Provence with everything

Evelyn Daube

Say the word 'Provence' and you release the genii of commerce from a bottle of tarragon vinegar. French regional food has become an object of ridicule and we have Provence-mad Graphic Designers to thank for it. Graphic Designers are a lovable crew. They are all very slim and keep their coloured pencils in Keiller marmalade jars. They all love Provence but the D'ordogne will do. In summer they wear cricketing whites or khaki peg-top trousers as they run to get their presentation spreads laminated. In winter they wear bright little wool scarves tied in a throwaway Rupert Bear fashion.

It is a well-known fact that a Graphic Designer cannot put down his large zipped portfolio in a crowded pub. Thus, the wine bar was born. You can get some really nice Provencal food in wine bars these days. After slaving all morning in the studio, what could be more welcome than a portion of ratatouille to get the Spray Mount out of your nostrils?

The Provence industry was given its first major push by the excellent Mrs David and later by the English-language edition of La Veritable Cuisine Provencale et Nivoise, a work of utter hysteria. The recipes in this book are very authoritative but the author, M. Jean-Noel Escudier, is so evoking: 'A fish caught at dawn, cleaned, rinsed with sea water and put on a grill with a branch of fennel in its flanks and, while browning, basted with a little bouquet of thyme dip- ped in olive oil. The Provencal savouring this simple delicacy sees again his blue sea, his beaches, his pine forests and his coves ... '

Meanwhile, back in Graphic Designer Land a thousand plats du jour are being carefully chalked up. What oft is eaten and ne'r so well expressed. The chalk used to be plain white with a crumbly texture, but now it is usually pink and pale green as well to give that little Post-Modern touch. This endless chalking is a feast for the eye if not the palate. If you ignore M. Escudier's recipes altogether, Provencal food is so easy to do. Just add a bit of garlic and two tins of Italian tomatoes to anything and voi/ci.

The French are so good at lettering that in Graphic Designer Land the food is a mere vehicle for flowing rustic script. Who can scribble across a jar of mustard like the French ? It is astonishing that simple Pro- vencal peasants have such strong, loopy handwriting. They write and write over everything: across jars of M. Escudier's succulent, sun-plumped black olives; over moutarde pots by the million, sinister crocks of confit and dashing bottles of fragrant tarragon vinegar. These peasants have a wonderful way with a pen. You

would never dream that most of the time they are drowning kittens and slitting the throats of lonely travellers on the road to Marseilles.

This year my vote for the best Provencal loopy handwriting goes to Shampers Wine Bar in Kingly Street, London WI, an amiable and well-run rendezvous for Graphic Designers and other media folk. Apart from three major chalk deposits in- side, there was this autumn a sweet little blackboard set up on an easel in the win- dow. In white, pink and green it ran: 'Dish of the Day: Rack of Lamb Provencale: delicious lamb cutlets coated in Dijon mustard and herbes de Provence, lightly grilled and served in a spicey [sic] sauce Provencale, with a green salad.'

This was an outright winner. Not only in this short passage was Provence mentioned three times, but there was a geographical fair-mindedness in giving northern Dijon a look in. As an added bonus, the word 'Pro- vence', flanked by two bunches of grapes, is painted to simulate chalk on the front of the bar. This is a friendly Australian place, with chic brown paper tablecloths (first pioneered by La Poule au Pot in Ebury Street) and a large propeller fan for Graphic Designers who have seen Casablanca.

After your aerobics class you may wish to do a little Provencal shopping. A good place for this is Liberty's department store which has a large area devoted to herbes de Provence. It seems that in Saint-Remy-de- Provence (France) there is a firm called L'Herbier de Provence who will sell you 25 grammes of dried parsley for a mere 90p.

mother and I got married today.' Beaumes de Venise. Another old Provencal firm, Crabtree & Evelyn of Savile Row and Woodstock Connecticut, will also sell you a small bottle of olive oil for £2.95. This is 'Made only from tiny ripe Olives de Nice' and has , beautiful Graphically Designed label. Ne%` to a decaying water mill it shows a Proven' cal couple dancing, he in a red stocking OP and she in a red bodice. I looked closely at this label and I think they are both from Sorrento and doing the saltarello. Other Provencal delicacies may be had from a new food shop, Les Amis 0°131',- mands in Covent Garden, capital °' Graphic Designer Land. The front of thri:i shop is dragged in buff and recently cent, t to the window was a display of Knorr Pae',e. soups imported direct from France ill tile original Provencal dialect. Thus we have `Potage de Poule au Pot au Vermicelle' which is sold in my local Safeways as MO Chicken Noodle. Even British Rail has g°,11e, Provencal. The other day I was bound for Surbiton and at Waterloo station there a stall in which two Provencal peasant g7.fts were selling country croissants stuffed wit" cheese. And very revolting they were tc)c).1'

This has been the year of the wine bar and my second vote must go to one

,t which the word 'Provencal' has Ilvid appeared for two months. This is the in Compton Wine Bar, 21 Old ConWt°,5 Street, London' WI, owned by Wileeiean Fish Restaurant and managed by aThy from Barcelona who steps forward srna—,, and pours you a drink with conviction. .."; this wine bar we have at last crossed teak Pyrenees and the decor takes you right bansbans to the days when bohemians made ar a from Mateus Rose bottles. There are instbe few crayfish clinging to the walls argiuek occasional parchment lamp shade s`t with jaunty Punt e Mes labels. which I had 'Wheeler's famous fish pa'te ked salmon or both, whizzed up w.r-- bntit of h snic)tter, might have been smoked mackerel, parsley and an extraordinary arn°,11;ead salt. It came with three huge lumps 0' `" ca on md paa npi ioenc e hoa df par ec-i ewcreanpt p he de i pAi nngc fa and Sidney with a baked potato. It din pity it was tepid but, as I recollect, foot_ was an inneavuetrheins tvicersypahnoits,hsowady ooubftIc!: doubtless king o :Inli steak and kidney pie. With two boano Rioja, the bill came to £6.50. I sa but Graphic Designers in this wine bar'e a- plenty of well-known drunks who were RhOneckaaind joying its ruby-dark atmosphere. Meanwhile, full of Cotes du made jam label from the Fens. A cot' au

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