Author: Thomas Wilcox

11:27PM  |  Bussière-sur-Ouche  |  France

Croissants and coffee this morning on the Place Carnot, Beaune’s central square. We head south mid morning through the Côte d’Or and out the St. Aubin valley to the Chateau de la Rochepot. The castle dates from the 13th century, and was carefully and lovingly restored in the 19th century by a local family. Rochepot boasts classic Burgundian tiled roofs, a bright and sunny courtyard, and a 230 foot well through solid rock dug entirely by hand in 1228.

Lunch back in Beaune — escargots, aligoté — then a stroll through the streets and an exquisite raspberry tart. Back in the car, we head west through beautiful rolling hills full of poppies and white Charolais cattle. The road leads us through dark forests, past tiny stone towns, and a stretch along the picturesque Burgundy canal.

The Abbaye de la Bussière, our home for the next two nights, is a magnificent property, with beautiful gothic buildings and impeccably tended grounds. Once a summer retreat for the wealthy bishops of nearby Dijon, the main buildings have been converted from an Abbey dating to 1131, and the inside of the building is extraordinary. Stained glass and stone staircases adorn the reception hall, and the one-star dining room is in an open two-story atrium with stone columns and a blacony.

We check in and take a walk around the grounds, which include an old mill wheel, stables, bee hives, a functioning winery and cave, a 12th century underground chapel, and a lake swimming with beavers and geese. We find a boat and take a quick spin around the lake, before returning to the main property for an afternoon on the lawn.

Dinner is an exceptional eight course tasting menu, with too many details to name. Highlights include a creamy and whipped Abbaye de Citeaux cheese dish, roasted pigeon on a bed of puréed peas,  and a sous-vide unnamed saltwater fish with kale juice as a garnish. Macon from Louis Michel, unusually dense Savigny 1er cru from an unknown vigneron, and a rosé Champagne from Leroy Duval are among the several memorable wines.

11:51PM  |  Beaune  |  France

We started the morning on the road, driving due north out of Provence, past Lyon, and into Burgundy. The terrain flattens out and the hills become greener; the sun today is clear and very warm.

We make it to Beaune by noon, grab some provisions in the market, and head south to Volnay. On a bench in the town square, in the shadow of the Volnay church spire, we spread out picnic between us and enjoy a lunch overlooking the sprawling Côte d’Or. Fresh warm bread, cheeses, sanglier saussicon, strawberries, and chocolate.

After checking into our hotel, we tour the Hospices to Beaune, a hospital for the poor founded in 1443. The Hospice is a remarkably well preserved landmark in the center of Beaune, known today as much for its annual wine auction as anything else. It’s not often the professions of wine and medicine overlap, but the tour brings smiles of recognition to both our faces today.

For dinner, we join three members of the Gros family at a new restaurant a few blocks from our hotel on the Place Carnot. The meal is outstanding — slow poached egg with morel mushrooms and asparagus, crusted duck with turnip and rosemary, and rhubarb compote with concentrated vanilla ice cream. Chassange and castles tomorrow, then the Abbey for dinner.

11:54PM  |  Violès  |  France

We took our coffee in Vaison-la-Romaine this morning, in view of the extensive, sprawling weekly market. The market is an impressive collection of vendors selling everything from meats to wicker baskets to clothes to soaps and spices. We grab a few souvenirs, then head back to Gigondas.

At 11 we meet some old friends for a tasting at their domaine just outside the village. We taste through white, rosé, and red, all familiar but somehow fresher in the place they’re made. After a quick tour of the cellars, we head to neighboring Séguret for a delightful, leisurely lunch in the same sun-filled terrace restaurant from Sunday. We drink ice cold rosé, and toast the family absent from the table; after dessert (pear aumonières, and crème caramel) and coffee, we bid adieu and head back to Violès to write a few cartes postales.

Birthday dinner a day late is at the Oustalet, a restaurant in Gigondas perfectly placed on the town square overlooking the valley. We arrive at 8pm, over an hour before sunset, as the warm evening begins to settle into night. Lights are strung between the sycamore and olive trees, and the fading sun plays beautifully off the leaves. The food is as magical as the setting: monkfish, mushroom risotto, sea bass, and foie de volaille, all prepared with minimalist elegance. For wine, a white from our Burgundian friends at Domaine de l’Arlot, and a few glasses of a local Muscat de Beaumes de Venises.

A perfect and charming end to a lovely few days in Provence, full of wine, food, markets, friends, and sun. Tomorrow north to Burgundy.

