Well, well,… Christmas has come and gone and look at us, smack bang in the middle of a new year! Bonne Annee mon amis! We have a new beginning to continue the same life as last year or introduce something new. I know it’s difficult for some of you to get out of the routine for many reasons but I’m asking you to just contemplate an alternate road or patch of grass or another window of opportunity and HOLD that thought.

Can you imagine yourself here on french grass in Flavigny perhaps, in the heart of Burgundy?

(You do remember my escapades on the trek for more than chocolate? go to http://myfrenchawakening.wordpress.com/tag/flavigney-sur-ozerain/ )

or take a peep down any one of the country roads you could be driving through on your next France adventure…

or look out from some other window- a french window. Come on! My french awakening sees no harm in discovering a new view which is very different from the one you’re seeing now perhaps?

Life is sometimes greener on the other side particularly if you’re travelling through the south of France…

or the north east corner…  (remember Colmar? http://myfrenchawakening.wordpress.com/2011/01/02/awaken-to-a-new-year-in-colmar/ )

or from this window in the east, at Quemigny-sur-Seine, France…

and more views from country France from modern frames…

and ancient ones in eighth century stone as at Mont St Michel (remember Awaken to Mont St Michel? See http://myfrenchawakening.wordpress.com/tag/mont-st-michel/ )

And if you fancy yourself as more of a city mouse than a country mouse, you might appreciate looking out from the windows behind wrought iron balconies in Paris…

Or from that very special window in a beautiful french village in between.

The view’s not bad from here.

Just imagine.

Give France a thought this year. It won’t disappoint.

Au revoir,

Best Wishes, Therese Waddell

copyright@Therese Waddell 2012

The last month of 2011 has stirred from slumber, its manic face ready to perform the Season of Silliness. December is a crazy month isn’t it but somehow it can allow great things and blustering dreams to foster. It  happened to me two years ago way back in December 2009. I began blogging and writing about France and before I knew it, two years has elapsed and I guess that’s a pretty long time in the sea of French awakenings and things in general, don’t you think?

Two years of marking French time, transporting ideas and images from me to you and hopefully sending maybe just a tad of genuine inspiration into a cyberspace I know very little of. You my lovely, have followed my ramblings of travel hints and stories in and about France and relived my fond memories (and maybe yours) all this time without one complaint and without one sniff of cynical air or dose of friendly doubt.

Some of you have liked a photograph from my little trustworthy camera…

while others will smell the smells, taste the tastes and soak up the real passion and joie de vivre of French living. That’s just who you are I guess. You take the good stuff with you on your journey every time.

And I love that! I love your comments and your support even though most of you would not recognise me as I pass you by in the street.

All along though, I’ve been aware of your presence on your side of the invisibility cloak, silently nodding in the act of contrition. Yes, sometimes we do regret and are remorseful together in the fact that holidays don’t come all the time and we cannot get to France as regularly as we would want and stay in magical French places like this one all the time…

(Well I haven’t bought my little house in France yet to invite you all over!) I hear the long sigh…

However my friend, I remain very happy in the fact that we can fill our minds with images of this beautiful country and my french awakening is widened further by your own knowledge and clear memories, commenting and sharing French experiences. I’ve learnt a lot from you without ever putting your face to a name sometimes.

Soul to soul and friends apart, I want to thank you firstly for reading my humble blog on France and my french awakening and secondly (as it’s December), I’d like to wish you and your family a beautiful Christmas 2011 from one francophile heart to another.

Let’s continue to dream.

Au revoir,

Best Wishes, Therese  xx

I’ve decided to let you in on a secret. I’m not French. I pretend to be in a very big way. (Je ne comprends pas! I do not understand!) Maybe I need to see some councillor who specializes in split personas, specifically split nationalities and I may be cured in time. Do I have the time to lie around on a couch professing to a total stranger all sorts of whims and dreams, maybe learning how to reprogram myself by perhaps repeating all sorts of rapid eye movement therapeutic games to delete ones memory of all things French?  I don’t know.

