Je Suis une Écrivaine...

I am a writer and I live year round at a writer's retreat.

My favorite writing spot… at the kitchen window.

Sometime in the not-so-distant past, I began to tell people I met, in French, that I was an “ecrivaine”—a writer. It was an easier answer than explaining that I was a cooking teacher or that I taught online and with videos, did gastronomic tours, consulted with professionals, etc. Everyone knew what a cookbook was, and it was a somewhat respectable thing in France to be published, even if not in the classic arts littéraires. 

But one published book does not make a writer. Even two. What about blogs and other self-publishing? It all seemed a little “Inventing Anna” to me. (The Netflix series, which I loved!) Was I pretending? Could I pull it off without other support? Was I “dangerously close” to fooling everyone? That old imposter’s syndrome reared its ugly head even after so many years, decades. So when I officially retired as an experienced and expert teacher, I took a long look at what I was really doing now and what I would do next. What did I want to do? Just one word fit—write. Just write.

It seemed like a monumental step to take at this late stage in life, changing careers at the stroke of a pen—that clichéd imagery is not lost on me. I spend the better part of my working time doing just that—writing and selling my work. My tax forms now say writer/author. And my French visa declares it officielle—écrivaine. And if you are reading this, you’re one very good reason that… je suis une écrivaine. Substack and your support as a subscriber helped make this all possible. 

As no garden is dug in a day, no recipe is mastered in a meal. This, too, is not an overnight process. The move to think, act and declare myself a writer has been a long time coming. While I published my first book, a cookbook with stories, in 1995, I considered myself a one-hit wonder—like some of my favorite songs, although for years I wrote tens of thousands of words. I wrote my own brochure text, newsletters, editorial copy for travel and food-related sites, press releases, dozens of newspaper and magazine articles (Saveur, LA Times), scores of recipes with long, elaborate headnotes, and even more unpublished stories. I noodled privately on a murder mystery series, a shallow but feel-good novella (that is alive again!), and a fantasy travel epic in the form of a novel. I wrote and published a second cookbook, Cassoulet- A French Obsession. During the pandemic years, I published a 12-part series called A Gascon Year- over 600 pages of essays, stories, photographs, and 150 recipes gleaned from over 15 years of blog posts and other writing. I can write. So what has changed now that I am 71?

The complex machinery that earned me a living—butchery and charcuterie programs, French cooking classes, and gastronomic tours in France and Spain; workshops abroad; and professional mentoring—shifted away from in-person experiences to be temporarily replaced with videos and live Zoom classes during ‘those years.” Through it all, I continued to write and took my writing as a means to a new end. Doing what I really wanted to do above all else. Write. 

framboises+ tonic+ grapefruit = The Signpainter

Oh, and pick raspberries! and make up new cocktails for them, and make sandwich-salads with the new vegetables from the garden: young fennel, pickled green coriander, roquette, and nasturtium leaves. So many nasturtiums this year! So much good food to cook!

If the first thing I did was to declare myself a writer/author/ecrivaine, then the second thing was to make sure I would produce and surround myself with the most productive atmosphere I could imagine- quiet, peaceful, fertile, inspired by nature. And there was nowhere I’d rather be than…here. Home. Camont. I’ve spent years creating a beautiful and creative place in which to live and work. Why change location now? Rather, why not change the intent of this working/studio/home? And so the Relais de Camont was born, or retooled, or tweaked. I created the place I would like to go to on retreat. And now you can come, too.

Three Desks for you...

I love a desk- and now at Camont, there are five of them. That is where I work. At a desk or at a kitchen table. Upstairs in my office over the barn kitchen, or more recently, in the Garden Suite, looking out at the striped awninged terrace and new forest garden (see last post here). In this 3-bedroom part of the house, the 18th-century oxen barn, I host friends and any working residents who help keep things ticking over here. I only have to walk outside to the gravel and raised beds to see what’s for supper or gather a fresh bouquet for my kitchen window sill. 

Le Relais de Camont: Salon, Pigeonnier, Cuisine

The rest of the house, the 2-bedroom pigeonnier ( and the off-grid Cabane in the shady oak parc), is now open for visiting writers, artists, and other creatives. This was my way of ensuring the whole property would be cared for… and shared. And that the quiet atmosphere of productivity and creativity was honored throughout the year. This is the now Relais de Camont, and while it is listed as a writer’s retreat or creative residency, this is also a place where someone who needs a breath of fresh air might find solace and peace, read a book, take a floral bath, or do a little gardening. We all seek creativity in our lives, and if you are like me, it sometimes starts with penetrating the outside seed shell, and then roots thread out invisibly before the sprout appears above the ground. The garden is a living metaphor for this slow but sure, invisible process that bursts onto the scene as summer bounty of creativity. 

What’s cooking for Summer? Salad/Sandwiches!

Sandwich Salads with Garden Sauce

Now the June days lengthen impossibly to the peak solstice moment and the musical celebration in every small village in France, la Fête de la Musique. It is still light when I climb into bed; the ceiling fan turns slowly as the warm days dispel into cool evenings. The residents and I plan a bbq and a large garden salad for a late Sunday lunch or an early supper. I want to harvest the bright edible flowers and young vegetables, dress them in a gentle herbal vinaigrette as I taste the pungent green leaves- roquette, nasturtium, sorrel, and turnip, one by one, dragging the leaves through the puddle of sharp sauce one by one. 

Here’s a favorite way to make a dipping/dragging herbal sauce—part aioli, part mayo, part vinaigrette.

Foraging in the Forest Garden: sage, nasturtiums, squash blossoms, mint, chives.

Recipe for a Garden Salad Sauce

While the Mother Sauces are part of the lexicon of French cooking, there is another level of sauces in our everyday country kitchens— vinaigrettes, aioli, wine-enriched pan juices, and citrusy dressings. These are tossed on grated vegetables (carotte rapée), served alongside crudités and cooked vegetables (grand aioli), or drizzled over a hot Côte de Boeuf (Steak Bordelaise). I make these quick, uncooked sauces when I want something sharp and acidic (think wine, lemon, vinegar), herbal (tarragon, chervil, thyme), and thick enough to cling to a slice of fennel, a half a tomato, or to dress a half a baguette for a BGT (Bacon Greens Tomato).

Begin by gathering a scant handful of fresh soft-leaved herbs- chives, parsley, tarragon, thyme, sorrel, and a few edible flowers- nasturtium, calendula/marigold, pansy, squash blossom. Chop finely, place in a jam jar, and add about ⅓ cup of an acid-based liquid- white wine, vinegar, citrus juice. Add salt, pepper. Cover and shake and let sit for a few minutes. 

Next, balance the infused herbal liquid by adding a teaspoon of confiture, or honey and a teaspoon of Dijon-style mustard, and stir to dissolve it into the liquid. Add ⅔ cup of a very good oil—a neutral one like sunflower or colza, or peppery fresh olive oil. Shake vigorously in the jam jar until emulsified or use an immersion blender. This is the base vinaigrette sauce. 

anchovy caper vinaigrette on a steak salad sandwich

Use as is or add other ingredients to flavor or intensify the sauce- anchovies, capers, yogurt, bleu cheese, shallots, ginger, chili flakes, etc. To make a thicker dip, you can thicken it with two egg yolks and more oil, like making aioli or mayonnaise.

Next, serve with fresh raw vegetables, over a mixed green salad, or dress the bread of a salad sandwich. Remember, Summer cooking is more about bringing things to the table than long hours at the stove.

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“Shopping is Cooking; Gardening is Shopping!”