A COOKING TOUR OF PROVENÇE 

“So, who would like to join me on a traditional cooking tour to Provençe?” our culinary instructor asked one evening during a cooking class. Without hesitation, I put down the artichoke I was trimming, and my hand shot up. Could this be an answer to a dream calling my name? 

Less than a year before, I retired as a family therapist and traveled with my husband to Italy for a month. We had been privileged to be introduced to not only locals in both small and large villages throughout Italy, but also to their traditional foods, wines, and festivals. This experience whetted my appetite to learn more about cultures abroad and, also, about the families. (Yes, I had retired but my interest in families never waned.) I wanted to know everything: their stories, traditions, recipes, favorite foods and, of course, wines. Obviously, I needed an angle; a way to return to Europe, so I decided it would be through food. Yes, I began a career as a culinary travel writer through my unquenchable interest in families and traditional cuisine.

The tour to Provençe took me to many villages, which included the Roman city of Arles, just north of the Côte d’Azur, along the Rhone River. Here, I was taught recipes obtained from Nostradamus (yes, that one) and ancient Phoenician mariners who, two thousand years before, had stopped along the river and swapped recipes, spices, and stories from their homeland. My first cooking class, in fact, was held in the same abode that had once been a Roman stable. What was not to like? I wanted to know about the people, the history that influenced the Provençal culture, and, oh, what were all those wonderful flavors that are unique to this region? As I discovered in Italy, the same truths in Provençe were revealed. If I pursue the history of traditional dishes, the peoples’ stories will follow. 

Indeed, after my trip to the south of France, I was asked by my culinary teacher to help set up cooking tours in both France and Italy. She was searching for unique places of interest to visit, and where traditional recipes and customs were most prevalent and highly regarded. At that time, the world seemed to be moving from an interest in ‘haute cuisine’ within high-end restaurants to cuisine pauvre or peasant cooking in France or cucina povera in Italy. While my teacher discovered recipes, I interviewed the families who had learned those very same dishes at their grandmother’s knee. So, at their family tables, and over the food they shared, I began to write . . . and to write . . . and to write.

“What was your favorite dish as a child? What favorite recipes do you make for your families today? What foods did you prepare for your family as a young wife?” These were some of the questions I began to ask. I learned if I want to understand a people or a culture, I must dig down into the history of both family and place. Once, when I asked an elderly French woman a simple question like, ‘What dishes did you prepare for your family as a young wife?’ I had failed to consider her age or the history of the time in which she had lived. This dear woman responded with a twinkle in her eye, a toss of her head, and with laughter that came from deep inside. “Why, my dear,” she said, “we never had to diet.” She smiled. “It was during World War II; my husband was in the French Resistance and we all were in hiding high in the hills of the Auvergne Region. We were lucky to have a potato or two for the entire family.”

That particular response changed my life—and how I asked my questions. No longer would I glibly question without taking into consideration a person’s history and the global ramifications of the times in which they lived. In fact, I began to open up dialogue even more, because her story was one I could not shake. (I ended up writing her story as an historical novel entitled, A Cup of Redemption published in 2014.)

From that interview forward, I included questions about the impact of war on families, even though world wars in Europe had been fought over seventy-five years before. I began to travel to France with World War II veterans from the U.S. to understand the experience more fully for both the veterans and the French. I discovered when war is fought on one’s own doorstep, family dynamics change for generations to come. When one’s grandparents suffer great losses, whether of family members, jobs, or privilege, those messages are carried forward and lives are structured accordingly. If they experienced near starvation, body memories foster an undeniable fear of being without food and the importance of food becomes central. Traditional meals are celebrated regularly, if not nightly. I learned the meaning of life not only reflects the communal experience of a cherished recipe at the family table, but also embraces the sharing of the day, the hardships, the joys and laughter, the stories . . . and most of all precious time with family.

To have been able to record even one moment of these stories with the many families I interviewed over the years was, indeed, precious. I am one extremely fortunate writer.

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A retired family therapist, CAROLE BUMPUS began writing about food and travel when she stumbled upon the amazing stories of women and war in France. She has traveled extensively throughout France and Italy, where she has interviewed more than seventy-five families to date for her food and travel blogs.

She published an historical novel, A Cup of Redemption, in 2014, and her unique companion cookbook, Recipes for Redemption: A Companion Cookbook to A Cup of Redemption, in August 2015.  Book One of her Savoring the Olde Ways Series, called Searching for Family and Traditions at the French Table, was published in August 2019 to excellent reviews. She is an active member in The California Writers Club and The Women’s National Book Association. Bumpus lives in the San Francisco Bay Area, where she teaches classes on writing, does public speaking, and continues to write about women, food, and war. Visit her website at CaroleBumpus.com.

Tags: featured, women writers

Category: On Writing