Guitarras – El Arte de la Artesania

Perfectly mitered purflings…French Polish…book-matched sets….scalloped bracing – are you excited?  Maybe not yet, but today I want to share a little bit about one of my great loves – guitars (and for this post, I’ll focus primarily on acoustic guitars).  Not the music of guitars (which I also love and could write an entire post solely on that); not the playing of guitars (I do play my guitars, but I’m a mediocre player at best); but the instruments themselves.  I apologize in advance – this is a long post, and in the future, I may consider splitting up posts like these into several installments.  I hope you find it enjoyable and informative, especially for those that admire guitars but don’t know that much about how they are crafted.

People who make guitars are called luthiers, and if you asked a gathering of luthiers (yes, there are such things!) whether they consider themselves artists, I think the clear majority would say “no”, that they are craftsman.  But I would suggest that surely there is artistry in their craft – hence the title of this blog post.  I’m not sure this applies to all luthiers, or all guitars – but certainly I find myself admiring some guitars as I would a work of art.  Some of my friends would argue that that only highlights my lack of understanding of what art is – and I’d probably agree with that.  But the great Brahms once said “Without craftsmanship, inspiration is a mere reed shaken in the wind.”  And there are aesthetic choices that go way beyond the production of sound or tone when making a guitar.  For me, the way that these choices integrate into the instrument can produce beauty that is completely independent of how the guitar sounds.  Those who are fans of Robert Pirsig’s great book “Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance” will understand what I mean.  Of course, there are guitar players out there that cringe at folks like me – they see guitars as purely instruments used to convey their own art – their music – and don’t really care, necessarily, how the guitar looks.  But I do play my guitars (only for myself, and not very well) – its just that I have a further interest and love in their aesthetic aspects.  I like their shape (clearly inspired by women); I like the way they combine materials (wood; steel; bone; shell); I like the way they smell (certain types of wood have distinctive fragrances even on a finished guitar); I like the way they feel and respond when you play them (whoa, as I wrote this it started to seem a little…erotic – I’m not going there, but others have written about this as well).  And once I learned a little more about the crafting of guitars, I came to appreciate them even more – the extreme attention to detail in constructing a well-made guitar is amazing.

The various parts of a guitar make up the form that contributes to the function – producing sound through plucking strings.  The top of the guitar is the soundboard that vibrates sympathetically from the energy of the strings and increases the projection of sound.  The back and sides form the body of the guitar, along with the soundboard.  The soundhole provides another avenue for sound waves to project from the guitar.  The neck provides a structural component that, along with the bridge and headstock, contain the tremendous pressures imposed by the strings.  The fretboard allows for changing the pitch of individual strings.  The nut guides the strings to their end points on the tuners, which are mechanical devices to allow for tuning.  When building a guitar, all these components must be constructed in just the right way to produce the desired sound or tone – and each luthier, while generally building from a similar “template” if they are producing a 6-string acoustic guitar, will construct their guitars in a unique or proprietary manner.  Beyond the form, there are numerous aesthetic choices, and some that are combinations of aesthetic and function.  The choice of material for tuner buttons, for example, is purely an aesthetic choice.  Or the various woods and other materials that make up the rosette (the decorative ring around the sound hole).  But wood choices for the soundboard, and the back and sides, are a combination of function (different woods, typically called “tonewoods”, produce different tones) and aesthetics.  So, the specification for a custom-built guitar follows a pattern which considers both elements – function and aesthetics.

Tone

Let me digress for a moment to talk about one of my favourite online forums for acoustic guitars – the Acoustic Guitar Forum or AGF.  This is a great resource for all lovers of acoustic guitars – for players, from beginners to professionals; and for luthiers as well – I highly encourage you to visit the site.  But – they can be a hard-core bunch and will argue over the most minute detail – and tone is one of the most popular and divisive topics.  I daresay there is a post somewhere on the forum that argues that the choice of material for tuner buttons contributes to the tone of the guitar.  While there may be some validity to the argument that all parts of a guitar somehow contribute to its tone, I would argue that the human ear cannot perceive the difference.  Well – certainly not my ear.  As I’ve gotten older, I’ve found that I’ve regressed with respect to discerning visual and aural quality differences.  Years ago I was a true A/V nut – I had to have the latest technology; I would argue vigorously about the tonal superiority of one speaker vs another; I would fiddle with various adjustments on my equipment to produce, in my opinion, the most superior audio or visual experience, and convince myself that I could tell the difference.  You know the type – or maybe you don’t.  The interesting thing is, as technology became cheaper and cheaper, it became more accessible.  It also became more ubiquitous.  And as I got older, I found that I cared less and less about fine distinctions of quality.  Even cheap TV’s these days produce stunning picture.  The same is generally true for audio – and I think we care less about quality than we do about convenience these days.  Anyway, I’ve gone off on a tangent – but the point is, as I’ve gotten older, I find I care less about super fine distinctions of tonal quality.  At the end of the day, there are so many other variables that are going to contribute to that sound reaching our ears, and then our brains, that I think this obsessive focus on creating a particular tone is a fool’s errand.

The Luthier’s Process

I can hear Steve Kinnaird’s tongue in cheek response to this section title – “Process?….I didn’t know we had a process!”.  Steve is being tongue in cheek – he is one of the finest luthiers in the US, and currently building a guitar for me.  As for process, from my experience it really varies from luthier to luthier.  There are some that build guitars in a serial fashion, focusing on one at time, and not starting a new one until the current one is finished.  There are some that work in small batches – essentially doing several guitars at once, and then moving on to another batch.  And there are even some that do their annual production in a completely batch fashion.  Jim Olson , arguably one of the most well-known and respected custom luthiers in the world, currently builds around 30-40 guitars a year – by himself.  He moves through this process by completing all the component parts, and assembly, and finishing, in batches.  For example, one week he’ll only work on necks – he will complete all the necks for his entire year’s commissions over the course of several weeks.  He’ll then move on to all the other components in batch fashion – cutting, sanding, and bracing the soundboards; forming the back and sides; etc.  This allows him to focus on one task at a time.  I find the whole process fascinating.  A luthier’s workshop will have a large variety of tools – some powered, some not – large, small – and typically very well organized.  The attention to detail is spectacular – tiny mitered joints, for example, on purflings (an ornamental border) and bindings (the edges where the top and bottom of the guitars are joined to the sides).  I once had a friend who swore that these couldn’t be inlayed wood, they had to be painted on because the lines and tolerances were so tight!  No – unless you have an inexpensive factory produced guitar, those purfling lines are inlayed and mitered by hand.  Prior to the build process, there is another whole process between the luthier and the buyer – the specification process.  Depending upon the luthier, this can either be very custom, with many, many choices and back/forth; or it can be minimal, where you pick a standard model with standard features (the guitar is still handmade, but to a standard specification).  When I had my Olson guitar built, other than picking the wood, and fret marker, I pretty much went with a standard Olson SJ model.  However, with my current build, I am very focused and involved in having Steve and Ryan (Ryan Middlebrook, another luthier who works with Steve) build a very personal, custom guitar.

Wood

It all starts with wood.  Acoustic guitars are, at their core, wooden instruments – and I think a large part of my love of the artistry of guitars is my love of wood.  I love that it’s an organic material that was once alive.  It’s unique – no two pieces of wood are identical.  There are an almost endless variety of woods, with lots of different characteristics – color; grain; density; porosity; strength; etc.  Wood is also one of the things I love about Maine – we are a state with vast timber reserves; we are covered with it!  If I think about Maine, I think about forest; coast; stone – those are its basic elements.  Maine also is home to another one of the US’s best luthiers – Dana Bourgeois.  With his workshop in Lewiston, Dana and his team have been building world class instruments for over 40 years.  Dana has written extensively about wood in guitar building, I once owned one of Dana’s guitars – #1 in a series of 15 guitars he built for his 40th anniversary building guitars.  A mahogany guitar with a torrefied (more on that later) Adirondack spruce top, the guitar was stunning.  Unfortunately, I never really bonded with the guitar – for my playing style and sound preference, it never really fit for me.  But the wood – look at the figuring in the mahogany; the grain in the soundboard; the exotic look of the fretboard and bridge, using a wood known as snakewood.  More than anything in a guitar, I love the way that contrasting woods can come together to produce sound and beauty in one package.  Years ago, acoustic guitars were primarily made from rosewood (East Indian or Brazilian) for back and sides; and spruce (typically Sitka spruce) for the soundboard.  Yes, there were certainly other woods used – mahogany; cedar; etc. but these wood choices made up the large majority of guitars.  Over time, unfortunately, many of the once common woods used for guitars have become endangered and protected.  Brazilian rosewood was the first to get widespread protection, but others have followed.  To be clear, the over harvesting and poor management of these trees was not driven primarily by the guitar industry (which represents a tiny portion of the use of these woods) – but nevertheless, it is becoming more difficult to source these once common woods.  I am fortunate enough to have a Brazilian rosewood guitar built by Jim Olson – it looks and sounds beautiful – that was built using wood harvested prior to the restrictions.  However, it’s an instrument that I won’t travel with outside of the US (it will probably never see Argentina), because I won’t risk it getting seized by customs (even though it was legally harvested, I won’t risk an overzealous customs agent putting me through months of grief).  But the wood choices have really expanded as luthiers have become increasingly creative and adventurous in their choice of woods – woods like Bubinga; Pernambuco; Sycamore; Koa; Cocobolo; Kauri; Myrtlewood.  For a good luthier, his/her wood locker is core to their craft.