I blame my father. He would sing and do a little dance whilst reciting French nouns to me from his little school boy companion, ‘Castell’- known to some as a French Language Book. To me it was like witchcraft. It had powers yet to be overcome.

I blame France too. Heady with gourmet aromas, her gluttonous arms swooping up the world’s best produce and finest cuisines, artistic nourishment and fashionista icons…stop me anytime. France wooed me like the best of lovers and I surrended to France body and soul; hence the birth of My French Awakening!

I feel that now it may be too late and there’s no turning back. My friends don’t discourage me enough. They shouldn’t give me gifts, ‘Made in France’ like Eiffel Tower tea towels (dear Domenica) and books on The Paris Markets (sweet Cathy) and French paper weights, French DVDs, postcards, stationery, jewellery, perfume, brooches, cognac, jams, mustards and so on. My French collection has bred faster than you can say “truffle”.

And my closest friends definately shouldn’t travel to France with me (are you listening dear The’re’se?) and energise the devil within. Revitalising the French spirit comes with untold consequences.

My family will confirm I’m obsessed. It’s out of control. I’m now have an ongoing relationship with a small real estate office in the south of France which sends me emails and photographs of potential homes from chateaus to delapidated barns. I’ll take anything really if I could.

And last weekend, I started hallucinating again and set about pretending my entire home was in France. Rousing friends dressed up with feathered hats and berets, scarves and frills to a French luncheon on our lawn.They actively encouraged me to cook a five course French Provincial menu using my French recipes from The Paris International Cooking School (you remember http://myfrenchawakening.wordpress.com/2011/06/15/awaken-to-the-paris-international-cooking-school/ don’t you?) and my travels across France. There was leek and potato soup, blue cheese tart and auvergnate salad, Mont St Michel style Scallops, beef with Potato Lardon and Aubergine Bitteroise and a choc, nutty, brandied meringue and carmel shard dessert. Oh, did I mention the French bubbly? My son even made French stencils for me for the coffees! Now that’s feeding the addiction if I don’t know what!

Let me show you a few snaps and the extent of my condition.

You be the judge. It’s not fair really. I don’t live in France. I don’t live in France. I don’t live in France. Awaken. Awaken.

Au revoir,

Best Wishes to you,

Therese Waddell

It HAS been a while. I hope you’re exactly as I left you last month as good things never change and you good people remain so from day to day, month to month and every year on. However, I hope you’re feeling good even though we feel the throb of busyness and a grinding ache for halcyon days at times.

My french awakening learned a long time ago that Paris, the fabulous City of Lights, can be what you want it to be and apart from bringing you stimulation and inspiration at an elevated level, it can actually bring you great peace…if you are looking.

Not a lot of people look for peace when travelling through Paris. They’re too engrossed buzzing about in a whirlwind of buying, snapping, smiling into cameras and ticking off formidable lists of places to see and do. Yes, queue with tour groups if you must but at least once and a while take the alternate route and set your own pace. Hit the grass and brace yourself to just take in the air.

Why? Well for one thing, having just finished reading Kathryrn Stockett’s book, ‘The Help’-

(some of you may have recently seen the film of the same title), I came away with a conclusive quote of impassioned wisdom which I thought I’d pass onto good people like yourselves.

…”‘You is kind. You is smart. You is important…”

Three very deserving reasons why we should lay low and just look to the sky when in Paris. Take a worm’s eye view of a Paris sky and embark on your green island in any one of the Paris Gardens to soak up some tres chic air and recapture the space we need and feel.

What does that feel like? I’m glad you asked…

You probably already know that Paris has been historically a city where many Peace Treaties have been signed for the benefit of mankind. The Treaty of Peace in Paris (way back in 1783) ended the American Revolutionary War with Great Britain and The Paris Peace Accords was signed to end the Vietnam War in 1973. There’s a whole lot more peace since then.

