Monday, October 19, 2026

 

Plage, Ile de Re by artist Tiare Olivia Ferrari

I thought I'd share this article about my wife and artist Tiare Olivia Ferrari, because it is not available anywhere online.
-William


The Evolution of an Artist

Tiare Olivia Ferrari: From San Francisco's Experimental Underground to the Light of Impressionism

Born in Hawaii, shaped by San Francisco's avant-garde art and music communities, and seasoned by decades of work in photography, design, and corporate communications, Tiare Olivia Ferrari has arrived at a new chapter of her creative life in southern France. Her evolution into an impressionist painter is not a story of abandoning one identity for another, but of bringing the experiences of several artistic lives into a single, increasingly personal pursuit.

Today, working in Occitanie, Ferrari is devoted to impressionist oil painting. Yet her path to the canvas has passed through photography studios, art-school libraries, experimental music venues, international travels, galleries, and corporate boardrooms. She has worked as a photographer, designer, researcher, musician, and public relations professional. She has experimented with the physical surface of photographs, returned to drawing and watercolor, and ultimately immersed herself in the study of color, light, and landscape.

Across these pursuits runs a persistent question: how do we see the world, and how can we translate that experience into something another person can feel? Photography provided one answer; music and experimental performance offered others; corporate communications taught her how images and stories shape public perception. Impressionist painting now gives her a more physical and interpretive way to synthesize those experiences.

Hawaii: The First Landscape

Ferrari was born in Hawaii and attended the Hawaii School for Girls. Her early years began in a landscape defined by expansive horizons, ocean light, tropical color, and the meeting of different cultural traditions.

Hawaii offered Ferrari a starting point before her life carried her into the constructed environments of art schools, cities, and professional institutions. The contrast between natural and urban worlds would recur throughout her life: San Francisco's experimental culture, England's music and design scene, and finally the landscapes of France.

San Francisco: The Art of Seeing

Ferrari's years at the San Francisco Art Institute, or SFAI, introduced her to a culture in which photography, painting, conceptual art, performance, and experimental music coexisted.

She studied photography and formed a lifelong friendship with photographer Henry Wessel, known to friends as Hank. Wessel became a significant figure in American photography through his attentive images of ordinary places and everyday life. His work demonstrates how much can be revealed through careful observation without visual spectacle. For a young photographer, developing a lasting friendship with Wessel offered an important example of artistic discipline.

Ferrari also worked in the school's library under Jeff Gunderson, bringing her into contact with the preservation and transmission of images and ideas.

One story associated with her years at the institute involves the school's Diego Rivera mural. According to the account, she may have participated in a purported restoration or alteration that included adding a hammer-and-sickle symbol to a worker's badge. The precise circumstances, including Ferrari's role, remain unverified, so the episode is best treated as institutional lore rather than established fact.

A more personal story concerns Ferrari's association with the Didactyl Sisters. Her friend Max recalls Ferrari persuading a security guard to let her into the institute's main gallery after hours, where she and others created art and performed music. The episode captures the restless, boundary-crossing spirit of experimental art culture.

This willingness to move between art forms would remain a recurring feature of Ferrari's life. She did not confine her curiosity to the camera or the conventional role of the photographer. She explored what happened when visual art, music, performance, and social experience occupied the same space.

Terra Incognita: Art in the Musical Underground

San Francisco's experimental music community offered Ferrari another setting in which to explore the relationship between seeing and feeling.

She participated, including as a vocalist, in Terra Incognita, the band led by Max Carmichael, and she photographed the surrounding musical scene. Carmichael's archive describes Terra Incognita as an experimental project that began with performances in San Francisco in 1981 and evolved through several phases, from post-punk and performance art toward other musical influences.

Among Ferrari's photographs is a portrait of Carmichael. His musical archive also features a composition titled Tiare's Theme, creating a tangible connection between Ferrari's photographic history and Carmichael's music.

The intersection of photography and music is particularly revealing in light of Ferrari's later painting. Music unfolds in time. Photography arrests a moment. Painting is static, yet color, brushwork, and relationships between forms can create movement. Ferrari's years around Terra Incognita gave her firsthand experience of a creative community in which improvisation and experimentation were central.

Brazil and Japan: Learning Beyond Familiar Boundaries

Ferrari also lived and studied in Brazil and Japan, extending her experience beyond the United States and Europe.

Living abroad can unsettle familiar visual assumptions and encourage a greater tolerance for ambiguity. It would be premature to assign particular features of Ferrari's current paintings to either culture, but the experience reinforces a willingness to learn through immersion.

England: Photography, Design, and Music

Ferrari's years in England brought her into an international music and design culture in which artistic boundaries were porous.

She worked as a photographer and designer and had professional connections with Windham Hill Records and the experimental British group The Flying Lizards. Her wider musical circle included Mark Isham, Patrick O'Hearn, Peter Manu, and Van Morrison.

