“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!
could have been a little bird, perched on a branch on any evening at Le Bois, what would you have seen and heard? You would have seen a small collection of stone buildings, bathed in a golden light. There would be a purple glow on the horizon as the sun set over a field of grain, with a warm breeze carrying the scent of fertile ground. 
Coming from the vicinity of a large willow tree, you would have heard the slight tinkling of glasses – but more than anything you would have heard the sound of laughter. If you’ve ever thought about visiting France; or if you’ve been to Paris and now want to explore other areas of France; or you just like thinking about a warm place at the end of a tough winter, then read on.
There was a porter steering an enormous luggage cart piled high with bags – which was odd as: (a) we were wheeling our own bags; and (b) one of the other two couples were wheeling their own. Oh well, I thought – perhaps there are several other couples who are already waiting by the van. Nope…no other people (Ok, I admit, the picture isn’t of the luggage cart – quite). As we settled into the van, we met our ride-mates. One couple was young, and clearly not too interested in anyone else. The other were our age, and we struck up a conversation. Andy and Jayne were British, from Hull, and on the end of a long holiday. They had spent a week or so exploring the northeast US, and were now winding down with a beach week. The luggage, as we found out, was theirs – packing light wasn’t one of their strong suits, but we all had a good laugh about it, and had a pleasant drive to the resort. We soon became fast friends, and had a fantastic week on the beach. We learned more about them – Andy had his own financial services business; Jayne operated a day care; they had two college age children; and, we learned, they owned Le Bois – a holiday “compound” in the 
Loire (pronounced “lwahr”) Valley. The friendship blossomed, and invitations to get together again soon followed – we had them to our apartment in New York, and we all went to Jamaica again the following year. As we were planning for a trip to Europe the next summer, Andy and Jayne suggested we spend a week with them in the Loire. “The Loire”…”Spending a week in the Loire”…it sounded so posh…and lots of fun – we quickly agreed lest they decided to withdraw the offer!
with numerous Chateaux and stately homes, and bisected by the Loire river. The valley’s terroir produces some lovely wines, particularly around the towns of Saumur and Chinon. The landscape is characterized by rolling hills, forests, rural villages and agriculture. The area is still an important agricultural region of France, including significant beef, pork, poultry, milk and grains. It is also well known for producing Cremant de Loire, a sparkling wine (essentially a 
Champagne – you can’t call it Champagne because only sparkling wines from Champagne can be called Champagne) made primarily from Chenin Blanc in this region. The Cremant is wonderful and refreshing, with flavors of pear, lemon, and honey predominant.
Lunch (La Fou du Roy) was all you could want from France – fresh seafood, amazing wine, and slow pacing. We shared some oysters – nearby Brittany is one of the worlds largest oyster producing regions, and the Breton oysters are not to be missed. The French are very particular about origin and provenance, especially for their seafood – and the restaurant was happy to tell us not only where the oysters were harvested, but when and by who. 
Farm to table is part of their culture. We reluctantly pushed ourselves from the table and headed to Loire Valley Gites, Jayne and Andy’s complex of cottages deep in the countryside. A gite is the French term for a furnished vacation property for rent, typically in rural 
areas. We wound our way through the landscape, passing through many small villages. As we left the little village of Meigne le Vicomte, we turned down a country road, through a few fields and forests, before turning on to the entrance road to Le Bois, our home for the next week.
farmland. When Andy and Jayne discovered the property, it was in considerable disrepair. The original buildings dated from 1750, and comprised the center of a farm property. The previous owner had made an initial start to try to renovate the property, but age and interest caught up with him. Andy said they had been looking for a property for quite some time, but they knew immediately upon surveying the complex of falling down buildings that this was the one for them. A multi-year renovation process resulted in the gites as they are today. One unique and 
distinguishing characteristic of the buildings is the use of tuffeau stone, a local limestone. The yellowish patina on the stone hints at the age of the structures, and drips with character. Andy and Jayne wanted to maintain the original style of the buildings as much as possible – so while completely updated in terms of modern conveniences, the buildings exude ambiance. Farm buildings of this style were typically built in a
post and beam style, with large oak or chestnut timbers. The inside of Le Bois is just spectacular – exposed beams throughout that have been restored, stained, and sealed. I was very impressed with the upper level, where the exposed beams provide a loft-like feel in the bedrooms. You need to be careful in a few areas not to bump your head on one of the cross-beams – one of the compromises of keeping the architectural integrity of the original structure. But it all adds to the charm. We opened the windows in our bedroom and unpacked. While it was a very hot day, the room was cool – another feature of maintaining the original structure, which have thick walls that insulate the inside to a cool temperature. The lilac scented breeze carried in the sounds of the 
countryside – a few songbirds, a distant tractor, and the peace and tranquility of this private setting.