Just goes to prove that a slice of Paris peace couldn’t do you any harm at all.

Au Revoir,

Best Wishes until next time,

Therese Waddell

copyright@2011 Therese Waddell

What are we doing wrong to have allowed August to creep up upon us so quickly? Everything is flying passed at a phenomenal rate and the world makes you crazy, unless of course we are on holidays.

The French awaken to summer holidays in August and flee Paris for the south- to “escape to the country” (as my dear friend Kerry would exclaim in a full bodied British accent) and soak up the warmth and magnificent colour of her landscapes.

You too could head for something like this…

on the way to Castres in the Midi Pyrenees region in south western France for instance. No wonder the French head south. This was where for my french awakening, the true colours of France came shining through.

My “Road To Provence Quilt” commemorates the supreme colours of the South of France.

The pattern is available at www.quiltingthejourney.com for anyone interested in either buying the pattern or have me make a quilt for you or a friend.

Go on. Experience France in all its summery glory in August and in the meantime, let YOUR colours shine through this week.

In the word’s of Cyndi Lauper,

“I see your true colours and that’s why I love you

So don’t be afraid to let them show,

You’re true colours

True colours

Are beautiful like a rainbow.”

Au Revoir,

Best Wishes, Therese Waddell

Not yet subscribed to ‘My French Awakening? Sign up for your free subscription and we’ll send you info on French news and places to see and do across France with stories, quilts and photography.

copyright@2011 Therese Waddell

I have only one pearl of wisdom for you beautiful people today.

The topic? French Ice Cream.

My advice? If I were you travelling through France, don’t leave the country without trying French Ice Cream. Like me, you won’t care if it’s Winter, wait and see…

French ice cream (or creme glace) according to my french awakening tastebuds, will excite and soothe at the same time. Made of egg yolks,  it’s truly distinct. Velvety cold and creamy on the tongue with a glorious frangrant hit of vanilla after the first few licks.

You MUST try French ice cream. For a couple of euros, ignore the cholesterol and take time to build some gustative memories!

The first ice cream recipe in France dates back to 1674. Nowadays, Berthillon ice cream is regarded as one of the best in France. The original ice creamery is still located on the Ille St Louis in Paris. (Take the metro to St Paul or Pont Marie). It continues to sell wonderful fruity flavours including apple, raspberry, pear, orange,strawberry, blackcurrant, mandarin, lychee, lemon, grapefruit, peach and so on. Their sorbets are equally diverse and fabulous. The same goes for the exceptional Tea Rooms next door which is run by Berthillon’s grand daughter.

The last time I was in line, rhubarb sorbet was very popular but I myself can’t go past plain vanille. It never disappoints! A testament to Raymond Berthillon’s expertise afterall he’s been making my vanilla ice cream every day for the last 57 years and continues to do so today at the magnificent age of 82! Wow! 57 years of ice cream making! What an achievement!

One day I should like to meet the father of my vanilla ice cream.

Don’t be discouraged by the long queue outside the shop. Great things take time! I promise you it will be worth it. Wonderful ice cream in Summer or in the depths of a Paris Winter.

The location to the shop may help you here: http://translate.google.com.au/translate?hl=en&sl=fr&tl=en&u=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.berthillon.fr%2F

There are many other shops dotted across France which sell the Berthillon brand. If you don’t get to taste theirs, try any ice creamery, such as the one at the base of Mont Saint Michel. That’s where my photo was taken. And that’s where the gustative memories began.

Mmmm. I can taste it even now.

Au revoir,

Best Wishes, Therese Waddell

Not yet subscribed to ‘My French Awakening? Sign up for your free subscription and we’ll send you info on French news and places to see and do across France with stories and photography.

copyright@2011 Therese Waddell

I have some news. At long last I’ve kissed goodbye my old quilting website and forged on through ugly IT jargon to produce something new and fresh with new quilt designs from my french awakening. This is your introduction to a whole new Custom made Quilt Section- my very special Memory Quilt Section which may touch the heart and give you some comfort for loving friends and family the way you do. What does it all mean? Well, just go to http://www.quiltingthejourney.com and have a good look. There’s something for you.