Shape/Size

Did you always assume that guitars were more or less standard with respect to shape and size?  I once did, but over time I’ve found that there are a wide variety of choices.  The basic choices include width and length of the fretboard; number of frets; size and shape of the neck; depth of the body; and shape of the body (if the body is slightly hourglass shape, the upper bout is the top part of the hourglass, the lower bout is the bottom part), including width of the upper bout, lower bout, and waist.  There isn’t a standard nomenclature for shape and body size – you’ll see designations like OO, OOO, OM, Dreadnought, Parlor; SJ; Jumbo; etc. – and while it gives people a sense of the shape/size, each luthier will have his own models and specifications.  The dreadnought shape/size was (and probably still is in terms of numbers) the most popular in the US.  All my earlier guitars were dreadnoughts, but as I have aged (and have shoulder issues), and my guitar playing style has evolved, I now prefer smaller guitars.  I think this is a typical pattern, and I suspect most luthiers will tell you that they rarely do dreadnoughts for custom commissions.  Take a look at Ed Sheeran – a fantastic guitarist by the way.  He uses a ¾ size guitar made by Martin, called an LX1.  In addition, luthiers these days are finding additional ways to accommodate comfort, particularly for us old guys!  Some will incorporate a bevel on the transition from side to top, instead of a 90-degree angle, to provide additional comfort.

Soundboard

The soundboard is the thin top wood of the guitar.  This is the component of the guitar that contributes the most to the overall tone of a guitar.  The characteristics a luthier is looking for is light but stiff, with enough elasticity to produce harmonics and overtones.  Historically, Spruce was the “go to” material for most guitar soundboards, and in particular, Sitka Spruce.  There are, however, many other materials that are commonly used, each providing different tonal characteristics – including Cedar, Maple Redwood, Mahogany, and Koa.  Luthiers also select soundboard materials for aesthetics, some of which contribute to the tonal characteristics (such as uniformity of grain).  Dana Bourgeois, the Maine luthier I mentioned before, is a strong proponent of “tonal tapping” for selecting the best soundboards.  In this process, he acoustically taps the soundboards in different locations, listening for certain harmonics and resonance, and then selecting those that meet his acoustic criteria.  Others don’t believe in tonal tapping at all – and focus instead on the bracing used for the soundboard – each luthier uses a proprietary design for their bracing, attempting to produce a consistent tone in their instruments.  The braces are typically custom shaped for each soundboard – with the intent on minimizing weight and maximizing strength and stiffness in certain directions.  I’m not sure about tap tones, but I do believe that 70% or more of the tonal characteristics of an acoustic guitar come from the soundboard – so this is where I focus on the type of tonal characteristics I’m looking for – whether it’s the sweeter, broader range of a Sitka Spruce or the warmer, lusher tones of a cedar, the soundboard wood choice is going to define the general tone of your guitar.  There has also been a trend to offer soundboard tops that have been torrefied – essentially cooked in a low oxygen environment.  The idea is to replicate the effects of aging by cooking off some of the volatile compounds in the soundboard.  It also produces a wonderful dark shade to a lighter Spruce top.  I’m not sure that I necessarily believe in the ageing effects of torrefaction – but I do like the visual aspects.  My Bourgeois had a torrefied Adirondack Spruce top  – you can see how the torrefication process darkened the wood.

Back/Sides

The back and side woods on an acoustic guitar are also tonewoods – their selection will drive, in part, the tonal characteristics of the guitar, although not nearly to the same extent as the soundboard. If the soundboard contributes 70% of the tone of the guitar, I think the back and sides contribute about 25% of the tone.  Others would vehemently disagree with this observation – these distinctions on what contributes to tone are endlessly argued.  But for me, that’s about the right contribution.  So, while the back and sides are also selected with some regard to the tonal characteristics they will contribute, the aesthetic qualities are probably a much bigger driver here.  The selection of woods for the back and sides is much broader than for the top – and these days, there is quite a large range indeed.  I’ve already mentioned some of these, but the list, as I’ve found, is seemingly endless.  In addition to the general type of wood, there are also many grain distinctions – from general straight grain woods to those that are highly figured – quilting; spalting; burled; curly; etc.  Interestingly enough, while some of these are a result of the way the wood is milled, many are the result of injury or disease (like burled walnut) or fungi (like spalted maple).  Another visually striking characteristic of certain woods is chatoyance, or the cats eye effect.  This is similar to the light refraction you might see in certain gemstones, like tiger’s eye.  The effect in wood can be stunning, and is enhanced by polishing and finishing techniques.  Again, like with the soundboard, selection of the back and side wood is partially driven by tone you are looking for.  Density plays a large part here – I tend to like the sounds produced by more dense woods, like Rosewoods.  For me, they produce more overtones and harmonics than less dense woods like Mahogany and Maple (although I have a wonderful 12-string maple guitar that has a beautiful crisp, sound).  In addition, there is a tonal interaction between the top wood, and the back and sides, that must be considered when selecting woods for your guitar.  Finally, one thing I like to point out to people – when you are playing a guitar, the back of that guitar is towards your body – nobody sees it.  Yet many of us spend a lot of time trying to pick the perfect back from a visual perspective.  I think this demonstrates how many of us love the craftsmanship and artistry of the instrument – even for elements that we only see when we aren’t playing the guitar.

 

Fretboard/Bridge/Saddle/Nut

Some of the other components of a guitar also contribute to functional and tonal qualities, but not to the same extent as for the top, back, and sides.  For fretboards, the wood of choice has historically been ebony – and for me, this is still my favourite material for the fretboard.  For the fretboard, you need something that can take a beating (so you want hard and dense) and is smooth (so tight pores and oily).  Rosewood is also a fretboard material choice, but I prefer Ebony.  There are increasingly some exotic choices as well, that can provide some visual contrast – Snakewood is one of these, although it’s a material some luthiers find difficult to work.  The bridge is the component that transfers (along with the saddle) the vibrations of the strings to the soundboard, so you want something that doesn’t absorb vibrations – you want hard and dense like the fretboard.  And again, Rosewood and Ebony are the woods of choice for the fretboard.  However recently, I chose a very unusual bridge for my latest guitar – it’s made from African Blackwood and has a section of sapwood (lighter colored) running along it.  The African Blackwood has similar characteristics as Ebony.  There are many different shapes to bridges – these are generally aesthetic choices.  Here are a few interesting ones.  The saddle is the thinner vertical material wedged into the bridge which keeps the strings a certain distance from the fretboard (this distance, known as the action, is very important in playing – too high and it’s difficult to fret the strings, too low and the strings will hit the frets when vibrating, causing a buzz.  For the saddle, the materials are typically a synthetic (usually one called Tusq); bone; or ivory (sometimes fossil ivory).  While I’m not too selective on this component, I typically prefer bone or ivory, as I believe that synthetic materials tend to absorb too much of the energy in the strings.  The nut is the strip of material at the top of the fretboard that the strings angle over prior to terminating on the tuners, and sets the spacing of the strings (which is very important to comfort and playing style).  Materials are similar as those for saddles.

Neck

Guitar necks are made from a wide range of materials and come in a wide range of shapes/sizes.  Since this component contributes significantly to comfort of the fretting hand, its important to get the shape right. It’s hard to comment in detail on this – you really have to try different guitars to understand.  With respect to materials, though, I generally leave this to the luthier.  The neck is extremely important to long term playability and stability of the guitar – it holds a lot of stress, and this component really is extremely important.  As a result, I generally prefer luthiers to use a laminated neck – one that is made of 3-5 ply’s, often with a rosewood center and maple or mahogany ply’s.  You need the neck to not warp from the significant stress they hold over a long period of time, and a neck carved from a single block of wood is usually too weak in some direction to provide stability over time.  One thing that many non-guitar folks don’t realize is that there is a steel rod down the center of the neck, called the truss rod.  The truss rod, which is typically adjustable, provides additional strength and can be adjusted for tension.

Headstock/Tuners

The headstock (also called peghead) is the piece of wood at the top of the neck, which holds the guitar tuners (also called tuning machines, machine heads, tuning pegs, or tuning gears).  Headstocks are typically a separate piece of wood, glued to the neck with a joint, and usually have a veneer wood on the front and back.  They can either be solid or slotted – I don’t really like the slotted style, but many guitar players prefer the look.  Again, for materials, I usually let the luthier choose the core material, and I select the veneer material.  The headstock shape is typically unique to the luthier, and the headstock is also where the luthier usually puts his/her logo (typically an inlay).  As for the tuners, you will find lots of arguments and discussions on this component as well.  There are many good manufacturers of tuners, in many different styles.  I like Gotoh tuners, but there are other good tuners (Waverly and Grovers are good as well).  It’s important to get high quality tuning machines – you want the guitar to tune easily and stay in tune.

Purflings; Bindings; Rosettes; backstrip; end graft; heel; pickguard; bridge pins

There are lots of other little details associated with an acoustic guitar.  Bindings and purflings provide protective and decorative elements to the edges of the various guitar surfaces.  The rosette, around the soundhole, is purely decorative.  The soundhole itself does provide some sound transmittal, although not as much as many people think.  However, there are different sizes you can choose.  Increasingly popular are sound ports – these are additional holes in the sides of the guitars, which allow the guitar player to hear more of what his/her audience hears.  I don’t have any guitars with sound ports, however my current build with Mr. Kinnaird will have one.  End grafts and heels provide additional surfaces for decorative/protective elements.  Pickguards can also provide protection and decoration – but I generally don’t like pickguards, so leave them off (and I’m not an aggressive strummer).  Bridge pins are the little pins on the bridge that stabilize the strings in the bridge.  I tend to view them as decorative elements, but some people get very passionate about bridge pin material’s contribution to sound.

Inlays (Bling!)