and croissant in the kitchen, we would plan the days activities. There is a lot to do in this region, from visiting one of the many chateaux, to doing wine tours or even kayaking down the Loire river. Or one of our favourite activities – just doing nothing! Le Bois has a 
wonderful heated pool, and we spent several lazy days just hanging around in the pool. One of our first visits was to market day in Langeais, a larger village about 25 minutes away. Langeais has an outstanding medieval castle in its center, dominating the quaint village. We love to explore local markets, and the one at Langeais was 
picture perfect. Local farmers and assorted food producers from the region displayed their products and encouraged us to sample. Both cows and goats milk cheeses are made locally. Selles-sur-Cher is a wonderful, slightly salty goats milk cheese. Cure Nantais is an orange washed rind cows milk cheese with a fantastic smokey, almost bacony, flavor. The 
charcuterie was even more local – various terrines, pates, and saucisson sec. We soon found ourselves loaded down with lots of goodies to try back at Le Bois, along with various baguettes. Andy and I share certain philosophies and views, and we both agreed that, as we were exercising regularly with trips back and forth from the house to the pool for more beer, we felt certain that the additional calories would not be an issue! Another day we all visited a chateau called Chateau de Villandry. It was originally built in the 14th century. 
The gardens were stunning – laid out in a Renaissance style, it was my favourite part of the visit (well, actually my favourite part was the lunch we had at La Doulce Terasse!). The historic significance of this region is very prominent. This was the center of the Duchy of Aquitaine, and the home of Henry II and Eleanor of Aquitaine (famously portrayed by Peter O’Toole and Katherine Hepburn in The Lion in Winter). When King Phillip of France was unsuccessful in peace negotiations with Henry II, his army, allied with Richard the Lionheart (Henry’s son – a true family dispute!), drove Henry in retreat through this region to Henry’s home in Chinon, where he died. Henry II, his wife Eleanor of Aquitaine, and their son Richard the Lionheart are all buried at Fontevraud Abbey, near Chinon. It’s another one of the many interesting things about this region.
We had many great lunches as we explored the region. As we would typically spend the late afternoon and dinner at Le Bois, we reserved our local gastronomic explorations for lunchtime. The French certainly know how to do lunch the proper way. You are never rushed; wine is always part of the meal; and the food is always local. Our typical pattern was to order the house wine – a tip I give to everyone, especially when you are travelling in wine producing regions. The house wine will be what the locals drink; it will always be good; and it will always be the least expensive wine on the menu. We were fortunate that the Loire valley produces some of the best wine in France. While known primarily for white and rose wines, there are also good red wines, especially 
those near Chinon, in the St-Nicolas-de-Bourgueil area. During the day, we would generally stick with white or rose, chilled as it was very hot this time of year (August). In the evening, at Le Bois, we would start with a nice sparkling Cremant, and then usually have a Bourgueil red wine (generally made from Cabernet Franc). The wineries in this region are all small, and generally family owned and run. There are numerous wine tours – Andy and Jayne usually worked in a tour or two when they were hosting family or friends (although Jayne doesn’t drink still wine, Andy picks up the slack for the Craggs family!). One place which really stood out for us as outstanding food and value was Le Bouff’tard, a little unassuming restaurant in a small village called Hommes. 
