they sell the restaurants in the area, they test you know with a probe in the melon for sugar. They are sweetest!” She grabs an old restaurant bill jots down the info. hands it to me and says goodbye with a friendly smile.

I thought about a book I recently read, “A Year in Provence” by Peter Mayle an Englishman who moved to Provence. He said the French celebrate food and drink more than any other people. Every discussion here revolves around the best recipe, the best honey, the best fruit, the best restaurant, the best wine. I just received a first hand lesson.

The passion with which she spoke was infectious, there is no way I’m getting my melon from the local French Publix.

Of course the next morning, Leslie and I are off on a quest to Robion for the best melons of Cavaillon!

We found the market, bought some melons, brought them home and along with our friends enjoyed the sweetest and juiciest melons I’ve ever eaten.