And finally, we have the purely decorative elements of inlays – generally referred to as bling.  This is where personal tastes dominate – some people like a lot of bling, others do not.  I tend to be somewhat conservative.  Even on inlays for fret position markers, I prefer to be very understated.  I do like some inlay, and it’s a great way to personalize a guitar.  Inlay materials can vary as much as the creativity of the luthier or inlay artist – including abalone, copper, steel, silver, wood, enamel.  I find that some luthiers like to do there own inlays and are inlay artists in their own right.  Others prefer to work with a specialized inlay artist for anything other than simple inlays.  Larry Robinson is one of the world’s foremost inlay artist – he has literally written the book on inlays (The Art of Inlay).  Martin guitars commissioned him to inlay Martin’s 1,000,000th guitar (the picture that leads this section)– while the inlay work is amazing, that one is not my style.  Here is another Larry Robinson inlay on a rosette – this one was a clever M.C. Escher-ish fish and bird pattern.  My preference is to utilize some inlays for accents – I like the look of Blue Paua (a type of abalone) purfling inlays around the body of the guitar, an even outlining the fretboard and the headstock.  In the evening, these purflings look spectacular – they subtly glow.  In addition, I like to have a small inlay done on the truss rod cover.  The truss rod cover is a small, typically triangular shaped, piece of wood on the headstock which covers the access hole for the truss rod.  It is generally made of ebony, and is a great place to do a small, personalized inlay.  For my all Koa guitar, I commissioned a wood inlay from Bill Nichols, a well-known inlay artist to play off the Hawaiian wood – very beautiful, understated, and personal/unique to my guitar.  For my Olson guitar, I was fortunate that Jim Olson works with Larry Robinson and was able to refer me to Larry.  I told Larry I wanted to come up with something that reminded me of Maine, so I had sent him some pictures, including a few of Hawthorne trees with berries in winter.  He came back with a sketch, and then completed this beautiful inlay with African Pink Ivory, Koa, and white mother of pearl.

 

The Build

The build process for the luthier includes hundreds of distinct steps, from selecting and cutting woods, to finishing.  This includes routing, sanding, gluing, scraping, cutting, binding…a dizzying array of steps!  These instruments are handcrafted, and the work that goes into them is stunning.  Rather than describe every step, I’m just going to show you several pictures (some from my builds) which give you a sense of the craftsmanship involved.  The work is physically demanding – for example, scraping down purflings to make them flush with the surface is done by hand. Mark Hatcher, a luthier in New Hampshire, builds some of the most outstanding guitars I have ever seen.  He is not only a great craftsman, he is an artist.  I was particularly taken by a recent guitar Mark built, called the “Lullaby Guitar”, for a player who wanted a small guitar he could use to play for his children at night.  Take a look at the rosette Mark designed and inlayed, along with his very unique, and exquisite headstock design.  He is truly an artist.  One of the last steps is finishing.  Like with inlays, some luthiers prefer to send their guitars off to a specialist for finishing.  This is a much more important step than many people realize.  Not purely decorative, finishing must be done carefully to preserve the sound qualities of the tonewoods used in construction.  There are many different finishing materials preferred by luthiers, including resins, lacquers, and shellacs.  Most standard finishes are sprayed on, but some Luthiers prefer using a technique known as French Polish, which involves multiple coats of shellac that are rubbed into the wood – it is a demanding process full of technique.  The finish can make or break a guitar – apply too much and you will dampen the sound; apply too little and the wood will not be protected.  Apply incorrectly and you will see little blemishes, sometimes called “checking”, appear over time.  The luthier is looking for the thinnest, strongest finish that balances protection, beauty, longevity, and tonal characteristics.

As detailed (and excruciatingly long!) as this post has been, there is actually even more to building a guitar than I’ve mentioned here.  I’m passionate about guitars – this obviously stems first from my love of guitar music (rooted, I am sure, from my upbringing in the 60’s and 70’s), and has, over time, extended to the artistry and craftsmanship inherent in building these amazing instruments.  Every time I pick up one of my instruments, I admire the work that went into their construction – many, many hours of care and attention to detail.  Based on what I suspect are the ages of most of the participants on the AGF, I fear that there is a younger generation that does not have the same connection to these instruments as I think my generation has.  I hope that’s not true, and I hope there are some of you that will get just a little more intrigued about guitars, and maybe one of you will commission a build of your own one day.  While this post has been focused on the craft of guitar building, I hope some of you are inspired to at least learn to play.  You don’t have to start with a luthier-built guitar – in fact, you’d be crazy to do that!  There are a few guitars I recommend for beginners – good guitars under $500 that you’ll be happy to own for a lifetime, and not afraid of the occasional dings and scratches – just contact me and I’ll provide some recommendations.  Some of you have probably said “Someday I’d love to learn how to play guitar” – well get started!  Make someday, today!

Credits

We are fortunate to be living in a time where we have such extraordinary luthiers out there, and I encourage you to google around and learn more about their amazing work.  As I previously mentioned, the Acoustic Guitar Forum is a great place to start, particularly their Custom Shop section.  Some of the luthiers I particularly admire are Jim Olson, Steve Kinnaird, Maine’s own Dana Bourgeios, and Mark Hatcher.  Many of the amazing pictures in this post are from Mark Hatcher – I don’t know if Mark takes his own photos, but if so, he can add photography to his list of many talents!  Larry Robinson is one of the most respected inlay artists in the US, and I’m proud to have a Larry Robinson inlay!  Bill Nichols also does wonderful inlay work.  There are many other luthiers out there doing stunning work – people like John Kinnaird (Steve’s Brother), Bruce Sexauer, Tim McKnight, David Wren, John Osthoff, Stephen Strahm, Bruce Petros, Ryosuke Kobayashi, and many, many others – do yourself a favor and check out their work.

 

 

Ostras – Supera tus Miedos

“As I ate the oysters with their strong taste of the sea and their faint metallic taste that the cold white wine washed away, leaving only the sea taste and the succulent texture, and as I drank their cold liquid from each shell and washed it down with the crisp taste of the wine, I lost the empty feeling and began to be happy and to make plans.”

Ernest Hemingway, ‘A Moveable Feast’

Oysters!   Do you love them?  We do!  Something tells me, though, that many of you have a very different opinion on this.  Perhaps no other food creates such a dividing line – people either love them (like me) or detest them – and there aren’t a lot of in-betweens.  Now, I will guess that many of you that say you hate oysters, have never tried an oyster.  Which is a shame, because they are truly one of the most enjoyable foods we eat – and I hope to be able to convince a few of you to give them a try.  I love oysters, in part, because of the way they express their terroir (pronounced ter-wahr) – the conditions under which a food is grown or produced that give it its unique characteristics.  Terroir is a sense of place expressed through taste.  This is a word that has historically been used to describe wines, but it has broader application to all foods.  All natural foods that are grown or produced exhibit terroir.  If I have a Chantenay carrot from two different farms, they will each have slight differences in flavor, reflecting all the specific growing conditions of each farm – type of soil, how often they are watered, type of nutrients, when they were harvested, etc. – even though they may be identical varieties of carrot.  Will the differences in flavor be distinct?  Probably not.  For most foods, these differences are going to be subtle.  But we live in a world where terroir is increasingly valued and celebrated.  That’s why you see so much focus on highlighting terroir on menus these days – for example, these aren’t just any tomatoes in the salad, these are “Eckerton Hill Farms Heirloom tomatoes”.  Yes, sometimes it gets a bit annoying with these lengthy menu descriptions.  But with oysters, almost more so than any other food, you really taste…distinctly…their terroir (well, I guess technically it’s their “merroir”).  That’s what makes them so interesting and joyful for me – the ability to distinctly taste, in a single bite, the tiny part of the ocean that this little guy came from.

Now, I don’t want to bore you with a long history of oysters as a food.  Rather, I’ll just bore you with more quotes!  Jonathan Swift, that wonderful ironic 18th century satirist once said “He was a bold man that first ate an oyster” – and while that may be true, others quickly followed, because oysters have been an important food for maritime communities for thousands of years.  While once the food of the common man, oysters today are, unfortunately, a bit of a luxury item.  Go into any oyster or raw bar today, and you’ll likely see a chalk board or daily menu with anywhere from a few selections to as many as 15 or more selections of oysters.  Malpeques, Wellfleets, Bagaduces, Duxburys, Bluepoints, Kusshis, Beau Soleils.  Some of the names are intriguing – Lady Chatterly, or Fanny Bay (my British friends will love that one! Andy, Paddy, Chris!).  It leads people to believe that there are hundreds of species of oysters out there – but amazingly enough, there are really only five food oyster species (Kumamoto; Pacific; Eastern; European Flats; and Olympia), and one – the Eastern Oyster, or Crassostrea virginica – makes up 85% of oyster consumption in the US.  Take a look at the menu from the Grand Central Oyster Bar, the granddaddy of NY oyster bars.  It’s from today – and I count 12 different East Coast oysters.  Every one of those oysters is Crassostrea virginica, and every one not only looks different, but tastes different.  The same characteristics apply to Pacific Oysters; European Oysters; etc.  While the species may be the same, the shape, size, shell color, oyster texture and oyster flavor are going to be distinctly different depending on a dizzying number of variables associated with where the oyster was grown, and when it was harvested.  In the US, most raw oysters offered are either East Coast, or Pacific (also called West Coast).  Occasionally, Belons (European Flats) are offered, but these are almost always harvested from Maine, where Belons were transplanted from Europe in the 1950’s.  While there are many flavor and texture variations, there are some generalizations about their physical characteristics and flavor profiles (I love that phrase!) – Pacific oysters are typically smaller, rounder, deeper, creamier, sweeter, with hints of melon or cucumber; while East Coast oysters tend to be larger, narrower, briny, crisp, with a slight mineral accent.   In this picture, the Pacific oysters are in the middle -see how they look different?  These are wide generalizations, of course – there is significant overlap.  I will admit that I am an East Coast oyster lover– it’s not that I dislike Pacific Oysters – but I prefer the briny flavor of Eastern oysters to the (for me) slightly off-putting melony favor of West Coast.  But aside from those generalizations, the variation is astounding.  For example, on the other side of the Boothbay Peninsula from us is the Damariscotta River, one of the major oyster growing areas in Maine. I’ve had the following oysters from the Damariscotta: Pemaquids; Glidden Points; Norumbegas; Wawenauks; Dodge Coves; Otter Coves; Browne Points; and Wiley Points.  I’m sure there are even more, but amazingly, these 8 oysters are all grown within a 15 mile stretch of the Damariscotta River – and they all taste distinctly different!  It’s the result of all the different variables that go into growing and harvesting the oysters.  Salinity; depth of harvesting; depth of finishing; location along the river; current; etc.  All these variations combine to produce a unique flavor.  We live on the other side of the Peninsula, on the Sheepscot side.  There are exactly zero oyster farms on our side, yet we are only 4 miles away, and the tidal waters that flow in both rivers is from the exact same source.  Given that a significant amount of lobster harvesting occurs just off our dock, I thought it was strange that there were no oyster farms.  I contacted Bill Mook, owner of Mook Sea Farms and a pioneer in Damariscotta oyster farming, to find out why.  Bill suggested that the Sheepscot was just too cold to efficiently grow oysters.  You see, oysters grow much better in warmer water – and it’s only in the last 30 years that aquaculture techniques to improve cold water oyster farming have allowed the resurgence of the Maine oyster populations.  Whatever the reason, we are thrilled to be living so close to a thriving oyster fishery – when we have oysters in our local pub, we know they were likely harvested the previous day, within a few miles of our location.