While not much to look at from the outside, the food, service, and value at Le Bouff’tard were exceptional. We went twice, once on each of our two visits, and both times had the prix fixe lunch menu with house wine. It was hard to believe that such good food could be served for under 16 euros per person. We had other memorable lunches in Saumur and Chinon – usually some type of seafood from Normandy or Brittany, along with local produce. It’s fun to explore this region of little villages. Like we often do while travelling, we get the itch to look at local real estate and dream about converting a little farmhouse of our own. We went out one day to look at a pretty little tuffeau stone cottage and associated 
barns, which had been partially restored, including an inviting swimming pool set within the foundation of an old ruin. I was ready to buy then, and there – but Paula, who is the more rational of the two of us, brought me to my senses. As we were leaving the grounds, Andy backed into a deep drainage on one side of the entrance road, and promptly got his rather expensive SUV stuck. We all got out to have a look – noting the back driver-side wheel just hanging in mid-air, unable to gain traction. We had visions of waiting hours for a tow truck, but for one of the few times in life, I was able to come to the rescue. I noticed a large piece of timber lying in the opposite ditch, which I dragged over and wedged under the wheel. With me pushing down for leverage, Andy was able to work the SUV out of its predicament…and Andy, bless his heart, dubbed me “Action Man” for coming to the rescue! Unfortunately it’s a nickname I would never be able to live up to – sorry Andy!
starting with cheese and charcuterie from our market trips, along with bread from the local bakery. We had talked about doing pizza during one of our trips, and one day we decided to do it. As both Andy and I have a competitive streak, we decided to each make a pizza and then have Jayne and Paula judge which was best. I totally ignored form and tried to focus on simplicity and flavor. Andy, being British, made sure his pizza was properly formed…that is, 
round – vs. my somewhat free form shape. While the girls ultimately refused to crown a winner, I had to tip my hat to Andy’s more traditional shape! On both of our trips, the week went by far too quickly, and it was soon time to say goodbye. For us, and I’m sure for most of you as well, trips like these are always most memorable when we can share them with family or friends. While these types of settings are beautiful by themselves, it’s the time spent with people you love that create long lasting memories. The Loire isn’t necessarily the first area you will think of when considering or planning a trip to France. Clearly, if its your first time in France, you’ll want to spend some days in Paris. But I encourage you to consider visiting this often overlooked region. Its affordable, and will really give you a strong sense of “going local”. As we finished our quick weekend in Orlando visiting Andy and Jayne (who are on holiday in the US), it was great fun remembering the good times we had on these trips. Thank you Andy and Jayne for the laughter, all of the lovely memories, and more to come.
three bedrooms, including a large master bedroom with en suite. The house has a large country kitchen, living room, and dining area. Le Bucheron is an adjacent holiday cottage which sleeps an additional 4 people, and includes its own kitchen, dining, and living room. The compound includes BBQ grills, a heated swimming pool, and is set on 2 very private acres in the French countryside near Meigne Le Vicomte. The property is well maintained, and Andy and Jayne can help you plan your trip with lots of information on local things to do.
tram ride from the train station – you may want to book in advance. It’s worth a trip to the little village of Hommes to eat at La Bouff’tard (5 Place du Huit Mai, 37340 Hommes) – go for lunch and get the prix fixe – it will be the best value meal you find in this region. In Chinon, I would recommend Bistrot de la Place (47 Place du Général de Gaulle, 37500 Chinon), which sits adjacent to a beautiful square with fountain. In Saumur, we really enjoyed 
were fantastic. Also near Saumur, try 
region is known for. We liked 
in 1101, it is the final resting place of Henry II, Eleanor of Aquitaine, and Richard the Lionheart. Finally, another fun thing to do, especially in the summer, is to kayak down the Loire. The river is not that deep, and not extremely swift. There are many places to rent the kayaks – we used
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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 
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 
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.).
counting the little gelato shop near the port) – the hotel restaurants, and 
Asado, Anyone?