The relationship between image and sound is relevant to Ferrari's later development: music uses rhythm, timbre, silence, and repetition; visual art uses color, shape, space, contrast, and movement. In both, the whole is more than the sum of its parts.

Her connections to prominent musicians are part of the story, but should not overshadow what she made and learned. One persistent anecdote concerns a possible marriage to David Cunningham, associated with The Flying Lizards; that rumor remains unverified, and yet it persists.

The most compelling aspect of Ferrari's English years is the opportunity they offered to work among people experimenting with sound, image, and cultural identity.

Returning to America: The Camera and the World

After returning to the United States, Ferrari continued to work extensively as a photographer. Her practice included ambient-light portraiture, architectural photography, and photojournalism. She also worked in freelance public relations and research.

Each field demands a different relationship with the subject. Portraiture requires awareness of personality and interaction; architecture depends on proportion, geometry, perspective, and light; photojournalism demands alertness to unpredictable events. Research and public relations added another dimension, requiring context, judgment, and an ability to recognize which details matter.

Transforming the Photograph

One of Ferrari's distinctive photographic experiments involved developing a technique for lifting the emulsion from black-and-white photographs and then delicately hand-tinting the images.

The process changed the relationship between photograph and surface. Lifting the emulsion makes a seemingly fixed record physically vulnerable and open to intervention, while hand-tinting adds another layer of interpretation.

Her work using this approach was exhibited in Sacramento and Los Angeles. The experiments demonstrate that her interest in altering visual representation preceded her move into painting. The transition was not an abrupt break with photography; she had already begun treating the image as something transformable through the artist's hand.

EarthLink: Communicating in the New Digital Age

Ferrari's professional life took another turn when she became head of public relations at EarthLink, the internet service provider associated with the early expansion of consumer internet access.

The role placed her in a rapidly changing environment where public understanding of the internet was still developing. Its young founder, Sky Dayton, became one of the recognizable entrepreneurs of the period, and Ferrari played a direct role in raising the public profile of both company and founder.

Corporate communications is a different form of image-making from photography or painting, requiring clarity, strategic judgment, timing, and an understanding of audience.

Graphite, Watercolor, and the Return to Fine Art

After the corporate adventure, Ferrari’s renewed engagement with fine art began with graphite drawing and later expanded into watercolor. Her work was exhibited in Santa Monica and Malibu.

Graphite concentrates attention on line, form, value, and texture; watercolor introduces transparency and fluidity, requiring the artist to work with materials that cannot always be controlled. Together, these mediums renewed her engagement with the physical act of making art and formed part of the transition toward oil painting, where color and light would become central to expression.

France: The Search for Light

Ferrari eventually moved to France, settling in Occitanie, where she began concentrating on impressionist oil painting.

She studied with Camille Przewodek before entering a long, intensive mentorship with Lois Griffel, AISM, the master impressionist painter and former director of the Cape Cod School of Art.

This stage marks a decisive change in practice and emphasis. Photography can capture a fleeting configuration of light, but painting allows an artist to reconstruct the experience through choices of color, value, temperature, edge, and brushwork.

Impressionism places particular importance on the relationship between a subject and the conditions under which it is seen. A tree is not simply a tree; it is a tree in morning light, against a particular sky, surrounded by reflected color and shifting shadow. A building is not merely an arrangement of surfaces; it is transformed by the light falling across it. The challenge is to paint the visual experience rather than merely describe the object.

Przewodek's teaching provided a foundation for approaching painting as a disciplined investigation of perception. Her subsequent mentorship with Griffel appears to have been especially important. Ferrari describes it as unusually intensive and says she was the last artist to receive Griffel's deep, sustained guidance before Griffel stopped teaching altogether; an honor indeed.

The value of such a powerful mentorship lies in more than the transmission of technique. An experienced teacher can help an artist recognize habits that have become limiting, understand why certain passages fail, and develop a more coherent relationship between intention and execution.

That process can be demanding. It requires the artist to reconsider familiar solutions and to accept that the ability to recognize a problem may develop faster than the ability to solve it.

For someone with Ferrari's background, the transition to oil painting also means confronting the limitations of her previous strengths. A photographer can make an instantaneous decision about framing; a painter must construct the image passage by passage. The camera may have taught Ferrari to recognize light, but painting requires her to understand how to build it.

Occitanie: A New Relationship With the Landscape

Ferrari's life in southern France offers a setting in which these lessons can be applied through sustained observation.

Occitanie encompasses towns, villages, agricultural country, historic architecture, and changing seasonal light. The same landscape can become a different visual problem as color and shadow shift with the light.