So, let’s talk about what I think is the first hurdle that you oyster haters have to get over – eating them raw.  This really frightens a lot of people.  First, everyone has their story on someone getting sick from eating a raw oyster.  Yes, it does happen, and, particularly for high-risk individuals (such as those with compromised immune systems), eating raw oysters may not be advisable because of the potential life-threatening consequences.  That said, the general risks of infection in the US are very low, especially if you confine your oyster eating or buying to well known establishments with solid histories.  There are risks from consuming many food items, ranging from undercooked meats (e.g. medium rare burgers) to raw eggs, and even unwashed spinach.  But I don’t think the risks from eating raw oysters are so high that this should stop people from consuming them.  While I love cooked oysters as well, to me, they are a completely different product.  Steamed oysters dipped in butter are one of my daughter and I’s favourite foods on Hilton Head Island in South Carolina.  My wife and I absolutely love New Orleans chargrilled oysters (Acme, Felix’s, – we love them all!).  But cooked oysters really lose that delicate flavor I love in raw oysters – that’s why cooked oysters are generally flavored up with other things (butter; cheese; Worcester sauce; hot sauce; etc.)

OK, if you can get past the idea of eating raw food (yes, I realize it’s raw live food!), some people struggle with the visual aspect.  “They look slimy” said one of my friends (they aren’t).  “They look prehistoric” said another (actually, they are).  You need to get over it.  Lobsters look like a giant bug.  Have you ever eaten halibut?  Of course, what a great fish.  Do you know what a halibut looks like?  Ok, not so scared?  How about monkfish?  Nice white, mild fish.  Take a look – Pretty scary, right?  Now, look at a raw oyster.  It has a beautiful shell, with a glistening succulent morsel of moist meat in the center.  Now smell it – does it smell fishy?  No, and if it does, don’t eat it as its probably bad.  Raw oysters have only a slight fragrance – the smell subtly of the sea.  They smell fresh.  If properly served, they will come on a bed of ice, and they’ll be cool (but not ice cold) to the touch.  You’ll want to use the little fork they give you to make sure that the oyster has been properly separated from the shell – slide the fork under the oyster and just make sure it isn’t attached.  Raw oysters are meant to be eaten in one bite – you don’t cut them up and eat them.  When most people think about trying one for the first time, they’re a bit scared about what the oyster will taste like, and what the texture will be.  As a result, they do what humans are evolved to do – they try to take a little test-bite first.  Resist the urge to do this – you’ll end up with a mess, and a bad experience. 

So, let’s talk texture.  Surprisingly, you’ll find a fairly wide variety in the texture of oysters depending, again, on their merroir.  They will range from soft, to compact and slightly springy.  They are not, however, slimy – again, if you have a slimy oyster, it is likely that it’s bad.  Now it’s in your mouth – do you swallow?  Do you chew?  That’s all about preference.  I like to take a couple of chews before swallowing – but I promise that on your first oyster, your instinct will be to swallow quickly.  That’s ok – it’s the fear factor kicking in.  The important thing will be to just get over that first try.  Finally, the flavor – everyone I know that has tried their first raw oyster has been surprised by how mild and wonderfully subtle the flavor is.  You get a little brininess. It’s a fresh, clean flavor.  It’s not strong; it’s not fishy.  Too me, it’s almost like tasting the ocean breeze.  Over time, as you enjoy oysters more, and you allow the oyster to linger a bit before swallowing, you’ll start to notice other subtle flavors – sometimes a mineral finish; sometimes a slight citrus flavor.

Accoutrements

Ok, what are these?  Accompaniments, of course.  You know – the little wedge of lemon; cocktail sauce; mignonette (pronounced min-yon-ette), which is the little cup of vinegary looking stuff you frequently get with oysters.  First, I’m a bit of a purist when it comes to my accompaniments – a little spritz of fresh lemon, a little grate of pepper, or nothing at all.  But at the beginning, you’ll do like many people – you’ll load up your oyster with cocktail sauce; extra horseradish; tabasco – again, I think it’s all part of overcoming the fear factor.  People think there will be a strong unpleasant flavor, so they try to pre-empt it by covering it with something equally (in their mind) strong.  The problem, ironically, is that the oyster has such a mild, subtle flavor that anything you put on it can quickly overwhelm the flavors.  I notice that people do this with sushi as well.  Do you?  Come on, admit it if you do.  I meet lots of people that say they like sushi.  We go to the sushi bar.  My first clue is their predominant focus on rolls – keep the fish safely tucked away beneath rice; vegetables; and sauces.  Then the horrible habit of mixing a large wad of wasabi in with their soy sauce – so they end up with a sinus busting dipping sauce.  The subtle flavor of the fish is nowhere to be found.  The same can be found with people purporting to love raw oysters – you see them load up on cocktail sauce before slurping down their oyster.  Yesterday, at the Grand Central Oyster Bar, we were enjoying some oysters and I noticed the guy next to us pile a teaspoon of raw horseradish on top of some cocktail sauce on his oyster!  I guarantee that he got absolutely no oyster flavor in that bite – only horseradish.  You’ll need to wean yourself down, however.  First, let go of the tabasco.  Then cut back on the cocktail sauce.  Replace the cocktail sauce with a little mignonette.  Replace the mignonette with just a splash of lemon.  Then finally, one day, eat the oyster naked (well, ehm.  I don’t mean eat it in the nude…I mean, do that if you want, but…ehm…never mind).  By the way, mignonette is extremely easy to make if, and when, you finally decide to buy and shuck your own oysters (more on that in a moment).  It’s really just vinegar (typically red or white wine vinegar), a little finely chopped shallot, and some fresh ground pepper.  You can make it ahead, and it keeps for several weeks in the fridge.  Old oyster aficionados in Maine like just a little grind of fresh black pepper on their oyster – and I’ve found that to be quite enjoyable as well (adds a little spice without covering the wonderful flavor).

Trying them at home

Ok, you’ve tried your first oysters, and you like them.  You’ve cut down on the cocktail sauce and are really starting to enjoy the merroir.  But at $3-$4 an oyster, you realize this is getting to be an expensive habit.  I totally agree, but don’t blame it on the oyster growers.  There is a whole chain of special handling to get that delicate oyster from the oyster farm to the plate at the oyster bar – harvesting; storing; shipping; storing; shucking; presenting.  It’s a chain that adds cost.  But if you are lucky enough to live near the coast, you’ll find seafood purveyors selling fresh oysters.  Depending on the season and your location, you can buy these oysters for under $1 per oyster.  Still a little pricey, but now within reach for most people to eat them regularly.  You buy a dozen, and an oyster knife, get them home, and figure – how hard can this be?  I remember getting ambitious on my first time buying oysters to shuck at home – I bought two dozen Blue Points and an oyster knife from my local supermarket.  I got them home, washed them, and prepared to shuck.  I had watched a couple of youtube videos – didn’t look that hard.  An hour and half later I had finished shucking – I was exhausted; the kitchen was a mess; my palm was bleeding from several puncture marks, and the oysters were a disaster – little bits of broken shell and mud on almost every one.  I began to appreciate the shuckers at the oyster bar – you get a plate of oysters, clean, glistening, no mud, or broken shells – and you realize why you are paying $3 per oyster!  When we bought our house in Maine, we started going to a local pub (King Eiders Pub) in Damariscotta to have our oysters.  I noticed that the woman behind the bar was using some type of contraption to shuck the oysters – a metal bar on a hinge, with a cutting point welded onto the bar.  Aha!, I thought, this was the trick.  It wasn’t technique!  I wasn’t to blame for my shoddy shucking…it was my lack of professional equipment!  A quick romp ’round google, and I found that I could buy just such a device – called an Oyster Jack – and check it out – Amazon prime as well! (Paula will tell you I am an Amazon Prime addict, and a lead donor to the Jeff Bezos “Make me richer” fund).  Within a day I had my own professional oyster jack.  I couldn’t wait to try it – Fisherman’s Catch (our local seafood purveyor) had Pemaquid Points on sale for $0.80 each – so I bought a dozen (I had learned my lesson on over-reaching with initial shucking attempts!), got them home, and assembled my Oyster Jack.  It definitely speeded up the process.  It took me a few disastrous times to get it right, but the device improved my ability to pop the hinge on the oyster (the hardest part of shucking).  I cut down my shucking time to 20 minutes – but still occasionally ended up with broken shells.  And there was still a bit of a mess.  Finally, I watched a few more videos, and practiced on a few dozen (or more) oysters, this time using only an oyster knife – and I finally “got it”.  My problem was in putting too much brute force to try to pop the hinge.  It’s much more about technique – wiggle the knife point in, apply very slight pressure, slightly rotate the knife tip, and you will feel it pop open.  Once you learn the technique, shucking isn’t so bad.  I also learned to buy a shucking glove (knife proof gloves – Amazon prime – under $7 a pair) for protection.  I may still use the oyster jack if I have a lot of people over, but with my technique refined, I only need a good oyster knife and a kitchen towel to shuck (almost) like a professional!

