Another hurricane after Helene, terrible Milton hit Bradenton where we escape winter weather. We were fortunate. Our home is intact. Only our shed and fence are toast. A huge tree limb crashed onto our shed, knocking off part of its roof and walls and crushing some the wooden fence. Considering Milton’s size and force, we were blessed to escape with just that. Friends on barrier islands weren’t as fortunate. Rising water and sand rushed in with a fury that’s ruined homes and businesses. Some have lost all but their lives, fortunate to have evacuated.
It’s amazing to see peoples’ resilience, like in Vermont with powerful storms. I well remember when Irene hit. Her fierce wind and record rainfall flooded Vermont and changed our terrain. Even so, Vermont’s a safe haven compared to Florida’s disappearing act.
Our Avignon friends have come to Allauch to stay for most of October.
I’ve been cooking to feed our crew (what I think is) à la Provençale. I made a thick potage (soup) with broth from chicken bones and leeks. I added cabbage, carrots, zucchini, red pepper, parsley, garlic, cumin, rosemary from the garden, and chick pea flour as a thickener. I was worried it had too many ingredients since Colette always says “simple is better with good ingredients.” But even former chef Jean-Paul devoured every spoonful.
A gluten free macaroni dish included mushrooms, sausage, garlic, zucchini, red pepper, parsley and leeks. I made my first roux sauce with butter and flour from chick peas instead of wheat. I broiled the dish with cheese on top.
Anne and Sebastien invited us Saturday, and we hosted Anne for lunch today. She roasted vegetables in a Provençal dish and served them with a tasty roast chicken. I cooked something similar with a cheesy cream sauce with steak haché and local mushrooms.
It’s fun to use Provençal veggies because they’re so fresh and flavorful. The markets are filled with small farmers’ produce, and specialty cheeses from local cheesemakers. Lively conversations add to the enjoyment and give a sense of the local pulse.
We wandered uphill from Allauch’s old town market to a café where locals gather. It seems to be the village center so we ordered coffee and sat down. I noticed two huge paintings on the walls whose varnish had browned from a century of age. No one knew about their origin but they seemed to depict Allauch’s history.
“A man in his eighties the other day recognized people he knew as a boy”, a couple nearby shared with me.
We weren’t alone at Pichaurus Park when we hobbled along the pebbly path. We were a comic site indeed—with Colette’s broken knee, Jean-Paul’s leg pain, Duane’s recent back strain and my unbalanced walk. Sportsmen and women of all ages and children walked or ran on the trail. Even those in strollers and wheel chairs happily bounced along.
I greeted people along the way. They knew my accent was foreign. Most mistake me for English. I tell them I’m American.
“I have a cousin in California,”
“I visited Washington years ago.”
“I want to go to New York,” they some say.
“Where do you live?” they always ask.
“In Vermont and Florida.”
“Oh, la la, La Floride!” They know about our recent past but love to learn about Vermont since they have a soft spot for the mountains. Many are avid hikers and mountain bikers just like in Killington.
Marguerite Jill Dye is an artist and writer who divides her time between Killington and Bradenton, Florida where she exhibits her art in The Spa at the Woods and The Island Crêperie which was in the path of Hurricanes Helene and Milton. She loves to hear from her readers at jilldyestudio@aol.com. Her column is online with updates from France until the end of October.