11:18PM  |  Violès  |  France

The morning is cool, clear, and sunny; light bounces from the shimmering olive trees. Began the morning with a trip to the local market for lettuce, fruit, sausage, olives, and a collection of cheeses.

We drive across the valley to Vaison-la-Romaine, a Roman era town set on the side of the river Ouvèze. After a lunch of foie gras salad and chicken in mustard cream sauce, we tour the Roman ruins — a remarkable collection of well preserved foundations and streets built over two millennia ago. As the afternoon sun intensifies, we grab some gelato (coconut and cassis) and head back to Violès.

Dinner in the courtyard of our little apartment — fresh baguette, tapenade, salad, Comté, Brie de Meaux, and Barolo. A digestif of Pastis, and makeshift birthday cake in chocolate pastries. Market and wine tasting tomorrow.

10:48PM  |  Violès  |  France

A cloudless summit of Mont Blanc greets us on our final morning in Chamonix. After breakfast in a streetside café, we pack our car and head east, out of the Alps and into the Savoie. We drive past orchards, cows, and vineyards as the dense forest behind us fades into flower-filled meadows.

We pass into the Rhône Valley as the sun dips in the sky, and the light strikes warmly off Mont Ventoux in the distance. Once off the highway we circle the Châteauneuf-du-Pape appellation, with its unmistakable galet roules-filled vineyards. We pull into the sleepy town of Violès, and find our charming old apartment, complete with a stone sink and small garden courtyard.

Dinner is ten minutes away in Séguret, member of the “Prettiest Towns in France” group; quaint cobblestone streets are lined with rose bushes and flower pots.  Drinks and dinner on a veranda overlooking the patchwork of vineyards; steak frites and a bottle of Séguret under honeysuckle and the setting sun.

An angular beauty.  When it’s made well, Puligny-Montrachet is the most elegant of white Burgundies. Though long and rich like its neighbors from Chassagne and Meursault, Puligny shows an added minerality and tension, making it a combination of class and energy in the glass. As writer Jay McInerney once put it, Puligny is “the Grace Kelly of wines.”

It’s amazing what even a little bottle age can do, even for a white wine. A few weeks ago in Harpswell we served the 2011 Gérard Thomas Puligny Montrachet 1er cru with steamed lobster and abundant butter. Lobster may usually be the culinary star of a meal, but that night the Puligny outshone it in complexity and class.

Drinking window.  With only a few years in the bottle, this wine has added both depth and complexity. It has gained hints of woodsiness and baked fruit aromas without losing its classic Puligny tension. Several readers bought this a few years ago when it was released — if you still have some, it’s drinking beautifully. For those who didn’t (or have already run out), we’ve got just a few cases at the warehouse.

Lobster is a perfect pairing for this wine, but those shellfish-averse, try a hard cow’s milk cheese. We’ve spent the last few days in Chamonix, at the base of the massive Mont Blanc, where such mountain cheeses — Comté, Reblochon, Raclette, and Beaufort — are ubiquitous. White Burgundy, particularly one as elegant as Puligny, would make a lovely match.

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THOMAS Puligny Montrachet 1er cru “la Garenne” 2011
Ansonia Retail: $54
case, half-case: $48/bot

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AVAILABLE IN 6- AND 12- BOTTLE LOTS

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Email Tom to place an order.

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10:41PM  |  Chamonix-Mont-Blanc  |  France

For our last day in the Alps we board a cog railway up the south wall of the Mont Blanc Valley. The 20 minute ride brings us from the valley floor up to the base of the Mer de Glace glacier at 6100 feet. The giant “sea of ice” is 220 feet deep and over 4 miles long, snaking between towering jagged peaks. After a nerve racking gondola ride down the steep side of the gorge, we begin the 430 step climb down to the surface.

The Mer de Glace has been a popular tourist attraction since the early 1800s, and now hosts hundreds of visitors every day, ranging from small children to serious ice climbers. Today its most popular feature is an ice cave carved anew each year into the glacier’s surface. Amid the dim lighting we pass tiny bubbles of air and small rocks frozen into the surface of the ice — an otherworldly vision of the passage of time.

We pass the afternoon with a bit of shopping and cocktails in the square, as a cloud-draped Mont Blanc looms above the town; at dinner we realize we’ve eaten 8 of 9 dinners en plein air. Tomorrow we leave the mountains for the warmer plains of Provence.

10:45PM  |  Chamonix-Mont-Blanc  |  France

Croissants and coffee on the pedestrian street in Chamonix, then a stop at the local grocery for provisions. We drive east along the valley floor — another perfectly clear blue day. At the base of a winter-only chairlift we park the car, and hike towards the base of the slope.