Asador, a role he typically assumed for the family asados. The Asador is the grillmaster – he selects the meat; he prepares the grill; he tends the grill; and he serves the meat. It is, as I found, an exhausting job…but one with a lot of pride and satisfaction. The neophyte Yanqui offered to help – I wanted to learn more about grilling the Argentina way. After all, I had grilled and BBQ’d my whole life – should be a simple task. Reuben arrived carrying two enormous bags, obviously very heavy. I did some mental calculations, and immediately assumed he had entirely miscalculated – there were going to be about 10 people at the asado (including a few children), and he had what appeared to be about 12-15 pounds of meat. Well, I thought – perhaps they like leftovers (I now know that Uruguay and Argentina are #1 and #2 in the world for annual per capita beef consumption, at about 120 lbs per person!) I went upstairs to change for the “party”, and then came down to help Reuben. He took one look at me and shook his head “No…is not good” he said as he pointed to my crisp Polo shirt – ”Necesitas cambiar tu camisa”. My shirt? I thought it looked pretty good. ”No – como yo”, he said, pointing to his shirt. Ok – I went back and changed into an old t-shirt I had brought for the beach… a bit overkill for grilling, I thought – but I followed instructions. I was soon to learn that: (a) it gets hot in Buenos Aires – despite the name, there is often no breeze; (b) the asado is a long affair – perhaps 4-5 hours; (c) the Asador (and his helpers) are working the entire time; and (d) I sweat a lot!
has become the drink of choice for the Asador. Not straight, mind you – mixed with Coke. A big glass of Fernet and Coke over ice. I came down in my grubby t-shirt, walked into the back yard by the parrilla (grill), and felt the wave of sticky heat hit me – it wasn’t the grill (by itself) – it was one of those hot, humid days Buenos Aires is known for. Reuben immediately handed me a large cold glass of Fernet and Coke, and then turned to prepare the grill. I took a sip…not bad, a little herbal, but very refreshing. I quickly downed the entire glass. I thought – what a great start to my Asador experience! Reuben turned back and his eyes widened as he saw me finishing the Fernet. “Que pasa?”, I asked. He laughed and showed me that you actually just sip the Fernet slowly over time. While not apparent to me then, I soon learned that Fernet packs an alcoholic wallop – gulping it as I had was a big mistake.
can eat! I was in love – what a celebration! And I learned about the importance of the Asador – when the asado is finished, everyone stands and claps for the Asador – “Aplauso!”. It was exhausting work, and my shirt was destroyed. But I was on my way to learning everything I could about asado, and how I could replicate this back home.
a collection of v-shaped channels that collect fat and move it away from the grill – you don’t want fat dripping on the fire. The grate is permanently tilted at a very slight angle, and the entire grate can be moved up and down by means of a wheel connected by a chain. The general idea is that you control the heat by moving the grate up and down…and you keep fat from dripping on the coals. The bottom of the grill is typically lined with firebricks. The grill is rectangular, and enclosed on three sides. The side of the grill contains a brasero – this is a cage which contains the lump charcoal/wood that is used. The fire is started in the brasero; hot coals drop to the bottom, and then are raked across to the firebox. The old traditional method of the gauchos was to do asado a la cruz – this would be where you wire an entire side of beef or a 
lamb to a metal cross, then jam the cross at a slight angle adjacent to a bed of coals, and let it cook slowly. This is still done in the provinces, but not as much in the cities. The parrilla evolved as a way of replicating the original asado a la cruz – to cook the meat slowly, over a long period of time, with little smoke and no flames touching the meat.
the typical American BBQ which may do 1 or 2 different meats. Typically, the grilling starts with several achuras (offal). Now don’t get put off! For me, this is one of the best parts of the asado. The achuras typically include mollejas (sweetbreads…this is the thymus gland), rinones (kidneys), and chinchulines (small intestines). There are very specific ways of prepping, and grilling, each of these (I won’t go into details on this) – but generally the idea is that each are grilled well done and crispy, and served with lots of lemon. These are my favorite part of an asado – and while many Americans would initially balk at 
the thought of eating these parts, I encourage folks to try them. Next come sausages and cheese– generally chorizo (however, the Argentine chorizo is very, very different than Mexican or Spanish – they ar
you have many different cuts, some familiar to Americans, and some not. They could include Bife de Chorizo (essentially NY Strip); Ojo de Bife (Ribeye); Entrana (skirt steak); Vacio (a type of flank steak); Tira de asado (short ribs that are cross cut); Colita de Cuadril (similar to tri-tip); Matambre (another flank steak); and Lomo (tenderloin). One side note – most Argentinian beef is grass fed, range raised cattle. It does taste different (in my opinion, more beefy). 