Even though some of you darling people haven’t the foggiest idea on how to sew, I have some easy quilts that will get you started, like my ‘Diamonds Are Forever Quilt’ and a very special section introducing Custom Made Memory Quilts using precious fabrics (of ties, cotton shirts, dresses and so on) from loved ones who have passed away and giving me the honour of combining and transforming such pieces into a beautiful quilt to snuggle under. Colours and design will match personality and I can’t think of anything better than being wrapped in a quilt like this, can you?

Just to give you an idea, my latest Custom Memory Quilt was for a lovely lady who had lost her husband too soon. She provided me with his favourite silk ties which I combined with gorgeous silk from the south of France. They lived near the sea and loved these rich nautical colours so I called the Quilt,’ St Tropez To The Stars- In Loving Memory of John- The Real Star.’

It gave me a lot of satisfaction to see that she loved the quilt so much!

A special Custom Made Memory Quilt is just what you need to sooth the soul and an answer to not bearing to throw out sentimental clothing of someone you have loved. You know what I mean.

Or perhaps you and yours are lucky enough to still be in the land of the living and would love any of my patterns made up in your own glorious favourite colours for your home or as a beautiful gift, so just send me your enquiries at the following email address at therese@quiltingthejourney.com   

I’ll be adding new quilts to my new site for you to enjoy. Subscribe to the RSS feed on the site so as not to miss out on updates.

I hope your having a fabulous day and thankyou for your wonderful wishes of support as always.

Best Wishes, Therese

It’s my birthday week and it somehow turns my thoughts to life and death and the space in between. From year to year, this space is filled with every gammet of human emotion as well as our  dreams and biggest challenges. We all want this space to be magnificent. I hope it is for you right now.

Thinking about the cycle of life and death led me to thoughts of near death experiences. Those times when we experience a hint of impending finality here on earth and then perhaps something much more.

Have you ever had a near death experience? I mean a profound wake up call to impending death. I’ve read that these experiences are often documented with scientific and even religious significance but I’ve never heard of one that was connected to the taste buds…until mine.

Did you know that the French hold the honour of organising the world’s first ‘Near Death Experience Conference’? Yes, over 1500 delegates including doctors, patients and researchers gathered near the port of Marseille on this single day in 2006. I wasn’t present if that’s what you’re thinking.

A near death experience for me happened while holidaying in the beautiful south west of France in the village of Revel. I was left with one almighty aftertaste if you allow me to explain.

I had great recommendations of a fabulous Saturday market in Revel and I knew it was a lovely village to visit. Beautiful and interesting, it will keep you and yours happy for weeks and more as you wander around among the other nine thousand or so locals with plenty to see and do. But the main incentive for me this time was the hunt to find the perfect cake shop.

It was the divine trio of pizza, boulangerie and patisserie housed under the name of ‘Panetiere’ at 24 Boulevarde de la Republique in Revel which really caught my attention and as many of you will attest, finding the perfect cake is no easy feat. I’ve known maruding cake snufflers who go to great lengths to sniff out the best of cakes or pizzas  for that matter, like some truffle hunting pig and who do not fully exhale until they find their divine sweet or savoury treasure.

My dearest friend who masks sometimes as a formula 1 Driver, did just that. She had found Panetiere- PERFECTION in pizzas, breads and cakes. The Father, Son and Holy Ghost of pastry perfection across the entire south west of France and my french awakening could never ignore any great french culinary skills in pastry making! How could you?

Don’t get me wrong now. It’s not fancy in terms of Paris displays but it does offer divine little cakes and savoury morsels and marvellous pizzas. Rustic alluring pizzas at that. So divine in fact that their triggering of a single salivary gland has potentially high risk factors and I’m not talking about whispers of widening hips and calorific content!