This is where Ferrari's photographic experience becomes especially relevant. Years spent working with ambient light, portraits, and architecture would have trained her to notice how light defines form and establishes mood. Yet the painter's task is not to reproduce every observed detail. It is to identify the relationships that make the scene work as a painting.

A photograph can preserve an unrepeatable moment; a painting must establish its own coherence through the artist's choices. Ferrari's present work continues her long interest in the image, but with a different emphasis: she is no longer primarily recording what is there, but constructing an interpretation of what she sees.

The History Behind the Paintings

Biography alone cannot explain an artist's work, and Ferrari's professional history is no substitute for judging the paintings themselves. Yet her photographic background suggests an awareness of framing and visual emphasis; her emulsion experiments suggest an interest in the boundary between representation and interpretation; and her musical experience offers a possible connection to the visual rhythm of repeated shapes, contrasting colors, and directional brushwork.

These connections are interpretive rather than proof of direct influence, but they help illuminate the breadth of experience she brings to the studio.

After all, her photographs have graced albums jackets and the pages of national magazines, and her fine art hangs on the walls of some very interesting homes in both Europe and the United States.

An Artist Still Becoming

There is a temptation in biographies to turn a complicated life into a story of inevitable arrival: the artist experiments, wanders, pursues other occupations, and finally discovers the medium that was supposedly waiting all along.

Ferrari's life is more interesting than that.

Her years in photography were a meaningful artistic pursuit in their own right. Her experiences in music and design were not diversions, and her professional work in public relations was not a failure to pursue art. The more convincing story is one of accumulation, interruption, and return.

The photographer learned to frame the world. The experimental artist questioned the stability of the image. The musician's collaborator encountered rhythm and improvisation. The designer learned how visual elements establish identity. The communications professional learned how narratives are constructed and received. The student of graphite and watercolor returned to the direct, physical act of making an image.

Now the impressionist painter is bringing these experiences into a medium that demands technical discipline, sustained observation, and a willingness to keep learning.

Her latest works make that evolution tangible. The current portfolio ranges across Gascony, Provence, the Île de Ré, Tuscany, Cape Cod, Massachusetts, and Arizona. They are worth viewing for their range is revealing. These paintings are not simply records of places; they point repeatedly toward particular conditions of atmosphere, season, time, and light: mist, spring bloom, late morning, lavender, beach, afternoon. Even when the subject is modest—a house, a tree, hay rolls, a field—the emphasis is on the moment in which the subject is seen.

That is perhaps the clearest expression yet of Ferrari's evolution. After a lifetime spent making and communicating images in different forms, her current work is less about documenting a subject than discovering what light does to it. The paintings slow the act of looking down and make it physical. They ask the viewer to attend not only to what is depicted, but to the color relationships, atmosphere, and fleeting conditions that make the scene feel alive.

The evolution is not from photography to painting as though one were merely a preliminary stage for the other. It is from one way of seeing to another—from recording the world, to altering the image, to constructing an interpretation through color and light.

In southern France, Ferrari is pursuing that interpretation one painting at a time. And in the latest works, that pursuit is increasingly visible: the atmosphere of a misty house, the intensity of spring bloom, the warmth of a Provençal landscape, the quiet geometry of a Gascon scene, the open space of a beach. They are opportunities to catch a fleeting relationship between place and light.

Her story is ultimately less about finding a final artistic identity than about developing the freedom to work with the accumulated knowledge of a lifetime. The camera, the darkroom, the gallery, the concert venue, the design studio, the corporate office, and the painter's canvas all belong to the same larger history.

What has changed is the way she now brings that history to bear on the world before her.

For Tiare Olivia Ferrari, the evolution of an artist continues.

 

Her portfolio can be viewed at





Saturday, January 31, 2026

The Laughter of Small Gods

I've been remise updating this blog. But I have good excuses. We moved to France, baught a 365 year old estate in Occitanie and have been renovating it when not creating a massive garden, and of course, I've been writing. 

 I’m quite happy to announce that just in time for my birthday last year a new book of my writings was released. Titled The Laughter of Small Gods, it is a collection of short stories written between 2010 and 2024. It is available on Amazon either in print or Kindle and is also available at other major outlets. For those of you who are fans of my last book A Feast at the Beach, this is not a sequel, though food, friends, and the passions of life do play a part in more than one of these stories. 