The first half of the hike is wooded switchbacks, cut into a remarkably steep forest-covered slope. We gain 2000 feet in an hour and a half, and are panting by the time we reach the plain. We lunch in the abandoned plaza of the sprawling Argentière ski center; we’re the only souls for miles on a deck that held hundreds of skiers just months ago. The final leg of the climb is up a dirt road to a lookout at the base of the Argentière Glacier.

Before us across a gorge is an extraordinary wall of jagged blue-white ice, hundreds of feet tall. Waterfalls and tiny flows of water stream from the massive face glacier, which is wedged between towering stone valley walls. With a periodic audible cracking sound, small chunks of ice fall from the wall and tumble down into the pile of snow below. From our perspective, it appears as much like a breathing giant as any geological force.

The hike back down is long, picturesque, and tiring. Dinner —  even more satisfying than usual — is a hearty local dish called Tartiflette Savoyard, made with potatoes, bacon, and the local favorite Reblochon cheese. A nostalgic fromage blanc for dessert.

11:28PM  |  Chamonix-Mont-Blanc  |  France

We begin the morning with croissants (chocolat and beurre), coffee, and the French Open. We pick up sandwiches, chocolate, fruit, saucisson, and comté. After a dizzying drive through Les Houches just south of Chamonix, we park the car and begin the hike.

The Tour du Mont Blanc is a 100 mile loop surrounding the massive peak, and passing through France, Switzerland, and Italy. Today’s trek was a section along the north side of the Chamonix valley. Under crystal blue skies, 80 degree sun, and an icy breeze, we make our way up the steep wooded slope, scrambling over rock slides and carefully picking our way through stream-filled ravines. After a few hours of stony switchbacks we reach the summit.

We break for lunch on the deck of the Refuge de Bellachat. The view across the valley is magnificent, with the towering Mont Blanc covered in snow and glaciers. Hang gliders float above us across the gorge, and the town of Chamonix bustles thousands of feet below. We explore the summit, begin our descent, and cross paths with a herd of alpine idex (mountain goats).

Dinner back in town: salad, fondue, and Crozes-Hermitage. Glacier tomorrow.

11:18PM  |  Chamonix-Mont-Blanc  |  France

We bid farewell to the sparkling Lake Como this morning, after a last minute coffee and some sugar cookies for the road. Our route takes us south toward Milan, then northwest toward the mountains. We’ve decided to cross the Alps via the Simplon Pass, a crossing in use since the Stone Age, but made famous during the reign of Napoleon.

On this crystal clear day, the pass is simply spectacular. Gently winding roads weave between jagged mountains and across alpine fields dotted with grazing cows and ancient stone cottages. We pull off the main road into the sleepy and immaculate Swiss town of Simplon, where we grab a coffee in a sunny window seat. Just after Simplon, the gentle uphill grade reverses, and we slowly wind down a dramatic valley.

We break for lunch in Brig, then head west across the Vallais canton along the Rhône River. At the end of the valley, we climb rapidly over the Mont de l’Arpile, and cross into France as we descend into the Chamonix Valley. The valley feels like Colorado — unpaved roads, wooden roadside buildings, massive mountains covered in pines below and snow above.

The town of Chamonix isn’t quite empty, but it’s unmistakable off-season here; the Mont Blanc towers unimaginably tall above the town. After a weather report from the hotel’s front desk, we plan our hikes for the rest of the week. Soup a l’Oignon for dinner on a square in the centre ville; up the northern wall of the valley tomorrow.

11:35PM  |  Sala Comacina  |  Italy

Began the morning driving through winding streets to the Sacri Monti of Ossuccio, a series of 17th century churches perched along an ancient cobblestone road. We climbed past all fourteen tiny chapels, each depicting a different scene in life-size wooden figures.

At the top was a bar/trattoria full of a huge, talkative Italian family. Considering this endorsement enough, we sat down for a lovely lunchtime meal in a garden in back of the 16th century church named for the Madonna del Soccorso — pasta, vino rosso, and an incredible “torto santuario” made from chocolate, pears, and likely something divine.

Back in Sala Comacina, we found a boat to take us to the small island in the harbor of our town. The only island in the entire lake, Isola Comacina has a remarkable history, with stone foundations dating back to 50 AD, and the ruins of several churches built in the 8th and 12th centuries.

Dinner for our final night in Italy was back on the harborside piazza just steps from our front door. We ate speck-filled ravioli, and gorgonzola-topped steak, as the sun retreated up the mountains across the lake. Communication skills should improve tomorrow as we cross into Switzerland and France, but the view will be hard to beat.