"You Don't Mess Around with Aioli"

It's 9:49 PM.  The kids have settled into late summer bedtimes, but they're sleeping now. And I'm polishing off a glass of wine, watching Anthony Bourdain live the dream in the Provence region of France. He is watching a woman crush garlic with a mortar and pestle, ever so gently adding the egg, gingerly mixing in the oil. They are whispering. She is making it inside because it is too windy out... now she's glaring at the cameras.  I cannot blame her for taking her sustenance seriously.

I LOVE the idea of a daily routine that revolves around the butcher shop, the bakery and the fromagerie. Then, just taking that haul home and cooking it up -- but barely, because it's all so good and so fresh, very little cooking is necessary.  Add friends and family around the table, a dash of beautiful scenery. Next day, Repeat. (Oh, and maybe toss in making a living somehow?)

Simplicity. They're painting a picture of how I'd love to live, and for the cost of airfare and lodging, we could sojourn a while there.  I guess that's why 80% of the region's economy is based on tourism.  Mr. Bourdain reminds us that Provence used to mean workers and peasants; "synonymous with hard work," he says... Wasn't "provincial" once even an insult? Now it could be the new Pottery Barn line.  Now, it's that basic, quaint, farm-to-table lifestyle so many of us (I) crave.

...

Anyway, it's 10:15 PM. Episode's over, and I'll spare you the rest of my reverie and just tell you, I am inspired.  And I am just so fortunate as to not have any major plans for tomorrow... except to head out for some garlic, fresh eggs, lemon juice and olive oil.  Simple.  "Once you start slathering it on your vegetables and fish... it all makes sense."  I can't wait.

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