So, here’s the patisserie…It doesn’t look much from the outside except that by now the wafting warm aromas of sweet pastry grew its beautiful tendrils in our direction…

and yes, yes, you will notice I’ve taken the photo from the middle of the road. I underestimated how long it would take to get to the other side and the pace at which the cars came speeding around the corner. Stupid I know. Patisseries and pizza parlours have that effect on me. I can’t help it… I think it’s genetic.

A car swerved to miss me and sprayed my legs with a sudden petrol gust in its momentum. I stood there motionless and of course, in shock. For an instant I felt a bright light. I can’t say how long I stood there. It wasn’t long enough to meet any dead relatives, but I felt transfixed to a bright light  in the patisserie window across the road.

About ten minutes later, on a bench around the corner, I asked myself,

“Was it worth it-the photograph? Sadly, No.

The pear tarte ? OH YEEES!”

For you too when you get to Revel, choose a little spot in the sun  to spoil yourself or find our park bench on Avenue Charles de Gaule around the corner from the shop. It will be the one covered with a few scattered crumbs!

I don’t remember what happened after that euphoric consumption. All I knew was that I had the aftertaste of near death in my mouth and I remained speechless for quite some time which is a shock to some. However, it didn’t stop our eating.

Jean Jacques Charbonnier, one of the French scientists who was present at the NDE Conference, claimed that his patients who had undergone near death experiences, actually felt that it was a positive thing and felt less attached to material things. I couldn’t agree more with the positivity but can one count a pear tart as a ‘material’ thing?

I would consider it ethereal. With a still warm, lightly aromatic poached French pear held in gossamer pastry, I knew why it tasted so sublime, so… heavenly. A gift from God, non?

Travel for miles for your pear tarte or your chocolate ganache if that’s your taste or you may not live to regret it.

Remember the Arbois chocolate hunt don’t you? http://myfrenchawakening.wordpress.com/2010/05/29/awaken-to-hirsingers-french-chocolate-in-arbois/

Life is too short. Death will come. Fill the space between with something magnificent.

Au Revoir,

Best Wishes, Therese

Copyright@Therese Waddell 2011

I’ve always been in two minds about takeaway food. I guess I grew up in an organised world where very little was left to chance and meals were carefully planned. There was only one day we digressed from routine and that happened to be on a Friday evening where the theme of catholic abstinence from red meat meant that fish and chips was the only real alternative in an era where the sushi train hadn’t blown its whistle.

I can recall vividly the ink print from thickened newspaper in which the hand cut chips were wrapped and there was no light seasoning of parsley and garlic that some gourmet places offer today. The smell of heavy salt and tangy lemons which had been cut into large quarters (lemons like everything else was so big back then!) nestled happily amongst fresh, thickly battered fish. The smell alone was unforgettable. Friday night fish and chips sometimes went hand in hand with a block of Cadbury’s Caramello chocolate for dessert (well it HAD to be Caramello as the commercial went…) Who remembers this ad on telly?

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TtMv4N9rN8c

The Caramello Block was evenly distributed by someone reliable and fair while the entire family watched television together. They were glorious evenings spent together and no one relegated themselves to some wee corner of the house with their own high tech gadget speaking a different language.

On other days our kitchen savoured great cooking and healthy eating which meant no takeaway bringing too salty, too sugary, too fatty, MSG and other additive enriched food oozing inconspicuously in today’s takeaway institutions. I guess I never grew an appreciation for this type of  food especially those which offered gimmicky toys and collector plastics.

It was not until I travelled to France when I discovered that good takeaway (and heavenly at the same time) could be purchased cheaply and quickly, savoured as much as home cooked or restaurant food and be a miraculous alternative when travelling across France.