we like dry rubs; we like marinades; we like herbs. In an asado, you are really going strictly for the flavor of the meat – for beef, you want beefy…for lamb, you want lamby….for pork, you want porky. Very technical terms, I know. But Argentinians rarely put sauce on their meat when cooking, and rarely smoke their meat. They don’t use dry rubs; they don’t generally use herbs. They use primarily salt (sal parilla, a large grain salt similar to kosher salt)…the meat…and that’s it. Sometimes they bathe the meat in salmuera when grilling – salmuera is essentially a brine that is sprinkled on the meat to keep it moist. The meat is generally cooked long, slow, and for most, to a medium/medium well level. This ties into texture – in the US, we typically value tenderness – this is why filet mignon is the most prized (and expensive) 
cut here. But in Argentina, it’s all about the flavor. Its ok for meat to have some texture (to not be soft) – not that you want it dry/overdone – but softer texture at the expense of flavor is a big no-no. I have rarely seen lomo (tenderloin) at an Argentine asado, because it lacks flavor – when it is on the asado, it’s usually for the children or elderly!
on a table, usually consisting of various salume and cheeses, along with other small items (olives, etc – think antipasto, as the picada is really Italian influenced). I have found that picada presentation is important – there is an art to preparing a picada with geometric precision. The picada is set out, along with wine/beer/etc. Once the picada is finished, a few cold salads are put out (remember, it’s hot in Argentina, thus the focus on cold salads). Very rarely will asado’s include any type of starch (although you might see it in an ensalada rusa – essentially a cold potato salad with carrots, potatoes, and peas). Usually it will be just a few 
types of green salad – perhaps a palmitos salad; ensalada mixta (lettuce, onion and tomatoes) simple sliced tomatoes and onion; or sliced avocado (called
US that are wrong. I’ve read that Argentinians put it on everything – wrong. I’ve read that it is the ketchup of Argentina – completely wrong (ketchup is the ketchup of Argentina). I’ve read that Argentinians use it like Pesto – yuck!! I’ve never seen an Argentinian use chimichurri on their pasta! I’ve even read that Argentinians marinate their meat in chimichurri – also completely wrong. I guess people are fascinated with this condiment, and so the stories take on a life of their own. Essentially, chimichurri is a condiment made with parsley, oregano, garlic, salt, pepper, oil and vinegar – at its basic. Everyone has their own little twist – and frequently it’s made with a mild pepper we can’t get in the US – aji molido. The only thing I really like chimichurri on is a choripan (which may be the subject of another blog post). For meat, I prefer (and many Argentinians prefer) salsa criolla. Salsa criolla is something between a condiment and a salad. In most restaurants, it’s more like a condiment – slightly more liquid. At home, we make it with more 
substance. It is very simple – diced fresh tomato; diced onion; diced bell pepper; oil and vinegar; salt. You can put very tiny amounts of the vegetables and more of the oil/vinegar, and make it more like a little sauce; or you can, as we do, make it with slightly more vegetables so it is thicker – we put a spoon or two beside our meat to give a little bit of piquancy to the bite. Whether its chimichurri or salsa criolla – a little bit goes a long way. You don’t slather these on them meat. Just a tiny amount like you would use salt or pepper. Or, just use nothing at all – the beef, lamb, or pork flavor should stand on its own.
the craft beer movement has taken root strongly in Buenos Aires, I really prefer Quilmes, more or less the national beer. It’s a light German lager – some people may think it’s a bit bland, but on a hot day, its wonderful. But for me, an asado isn’t an asado without a good Malbec. Argentina produces some amazing wines, particularly in Mendoza, the Napa of Argentina. We are somewhat limited on what we can get in the US with respect to Malbecs. I often think some of the best stay right there in Argentina. Like we do with 
beef, Argentina imposes trade restrictions on imported wine – so while you can get great Argentinian wine there, its difficult to find a good selection of wines from other countries. Therefore, I think they save their best for themselves (as they should!) Here, I would suggest Catena Malbec – from what is arguably the most venerated wine family in Argentina.