What to Drink

Anything you want!  While that’s true, I find that oysters go best with something cold and crisp – and that usually means a nice beer, a sparkling wine (like Champagne, Cava, or Prosecco), or a still white wine.  Again, like with accompaniments, it’s about not overwhelming the flavor of the oyster.  For beer, you’ll want to stick to lighter beers – pilsners, or if you are lucky to find it near you, a Kölsch.  Heavier, and hoppier beers are likely to linger on the palate and corrupt the taste of the oysters.  For wines, we like a nice Cava or Prosecco, or a chilled white like a Sauvignon Blanc.  While red wine is our general wine of choice, it’s not the best for accompanying oysters, for the same reasons previously stated.

So, I hope I’ve convinced just a few of you to try your first raw oyster, and if you do, I think you will be surprised by how much you like them.  One of my nephews, Facundo (that’s him on the left), has a very narrow range of food he will eat – beef; pizza; pasta; no veggies.  A few years ago we convinced Facundo to actually try an oyster.   To the right is Facundo just after his first oyster.  No, not really! – that’s clearly not Facundo.  Actually, he overcame his fear and loved his first taste of oysters! (That is, however, what Facundo looks like after mistakenly eating green vegetables!)

 

Yes, they are expensive – but if you are willing to spend some time learning how to shuck an oyster, you can enjoy them at home for less than $1 per oyster.  If you become obsessed with oysters as I have, you’ll start searching out the various oyster happy hours near you.  These have become quite popular in NYC, and I can highly recommend Crave Fishbar’s oyster happy hour – the best in town.  There are some “soup-nazi” style rules, but follow them, and you’ll get a wide variety of east and west coast oysters at $1 each (unlike many oyster happy hours which generally serve only Blue Points).  If you find yourself in Portland, Maine, I encourage you to try Eventide – a fantastic oyster bar that (obviously) specializes in Maine oysters.  Their unique solution to the problem of overwhelming the raw oyster with accompaniments is to provide a choice of flavored ices (really, these are special granitas) to accompany the oyster – so you get a little additional flavor without overwhelming the oyster.  The abundance of local oysters is yet another reason why we love Maine.  If you can get past your fears, and try that first oyster, you may, as we have, come to love eating oysters.  We love them like we love drinking wine or eating cheese – because we can taste the terroir, or merroir, in the product.  I’ll leave you with a quote from my high school years, from a book called “The Chosen”, by Chaim Potok.

“Merely to live, merely to exist – what sense is there to it? A fly also lives.”

Let’s do more than that – let’s have experiences that enrich our lives.  So, go eat an oyster!

Disfrutando la Vida en el Loire

Disfrutando la Vida en el Loire


Bueno amigos, todavía esta nevando a lo loco en Maine. A pesar de estar a fines de marzo, todavía tenemos varios pies de nieve en el suelo, y 22 grados afuera (Fahrenheit, para mis amigos argentinos y europeos). Sin embargo, para ser sinceros, en este preciso momento nos encontramos disfrutantdo junto a una hermosa piscina, cerca de Orlando. Aprovechamos un fin de semana largo, combinando una visita pendiente para ver a mis padres (¡y conseguirles su primer i-phone!) con la sorpresiva visita de nuestros buenos amigos, Andy y Jayne, de Inglaterra. Mientras tomaba mi café esta mañana, pensé en todos los buenos momentos que hemos vivido con Andy y Jayne, y en particular, nuestras visitas a su casa en el Valle del Loire. Si hubieses sido un pajarito posado en una rama, en un atardecer cualquiera en Le Bois (la casa de Andy y Jayne en el Loire) , ¿qué hubieses visto y escuchado? Seguramente hubieses visto unas cuantas edificaciones de piedra, bañadas por una luz dorada, un brillo púrpura en el horizonte sobre el campo arado, la puesta del sol y sentido una suave brisa cálida trayendo el aroma a suelo fértil.

Y pasando el sauce grande, hubieses escuchado el leve tintineo de las copas, pero más que nada, hubieses escuchado el sonido de las risas. Si alguna vez pensaron en visitar Francia; o si han estado en París y quieren explorar otras áreas de Francia; o si simplemente sueñan con un lugar cálido para disfrutar después de un crudo invierno, sigan leyendo.

Conocimos a Andy y Jayne, en Jamaica. Paula y yo habíamos decidido ir de vacaciones a la playa, buscando simplemente un lugar donde relajarnos durante una semana; un lugar cálido y “all inclusive”. Me gusta el concepto de “todo incluído”, aunque sé que podría terminar pagando un poco más (sí, es cierto: a menos que bebas como un pez, a menudo resulta más barato ir “a la carta”, por así decirlo. Me gusta la idea de registrarme y despreocupándome por firmar cuentas o dar propinas, sin siquiera llevar mi billetera encima durante la semana, y pagando todo al final. Elegimos el Sandals Royal Plantation, en Ocho Ríos. En el Salón de Recepción del Hotel en el aeropuerto, nos invitaron a tomar algo mientras esperábamos al resto de los pasajeros que compartirían el viaje de unas 2 horas hacia Ocho Ríos donde se encuentra el hotel. Unos 20 minutos más tarde, junto a los demás, seguimos al chofer de la camioneta.
Para nuestra sorpresa, vimos a un valijero empujando un enorme portaequipaje lleno de valijas hacia la caminoneta, lo cual era extraño, ya que: (a) nosotros llevábamos nuestras valijas de mano; y (b) una de las otras dos parejas, también llevaban las suyas. Oh bueno, pensé, tal vez hay más parejas esperando en la camioneta. Pero no… no había otras personas (Ok, lo admito, la foto no es del verdadero carrito de equipaje, pero se le parece bastante). Una vez acomodados, nos encontramos con nuestros compañeros de viaje. Una de las parejas era joven y claramente no estaba demasiado interesada en nadie más. La otra tenía nuestra edad, y enseguida entablamos una amena conversación. Andy y Jayne son ingleses, de Hull, y estaban en el final de unas largas vacaciones. Habían pasado más de una semana explorando el noreste de EE. UU., y ahora estaban terminando con una semana de playa. Nos dimos cuenta que el equipaje, era de ellos. “Viajar livianos” no era lo suyo, esto fue algo que nos hizo reir muchísimo a todos y pasamos un entretenido viaje, camino al complejo. Pronto nos hicimos amigos y pasamos una semana fantástica en la playa. Así supimos más sobre ellos: Andy tenía su propio negocio de inversiones financieras; Jayne, una guardería; dos hijos en edad universitaria; y, eran dueños de Le Bois, un “complejo” de vacaciones en el Valle del Loire (pronunciado “lwahr”). Nuestra amistad floreció, y pronto intercambiamos invitaciones para encontrarnos nuevamente, en nuestro departamento en Nueva York, y otra vez en Jamaica, al año siguiente. Como estábamos planeando un viaje a Europa el próximo verano, Andy y Jayne sugirieron que pasáramos una semana con ellos en el “Loire”.”El Loire” … Pasar una semana en el Loire sonaba tan elegante y divertido… ¡aceptamos rápidamente, no fuese que decidieran retirar el ofrecimiento! Con la llegada del verano, comenzamos a emocionarnos con nuestro viaje. El plan era volar a París, pasar unos días allí y luego tomar un tren a Le Mans, donde Andy y Jayne nos recogerían y nos llevarían a su casa de campo. Esta región de Francia está a unas 3 horas al suroeste de París. Esta es una hermosa parte de Francia, 

salpicada de castillos y casas señoriales, y atravesada por el río Loire. La tierra del Valle del Loire produce algunos vinos maravillosos, particularmente alrededor de las ciudades de Saumur y Chinon. El paisaje se caracteriza por colinas, bosques, pueblos rurales y su agricultura. La zona sigue siendo una importante región agrícola de Francia, que incluye carne de vaca, cerdo, aves de corral, leche y cereales. También es muy conocida por el “Cremant del Loire”, un vino espumoso (esencialmente un Champagne (aunque no se lo puede llamar así porque el término Champagne esta reservado para los vinos espumosos de esa zona) producido con Chenin Blanc, en esta región. El Cremant es maravilloso y refrescante, con predominio de sabores de pera, limón y miel. Después de un lindísimo fin de semana en París, abordamos el tren para Le Mans. Llegar a esta región es fácil, ya sea en auto, tren o avión. Optamos por el tren, y Andy y Jayne nos recibieron en la estación. Como llegamos cerca de la hora del almuerzo, sugirieron que almorzáramos en Le Mans antes de dirigirnos a Meigne Le Vicomte, el pequeño pueblo cerca de su propiedad. Era un día espectacular, muy cálido y soleado, así que decidimos sentarnos afuera.
El almuerzo (en La Fou du Roy) tuvo todo lo bueno que uno puede esperar en Francia: mariscos frescos, vino increíble y ritmo lento. Compartimos algunas ostras: la Bretaña es una de las regiones productoras de ostras más grandes del mundo, realmente imperdibles!. Los franceses son muy particulares sobre el origen y la procedencia, especialmente de la comida de mar, y antes de servirlas, nos dieron todos los detalles. 
Servir los productos “De la granja a su mesa” es parte de su cultura. Con un poco de pereza, dejamos nuestra mesa, para emprender nuestro camino al “Loire Valley Gites”, la propiedadad de Andy y Jayne en la campiña. “Gites” es el termino francés que se usa para denominar a una propiedad de vacaciones amueblada, ofrecida en alquiler, por lo general en zonas rurales.
Nos abrimos camino a través de un increible paisaje, y a través de varias poblaciones pequeñas. Pasando el pueblo de Meigne le Vicomte, doblamos por un camino rural a través de campos y bosques, y llegamos al camino de entrada a Le Bois, nuestro hogar durante la semana siguiente.