My french awakening has come to the conclusion that quality is paramount in French takeaway food but I want you to be the judge of that. Allow me to show you some dishes I’ve purchased, photographed and eaten all for the cause from French supermarkets in the suburbs of Paris and beyond.

Here we have a delicious seafood paella which was purchased straight out of a brewing caldron…

I’ve bought many varieties of delicious sizzling seafood and beef casseroles and cold meats from the back section of any fresh food supermarket not to mention fab cheeses and crackers and even dirt cheap wines for as little as 2 euro!

While travelling through France, don’t be hesitant in wandering through French supermarkets. You’ll be able to pick up substantial meals at a fraction of the cost of a takeaway meal back home- and definately more appetitising! Each day offers different hot foods. Each a surprise. Take it all for a fun picnic under the Eiffel Tower perhaps. You may recall http://myfrenchawakening.wordpress.com/2010/01/29/awaken-to-the-eiffel-tower/

In the warmer months, salads can be bought over the counter like my salmon salad for instance…

Walk around a typical French supermarket and here’s a sample of things you could purchase, like these finds for breakfast or morning tea… Quetsches are plums by the way and makes a lovely jam!

Aromatic French tea and coffee,baguettes, jams, mustards and other condiments are offered here and are expensive elsewhere. This means you can have your own little French breakfast (petit dejeuner) such as http://myfrenchawakening.wordpress.com/2010/04/18/awaken-to-jam-recipes-and-french-breakfasts/ and relive France in your kitchen back home.

The Carrefour Group of supermarkets in particular, support French producers of fruit and vegetables. It’s very easy to spot French products now with the use of  little red, white and blue flags to draw attention to their own products. Perhaps we should do the same thing here?

The kiddiwinks and the young at heart however may dart into this aisle for an introduction into cereals and chocolate treats for making hot chocolate for instance.

I bought home quite a few boxes of French drinking chocolate for the kids from this aisle! Go into the sweets aisle and you’ll be hard pressed to come out alive if you don’t buy them French nougat and chocolate!

Supermarkets have an oasis of French products for you to purchase at half the cost. You can pick up your gifts to take home to family and friends across the globe and they will LOVE you for it!

We bought truffle wine and foie gras here too for the foodie in the family. (Moi!)

The diary aisle will entice you with a fresh array of heavenly cakes and custard desserts if there is no patisserie open. These were delectable and cost 3.50 euro for both- one for me and one for the driver. I call them ‘Heaven In Motion”!

There are well established gourmet food halls in Paris as you already know at http://myfrenchawakening.wordpress.com/2009/12/10/awakening-to-paris-gourmet/

which is a cook or chef’s delight, but the humble supermarket can give you results economically and quickly. Ther’es something to be said in trying to be local (when you’re not).

And yes, I like takeaway food in France. Do you? What have you experienced?

Au Revoir,

Best Wishes, Therese Waddell

copyright@2011 Therese Waddell

How are we? It’s Friday here and the beginning of school holidays. It’s that fabulous evening when you breathe out real slowly and stop running on work time and kiss goodbye our “Groundhog Days” of  routine and minute snatching. For one solid evening we choose to run on empty-a sublime emptiness where new dreams are given enough room to unveil themselves and curl open in the back crevice of your brain. Ever feel like that yourself?

I start to imagine things I want to do and things which bring me great inspiration on these evenings. Strangely enough there springs to mind one beautiful evening in the miniscule French village of Cult, (with a grand total of 218 inhabitants), where I felt the same thing as this one- thinking about the possibilities. Thinking BIG.

Let me show you. I thought you might appreciate some snaps of my french awakening that particular evening when the earth stood still- as it should from time to time.

Perhaps they might trigger a few pulses of good intentions. As for me this evening, a new quilting project is brewing away to celebrate the holidays. (Good enough reason for now anyway). For you, if you’re maybe sitting miles across the planet and who are not on holidays, I hope you manage to snatch a few inspirational moments over the weekend.

Have a good one.

Au Revoir,

Best Wishes, Therese