El complejo de 2 acres esta compuesto de dos edificios: Le Bois – la casa principal; La Bucheron – una casa de huéspedes-; y los graneros, aún por restaurar. Es un lugar acogedor, rodoeado de una frodosa arboleda y tierras de cultivo.  Cuando Andy y Jayne descubrieron la propiedad, estaba considerablemente deteriorada. Los edificios originales datan de 1750 y formaban parte de la propiedad agrícola. El dueño anterior había comenzado a remodelar la propiedad, pero debido a su edad, perdió interés con el paso del tiempo. Andy nos contó que habían estado buscando una propiedad durante un largo tiempo, pero que en cuanto vieron este lugar, supieron de inmediato que éste, era el lugar para ellos. Lo que vemos hoy en día, es el resultado de una renovación que llevó varios años.  Una de las características distintivas de estas construcciones es el uso de la piedra tuffeau, una piedra caliza local. La pátina amarillenta en la piedra insinúa la edad de las estructuras y la impregna de características únicas. Andy y Jayne querían mantener el estilo original de los edificios tanto como fuera posible, de modo que, aunque están completamente renovados en cuanto a las comodidades modernas, conservan su estilo original. Estas construcciones generalmente se construyeron en el estilo poste y viga, con maderas de roble o castaño. El interior de Le Bois es simplemente espectacular: vigas a la vista que han sido restauradas, teñidas y barnizadas. Me impresionó especialmente el primer piso, donde las vigas expuestas generan una sensación de “loft”en las habitaciones. En algunas áreas hay que andar con cuidado para no golpearse la cabeza en uno de los travesaños, este es uno de los sacrificios necesarios para mantener la integridad arquitectónica de la estructura original, pero todo agrega al encanto. Abrimos las ventanas de nuestra habitación y desempacamos. Si bien era un día muy caluroso, la habitación estaba fresca, otra característica típica al mantener la estructura original. Las paredes anchas aíslan el interior generando una temperatura ideal. La brisa perfumada de lilas transmitía los sonidos del campo – algunos pájaros cantores, un tractor distante, la paz y la tranquilidad de este entorno privado.  Y así, comenzó nuestra primera semana en Le Bois. Establecimos una rutina diaria: nos levantábamos temprano: Andy y yo íbamos a buscar los croissants para el desayuno recién salidos del horno, a una pequeña panadería cerca de Meigne Le Vicomte. Los dueños son una pareja mayor que debe levantarse a la madrugada para cocinar sus delicias caseras. Déjenme decirles: ¡No han vivido hasta que no hayan probado los croissants recién salidos del horno de una panadería local! Después del café
y un croissant en la cocina, planeábamos las actividades del día. Hay mucho que hacer en esta región, desde visitar uno de los muchos castillos, recorrer las rutas de los viñedos o incluso navegar en kayak por el río Loire. O también, una de nuestras actividades favoritas: … ¡simplemente no hacer nada! Le Bois tiene una
maravillosa piscina climatizada, y pasamos varios días simplemente descansando y disfrutando de la piscina. Una de nuestras primeras visitas fue al Mercado en Langeais, un pueblo más grande a unos 25 minutos de distancia. Langeais tiene un fantástico castillo medieval en el centro histórico que domina el pintoresco pueblo. Nos encanta explorar los mercados locales, y el de Langeais es el sitio perfecto.
Los agricultores y los productores de la región llevan sus productos y animan a los visitantes a probarlos. Tanto los quesos de leche de vaca como de cabra, se elaboran localmente. Selles-sur-Cher es un queso de leche de cabra riquísimo, ligeramente salado. Cure Nantais es un queso de leche de vaca con trocitos de naranja y un fantástico sabor ahumado.  Entre los fiambres, todos locales, hay terrinas, pates, y salamines. De pronto, nos dimos cuenta que estábamos cargados con muchas cosas para probar en Le Bois, sumando varias baguettes. Andy y yo compartimos filosofías y puntos de vista, y los dos estuvimos de acuerdo en que, ya que estábamos haciendo ejercicio regularmente con viajes de ida y vuelta de la casa a la piscina para buscar más cerveza, ¡estábamos seguros que las calorías adicionales no serían un problema! Otro día, visitamos un castillo llamado Chateau de Villandry. Originalmente construido en el siglo catorce.  Este castillo tiene unos jardines impresionantes, distribuídos en un estilo renacentista, sin duda mi parte favorita de este recorrido (bueno, de hecho, no: ¡mi parte favorita fue el almuerzo que disfrutamos en La Doulce Terasse!). El significado histórico de esta región es muy importante. Este lugar era el centro del Ducado de Aquitania, y el hogar de Enrique II y Eleanor de Aquitania (personificado por Peter O’Toole y Katherine Hepburn en El León en Invierno). Cuando el rey Felipe de Francia fracasó en las negociaciones de paz con Enrique II, su ejército se alió con su hijo, Ricardo Corazón de León (¡una verdadera disputa familiar!) y esto llevó a Enrique II a retirarse a la región en Chinon, donde murió. Enrique II, su esposa Leonor de Aquitania y su hijo Ricardo el Corazón de León están enterrados en Fontevraud Abbey, cerca de Chinon. Esta es otra de las muchas cosas interesantes para ver.
Disfrutamos de excelentes almuerzos mientras explorábamos la zona. Como en general pasábamos la tarde y cenábamos en Le Bois, reservávamos la hora del almuerzo para nuestras excursiones gastronómicas. Los franceses ciertamente saben cómo almorzar de la mejor manera: nunca nos sentimos apurados, buenos vinos acompañando la comida; y todos los productos producidos en la región. Normalmente, ordenábamos el vino de la casa, un consejo que les doy a todos, especialmente cuando se viaja a regiones productoras de vino. El vino de la casa es el que eligen los lugareños y siempre será bueno y menos costoso que el de la carta. Fuimos muy afortunados ya que el valle del Loira produce algunos de los mejores vinos de Francia. Aunque se conocen principalmente vinos blancos y rosados, también hay buenos vinos tintos, especialmente los elaborados cerca de Chinon, en la zona de St-Nicolas-de-Bourgueil. Durante el día, generalmente tomábamos vino blanco o rosé frío, debido al calor en esta época del año (agosto). Por la noche, en Le Bois, comenzábamos con un buen Cremant espumoso, y luego, usualmente tomamos un vino tinto de Bourgueil (generalmente de Cabernet Franc). Las bodegas en esta región son todas pequeñas, y en general, son administradas por sus dueños. Hay numerosos recorridos para visitar los viñedos. Andy y Jayne en general hacen un par de estas excursiones cuando hospedan familiares o amigos (y aunque Jayne solo toma espumante, Andy toma la posta y cata los vinos en nombre de la familia Craggs!). Le Bouff’tard, un pequeño y modesto restaurante en un pueblito llamado Hommes es sin duda digno de ser mencionado por la excelente relación costo-calidad con la que reciben a sus clientes. 
Aunque no hay mucho que ver desde afuera, la comida, el servicio y el valor en Le Bouff’tard, fueron excepcionales. Las dos veces que fuimos, elegimos el menú del mediodía con precio fijo que incluye la copa del vino de la casa. Es difícil creer que tan buena comida, se pueda servir por menos de 16 euros por persona. Otros almuerzos memorables fueron en Saumur y Chinon, por lo general, algún tipo de marisco de Normandía o Bretaña, acompañado por productos locales. Es divertido explorar esta región de pueblitos pintorescos. Cuando viajamos, a veces vemos propiedades y fantaseamos con la idea de remodelar una pequeña propiedad. Así uno de esos días decidimos visitar una casita de piedra de tuffeau con un granero
que había sido parcialmente restaurado, y una atractiva piscina situada en la base de una antigua ruina. Yo estaba listo para comprar la propiedad en ese momento, pero Paula, que es la más racional de los dos, me hizo volver en mí. Cuando salíamos de la propiedad, Andy retrocedió con su auto que quedó parcialmente encajado en un pozo al costado de la de entrada de la casa. No tardamos en darnos cuenta que una de las ruedas traseras había quedado en el aire. Nos imaginamos esperando una grúa por horas, hasta que ví un tablón de madera y tras colocarlo bajo la rueda en el aire, pudimos salir airosos. Después de este rescate, Andy me apodó “Action Man” (hombre de acción). No se si estaré a la altura de tal apodo… Lo siento Andy!!!

Los atardeceres en Le Bois giraban alrededor de la piscina, caminando por la propiedad o pasando el tiempo en la casa. Por la noche, casi siempre comíamos al aire libre, ya sea en la terraza trasera o delantera. Ambas áreas tienen parrillas que Andy instaló para los huéspedes. Preparamos comidas con productos locales, siempre comenzando con queso y fiambres traídos de nuestras visitas al mercado, y panes de la panadería artesanal. Uno de esos días, recordando lo hablado en nuestros encuentros anteriores, decidimos hacer pizza. Tanto a Andy como a mí, nos encanta la competencia y decidimos hacer una pizza cada uno y luego pedirles a Jayne y Paula que decidieran cuál era la mejor. Yo, ignorando totalmente la forma, intenté enfocarme en la simplicidad y el sabor. Andy, como buen inglés, se aseguró de que su pizza estuviera bien formada … es decir, redonda, contrastando con mi formato “libre”. Aunque ellas finalmente se negaron a coronar a un ganador, tuve que admitir que la pizza de Andy era la ganadora por sabor y formato.  En nuestros dos visitas, la semana pasó demasiado rápido, y pronto llegó la hora de despedirnos. Para nosotros, y estoy seguro que para la mayoría de ustedes también, los paseos como estos, son siempre más memorables cuando podemos compartirlos con familiares o amigos. Si bien estos lugares son bellos por sí mismos, es el tiempo que se pasa con las personas que uno quiere, lo que crea recuerdos inolvidables. El Loire no es necesariamente la primera opción en la que uno piensa cuando planea un viaje a Francia. Claramente, si es su primera visita, querrán pasar unos días en París. Pero les recomiendo que consideren visitar esta región que a menudo se pasa por alto. Los precios son muy razonables y realmente tendrán la oportunidad de experimentar lo regional. Terminando nuestro corto fin de semana, ahora visitando a Andy y Jane en Orlando (que están de vacaciones en los EE.UU.), fue muy divertido recordar los buenos momentos vividos en estos viajes. Gracias Andy y Jayne por la risa, todos los hermosos recuerdos y por lo que esté por venir!.

Dónde hospedarse
Si bien hay muchos lugares para alojarse en el Valle del Loire, no podría recomendar ningún lugar superior a Loire Valley Gites .  Este maravilloso complejo cuenta con una casa principal “Le Bois”, con camas para 6 personas en tres dormitorios, incluído dormitorio principal en suite. La casa tiene una gran cocina de campo, sala de estar y comedor. Le Bucheron es una casita de huéspedes con capacidad para 4 personas, e incluye su propia cocina, comedor y sala de estar. El complejo cuenta con parrillas para hacer asado, una piscina climatizada en 2 acres muy privados en la campiña francesa cerca de Meigne Le Vicomte. La propiedad está muy bien mantenida, y Andy y Jayne pueden ayudarlos a planificar su viaje con mucha información sobre cosas locales para hacer.


Dónde comer

¿Por dónde empiezo acá? Hay tantos pequeños restaurantes en esta área que vale la pena visitar, que dudo en proporcionar demasiados detalles, ya que querrán explorar por su cuenta. Si llegan desde cualquier lugar cerca de Le Mans, recomiendo Le Fou du Roy (2 Impasse Sainte-Catherine, 72000 Le Mans, Francia). Es un pequeño restaurante cerca de la catedral y se llega tras un corto viaje en tranvía desde la estación de tren – es posible que desee reservar con antipación. Merece la pena ir al pequeño pueblo de Hommes para comer en La Bouff’tard (5 Place du Huit Mai, 37340 Hommes); Para almorzar recomiendo el menú fijo; la mejor comida en esta región. En Chinon, recomendaría Bistrot de la Place (47 Place du Général de Gaulle, 37500 Chinon), que se encuentra junto a una hermosa plaza con fuente. En Saumur, realmente disfrutamos  Le Grand Bleu
unos mejillones fantásticos. También en Saumur,
La Cave aux Moines si buscan una buena comida en un ambiente realmente diferente, prueben los distintos platos con champiñones por supuesto, pero también el pan Fouée, por el que son famosos. Finalmente, recomendaría buscar uno de los muchos mercados semanales de la región: compren algo de comida y coman al aire libre en algún lugar agradable.

Cosas para hacer
Hay tantas cosas que hacer que sería difícil elaborar una lista exhaustiva. Seguramente, querrán visitar algunos de los castillos que hicieron famosa a esta zona:  Nos gustó Chateau de Villandry ; Chateau de Langeais ; y Chateau d’Usse .
Hay muchísimas bodegas para visitar, la que nosotros encontramos es ésta: Langlois-Chateau impecable y con un espacio lindísimo para el “tasting”/cata de vinos al final del tour.  Si lo que les interesa es la historia, no querrán perderse
Fontevraud Royal Abbey
cerca de Chinon.
Esta abadía data del 1101 y es la tumba de Enrique II, Eleonora y Ricardo Corazón de León. Finalmente, algo extremadamente divertido para hacer, especialmente en el verano, es hacer kayak. El río no es muy profundo, y para nada torrentoso. Hay varios lugares para alquilar los kayaks. Nosotros alquilamos en Pole Nautique de Saumur.
O bien, pueden alquilar bicicletas y disfrutar el aire fresco.

Como llegar
Es sumamente sencillo llegar a esta región por auto, tren o avión. Es un área rural, por lo que necesitará un auto para explorar a fondo la campiña, no hay transporte público disponible. Conducir es muy fácil en Francia, y esta región tiene un sistema de autopistas bien desarrollado. Si vienen de EE. UU., les será más fácil volar a París, alquilar un auto y conducir hasta la allí (aproximadamente 3 horas en auto desde París), o pueden tomar un tren a Le Mans o Tours (el tren tarda unas 2 horas desde París), y allí alquilar un auto. Si desea volar, lo más fácil sería tomar un vuelo corto de París a Nantes, y luego alquilar un automóvil en el aeropuerto.

Un Paraiso no Descubierto

An Undiscovered Paradise

Doesn’t that look great?  Well, that’s not what I’m experiencing right now.  Wow, what a day!  Here we are, mid-March, and our third Nor’easter in 2 weeks!  Ok, I have to be honest here.  First, the picture below is from a storm we had around the Christmas holidays.  However, it represents what I imagine are the conditions in Maine at present.   Second, I’m not actually in Maine right now – I’m in NYC…and while we are getting a little bit of snow, it’s nowhere near to being a Nor’easter.  But given the general conditions, I thought it might be fun to do a post on somewhere warm (especially for my friend, Jim, who hates the cold weather) – in this case, Cavallo Island.  You’ve never heard of Cavallo Island?  I thought so…and up until a few years ago, neither had I.  So, refill your coffee, and read on – I’ll tell you a bit about an amazingly undiscovered little slice of paradise.

A few years ago, we were thinking about what we would do for the summer.  Our usual pattern was to visit Europe – picking a few places, trying to spend at least a few days on or near a beach, and trying to limit the number of places so that we didn’t spend all our time getting from place A to place B.  We knew we would spend a week with some good friends who own a fantastic converted farmhouse in the Loire Valley.  But what to do after that?  Originally, the plan was for Greece – neither of us had been to Greece; we love the food and culture; and we really wanted some beach time.  However, as we started to plan for the trip, the refugee crisis had hit the Greek islands particularly hard.  One of my Greek acquaintances had suggested that it probably wasn’t the best time to explore the Greek islands.  Disappointed, I started to research alternatives to Greece that would give us what we wanted – crystal clear, warm Mediterranean waters; access to good food; quiet and relaxing.  There were a few candidates, ranging from the Balearic Islands in Spain, to the Croatian coast, to the little islands making up Malta in the south.  But nothing seemed quite what we were looking for.

During a weekend of furious googling, I came across an old article about this little island.  Located in the Lavezzi Archipelago, between Corsica and Sardinia, Cavallo (pronounced kah-Va-lo, with an emphasis on Va) is the only inhabited

ile de cavallo

island in the tiny, protected collection of granite islands and reefs.  At less than half a square mile in area, Cavallo is only 1.25 miles end to end, and less than 1 mile at its widest.  The initial description didn’t sound so great – rocky, few trees, tiny, dry – but the pictures drew me in.  The history was interesting – known since Roman times, it was mined extensively for the beautiful granite (used for many statues and buildings in Rome).  Over the years, it was variously part of France, and part of Italy.  These days there is a kind of truce – it is technically under the jurisdiction of the French (through its territorial region, Corsica), but owned by Italians.

It enjoyed some notoriety in the 70’s as a playground for the rich and famous, then fell out of favor until the last 10 years or so, when new ownership and investment on the island made it attractive once more.  While I’m not sure about Europe, it is very un-marketed here  – there was almost no information about the island, and in part, that’s what attracted us.  An undiscovered (well, at least this decade) paradise.  We were very intrigued…or at least, I was.  My wife loves to travel, but she doesn’t get into the planning process as much as I.  Not that she can’t plan – she’s great at it.  But Paula is slightly more “go with the flow” than I am.  Does it tick her minimum boxes? Yes? Ok, book it.  Whereas I like to spend hours comparing different places; reading reviews; considering all the alternatives; and then make what I always believe (in my own mind!) is the best selection one could make!  But the searching and planning are all part of the fun for me.  After further research we discovered that there was one hotel on the island, one small port, a couple of additional small restaurants, and various villas and homes (some of which could be rented).  So not a huge selection for accommodation.  But the hotel looked nice (and had good reviews), and the beaches…ah the beaches looked stunning… and solitary.  This was not a place to “do things”.  This was a place to relax, unwind, eat, drink wine, and…just do nothing.  In fact, this was exactly what we were looking for.  I quickly booked a week, and we started to think about other arrangements.  This was not, as we would find, an easy place to get to – and perhaps why it has remained relatively undiscovered.

As the summer vacation neared, we began to get more excited.  The first week would be, as I mentioned, with our friends Andy and Jayne, staying at their place in the Loire.  We had vacationed with Andy and Jayne before, and

I

always had a great time.  The week at their place was active, and fun.  Visiting chateaus, sampling wines, going to country markets – not overwhelmingly busy, but each day had an activity planned.  By the end of the week, while we were sad to say goodbye to our friends, we were really looking forward to doing nothing…on the beach.  As I mentioned, the logistics of getting to Cavallo were a little more challenging than a direct flight, short cab ride, unpack.  We made our way back to Paris by train, then took a relatively short flight to Olbia, the largest city (town?) on Sardinia.  From there, we were originally supposed to be flown, by helicopter, to Cavallo.  Yes…that’s right – helicopter.  Now, before you start thinking that you’ve stumbled across some jet-setting couple that frequently get whisked to their hotels by helicopter, let me explain.  You see, the island runway wasn’t quite large enough for our private jet, so…I’m kidding!!  Ok, a little more explanation.  There are only two ways to get to Cavallo – either by boat, or by helicopter.  When we first booked the hotel, the concierge outlined the two options.  When I inquired about the cost, it turned out that the helicopter charter was offering a discount – $400 per person, including taxi transfer to the heliport at Olbia.  The boat option was somewhat less expensive, but not by a lot – $300 per person, including the taxi transfer.  So, for an extra $200, we could arrive via helicopter (sounded very “Bond-ish”), and shorten our transfer time by a few hours – yes! we were in!  Keeping in mind that the airline cost from Paris to Sardinia was extraordinarily cheap ($50 per person – unbelievable), we quickly rationalized the all-in cost of $450 per person from Paris as being reasonable.  Done.  Our dreams were, however, dashed a week before our arrival.  I hadn’t heard from the helicopter charter we had booked, so called the hotel.  “Oh, they stopped doing flights to Cavallo”…What!??  It’s a good thing I called, because nobody thought to tell us of the cancellation.  “Not to worry”, she said, “we have an alternative helicopter charter” – $900 per person!  Well, there go the jetsetter dreams (and don’t tease me about “someday” and actuating my dreams!).  We opted for the taxi/boat transfer.  It didn’t turn out so bad – a pleasant 1-hour taxi ride from Olbia to the north Sardinian port town of Santa Teresa Gallura, and then an 45-minute boat ride to Cavallo.  The taxi driver spoke no English, but Paula understands Italian well, and we enjoyed a pleasant chat, with Paula translating, while he told us about Sardinia.  It’s a beautiful island in its own right – rocky, dry, with significant terrain – mountainous areas that plunge to the sea.  We both noted that it’s a place worth further exploration (although, sadly, we haven’t returned).  We had time to have a lovely drink at the port while waiting for the boat, and a pleasant boat ride to Cavallo.  Our week of relaxation was about to begin.

Cavallo turned out to be as good, or even better, than we expected.  The one hotel, Hotel des Pecheurs, is open seasonally, May through September.  It is situated right on the water, with its own beach.  Most of the rooms have sea views; a few even have terraces right on the water.  The rooms are small, but nicely appointed.  The hotel itself is well maintained – there is a beautiful beach, a pool, two restaurants (only one open for dinner), and a spa.  It is a bit pricey, but you have to realize that, in part, you are paying for the outstanding location.  This isn’t a place we would splurge for every year – but it’s worth a splurge for a special occasion.  Our bags were picked up at the small port, and we were taken to the hotel via golf cart.  Oh, I forgot to mention…there are no cars on Cavallo – bikes and golf carts only.  Given the small size of the island, it’s not surprising – and it makes the place seem even more remote and quaint.  There is a meandering perimeter road around the island, and while much of the island is relatively flat, there is a hill that rises in the center of the island to about 100 ft.  We quickly settled into a daily routine.  Up early, full breakfast in the hotel dining area (open air, and overlooking the water).  Head to the Hotel beach – lounge around, snorkel, enjoy the water – then lunch at the beach café, followed by a bike ride, walk, or golf cart ride to one of the other beaches (there are six on Cavallo); back to the Hotel for a nap before dinner; dinner al fresco by the water; early night to bed – then repeat with slight variations.  We rented a golf cart one day to explore all the beaches (one of the beaches, Rose beach, was inaccessible to all but residents of the area); we had a couple’s massage outside, in an open-air tent by the pool – but really, it was all about…doing nothing.  Now for us, that was great – its what we wanted.  It’s not for everyone – several of my friends would be climbing the walls – they aren’t good at just relaxing.  But we loved it.

The people, as well, were very interesting.  Most of the clientele are Italian or French – I think we saw one British couple; and no Americans.  From my perspective that was fine – don’t get me wrong, I love Americans (I am one!).  But when I’m on vacation in other countries, I’d much rather interact with other cultures, and other people.  I remember once I inadvertently booked into a hotel in Europe that turned out to be on the Rick Steve’s itinerary.  Who knew this guy has “groupies”!  Almost everyone at breakfast were American, clutching their Rick Steves guidebooks and wearing their Rick Steves money wallets, and discussing their itineraries.  While it is far afield from what I am sure Rick Steves was trying to encourage (which is – live like a local for a little while), he unfortunately has created these trips where, I believe, everyone is living within a Rick Steves bubble.  I quickly got out of there.  But back to Cavallo.  One morning we met this Italian couple at the beach.  They seemed interesting, although I noticed he walked a bit awkwardly.  “Hi, I am Marco” he said as he smiled and shook my hand.  We had a drink with them and learned that they were from northern Italy; that they were staying in Sardinia; and that they decided to come over to Cavallo for part of their trip.  Very pleasant chap.  The next morning, I was in the water, getting ready to put my snorkeling mask on, and I noticed Marco wading nearby.  I smiled at him, and just as I was about to say, “Good morning, Marco”, he smiled, shook my hand, and said “Hi, I am Marco”… hmmm – didn’t we do that yesterday?  Was this Groundhog Day?  Oh well, perhaps he was a bit tipsy yesterday, met a lot of people, and forgot.  The following day we were lounging on the beach, and Marco and his girlfriend took the loungers next to us.  He walked over, shook my hand, and said…you guessed it…” Hi, I am Marco”, and proceeded to tell me, once again, about himself.  Seeing the look on my face, his girlfriend confided in Paula while we were in the water.  Apparently, Marco had had a severe skiing accident the winter before; he was recovering, but it was partially a head injury and the result was a loss of short term memory.  This explained the odd behavior- and then I began to look forward to meeting Marco again each day, anew – despite the short-term memory loss and recovery, he was always in good spirits and loved to tell me about his life.

Another interesting event happened one day while we were on another one of the beaches – called Greco Beach.  It’s a stunning beach set in a wide cove of crystal clear turquoise water – land on three sides.  You can see Corsica from the beach.  There were only a handful of people on the beach (we found this to be the case with all of Cavallo’s beaches – very few people; you sometimes feel like you have your own private island).  I noticed that there was a very large sign indicating, in French and Italian, that this was a protected area, and that boats were prohibited from anchoring within the cove.  While we were sunbathing, a boat approached, and anchored right in the middle of the cove.  There were about 4 people on board – they anchored, broke out the snorkels, and started swimming around the boat.  One of the ladies was preparing some lunch.  I noticed a couple of people came out of their villas and shouted something at the boat – which was met with casual indifference by the boat people.  About 10 minutes later the cops (in this case, the French Gendarmes) showed up at the beach.  They were armed with…a whistle.  They began shouting and whistling at the boat, pointing out the large sign which clearly prohibited anchoring.  The boat people just waived the cops off – again, a casual indifference – they were clearly not going to respond to the threat of a whistle.  The cops, visibly pissed, left.  But about 15 minutes later I spied a boat rapidly approaching on the horizon – the Gendarmes were back, but this time with their own boat!  That got the attention of the partygoers – they quickly scrambled back to their boat, but by now, the police boat was alongside.  The Gendarmes boarded, and searched the offending boat.  I figured the people would get away with a warning, and just be told to push off.  But to my surprise, the Gendarmes took the boat people away (To booking? To jail? Sadly, I never found out the end of the story), leaving the offending boat anchored where it was.  This little event made my afternoon – a little drama played out as I lazily enjoyed the beach, and a little Schadenfreude.

And so, the week went by, far too quickly.  We discovered the “pizza restaurant” towards the end of our trip.  La Ferme, situated on the peak point of the island, was a jewel, and way more than a pizza restaurant.  We booked a late lunch there one day to just get a change from the hotel restaurants.  The restaurant sent someone in a golf cart to pick us up.  The setting is outstanding – with a magnificent view of the entire island.  The food was also outstanding – simple seafood and pasta, with pizza as well (although to be clear, this is more than just a pizza place).  We were disappointed that we didn’t discover this place earlier in our trip, as we would have spent more time here.  The snorkeling on Cavallo is awesome – crystal clear, warm Mediterranean waters, with many rocky grottoes.  It’s very shallow all around the island, making for a pleasant experience for novice snorkelers like me.  Before we knew it, the week was at an end and we were headed back to Sardinia to begin our trip home.  Recently, I came across several articles about an amazing fellow named Mauro Morandi.  He is the sole inhabitant of a small island (Budelli) that is very close to Cavallo.  Travel and Leisure has an interesting article about him – or just google his name to find more.  All in all, one of our most memorable and relaxing trips.  Even today, when we talk about our trip to Cavallo with people, the universal response is “Where?”.  So, while I do want to keep this place undiscovered (in case I ever go back, I don’t want another Rick Steves groupie experience!), I’m happy to let you in on our little secret.

Where to Stay

This is an easy one, as there is just one hotel on the island, Hotel des Pecheurs ().  That said, there are a number of villas and homes scattered around the perimeter of the island, and many of these can be rented.  There are some apartments near the port that are clearly holiday rentals – while these won’t be expensive, they are not, by any stretch, luxurious.  However, Cavallo is one of those places that would be great for a large group of people – chip in and rent one of the villas right on the water – it truly will be memorable.  The hotel, however, is great – highly recommended.  For villas and rentals, check the usual places (Airbnb, etc.).

Where to Eat

This is another easy one – there are only three restaurants on the Island (not counting the little gelato shop near the port) – the hotel restaurants, and La Ferme.  All three places, though, are fine.  A combination of French and Italian cuisine at the hotel restaurants, with fresh seafood and pasta a specialty.  Don’t miss La Ferme – we would have had more meals here if we had known how good it was.

How to Get There

As I said – Helicopter or Boat!  Seriously, to get here isn’t easy, and one reason it’s not overrun with tourists.  You either make your way to Corsica (Figari Sud Airport) or Sardinia (Olbia Airport).  From there you would take a taxi to either Bonifacio (Corsica) or Santa Teresa Gallura (Sardinia).  You would then take a boat from either of these ports to Cavallo.  If you stay at the hotel, the concierge can make arrangements for you from either Figari or Olbia.  I’m sure the helicopter option is still available for you Bond types!