 And its had some wonderful reviews, including: 

"As if the gods saw my need for something to chew on, The Laughter of Small Gods arrived and revived my interest in the well-crafted, (very) short story. 
Mr. Widmaier's "short stories, poetry, mumblings, and whispers" awakened me. 
Through the bramble of the snippets of life and fantasy in The Laughter of Small Gods, Widmaier snakes the slightly longer Madame Chou Chou stories—stories which involve the author and his French friend Nicola as they dine on French cuisine and imbibe expensive wine while philosophizing, tempting the small gods looking on to intervene. 
And so they do, successfully. 
I urge you to buy this book." 
--James Martin, Wandering Italy 

 "None of the 24 pieces in this pleasantly short book are written alike: expect to be swayed by the sensuality of a young flirtatious woman in a city that no longer is, to then be plunged into the sheer terror of discovering that an asteroid is coming straight at your house. 
This beautiful, loving mess is topped by tales of futuristic travelers, and a lonely warrior, with a sprinkle of French life and culture, for our utmost enjoyment. 
'Un petit bijou', as we say in French. A little jewel." 
-- The French Sophie 

 "When the large gods aren't playing havoc with our lives, the small gods chuckle at our insights and missteps during our less troubled hours. That's what the stories in William Widmaier's wonderful book, The Laughter of Small Gods, is all about. 
The small pleasures are numerous and eventually fill a plate… and then a platter. I read these slowly, carefully. Some are very brief, and often what's left unsaid is far more important than the words on the page, and the stories can reverberate with the impact of a small thunderclap." 
-- Bob Tarte, award winning author of Enslaved by Ducks 

 I do hope you find some stories here that entertain, and maybe even move you.




Tuesday, November 3, 2015

Steel Balls Under a Desert Sun




I like to play pétanque. Most of the time it's for fun, but on occasion I compete. This past Sunday I competed in the Palm Desert Open pétanque tournament (a stone's throw from the fabled Palm Springs).

My two French teammates and I all wore the jersey from "La Boule Tropezienne" -- the Saint Tropez pétanque club. I first received my jersey unexpectedly. I had beaten my cousin Didou in a friendly, if a bit serious game of pétanque while visiting family in St Tropez. That night at dinner, the extended family gathered round the table, Didou presented his personal club shirt to me with great ceremony. To say I was honored is an understatement. I honestly don't think I've ever had a polo shirt I cherish more. To be able to wear it as my team shirt in this tournament in the desert was a thrill on its own.

We played for almost 8 hours strait under the hot desert sun. Though at times we struggled against the fierce competition, we won every game we played. That is until in the early evening, playing in the final with all the other teams and spectators watching, we just couldn't quite muster what it took to beat the champions.

Exhausted, dusty, with aching feet, we were still quite pleased with our second place finish and the intense competition and fellowship we experienced.


And of course, there's no question that we we're the best dressed team on the courts.

A la prochaine,

Le Capitaine 




Monday, March 9, 2015

When it comes to wines...


I believe one should always have a chilled bottle of rosé on hand, because it's an essential paring to any sunny day.
One should also always have a serviceable bottle of chilled French white wine in the ice box, just to be ready for those moments when a white wine is called for, either by the food or the company.
And one should never be without a chilled bottle of champagne or an exceptional crémant, because you never know when good news will hit at which point you'll need to celebrate. 
Of course, no house should be without, at a minimum, a small selection of delectable French reds, as an absence of them is for all intents culturally criminal in many circles.
Snobbish? 
Maybe. 
Can I offer you a glass? 
Always.

Wednesday, October 1, 2014

La Vie Rustic



Georgeanne Brennan's new store La Vie Rustic, is now open. 

Think of it as a quasi-secret French village store. The kind that would open only when Madame was in the mood, is stocked with magical treasures sourced from the land the old fashion way, by hand, and is known mostly to the locals and those few tourists that stumble upon it. 


It's the type of place that would sit in the old barn on the ground floor of a 700 year old village house located in an off-the-beaten-path town settled before the Romans dropped in for an extended visit in the hinterlands of Provence. 


Well, it reminds me of a place like that.


The difference of course is La Vie Rustic lives on the internet, so it's open 24 hours a day. 


The difference is much of what she has for sale she made herself, comes from her garden, or is made under her supervision.


The difference is Madame in this case is the fabulous Georgeanne Brennan, so a bit of old Provence magic is included with every order.


The shelves are still being stocked so I strongly recommend you sign up for her newsletter (more like a personal note) that way you'll know when something new arrives... before it sells out.


But in the meantime, peruse. Take your time, nobody is in a hurry here.
Www.LaVieRustic.com

Friday, June 28, 2013

A culinary trip through time from Paris to Provence



I recently had the opportunity to write an article for Gastonomique En Vogue magazine about the memoir slash cookbook Paris to Provence.  I don't do these types of articles very often, but...

Some of Sara Remington's beautiful images which are included in the book. (L-R) Charcuterie Plate on page 118, Boy in car on page 15 and Strawberries in Red Wine on page 66 of the book Paris to Provence.


I've been a fan of Georgeanne Brennan for years and consider myself privileged to be able to call her a friend, and so when she asked if I'd take a look at her daughter's manuscript for a book she'd been working on I said I'd be honored to.  And I was.

When Georgeanne's daughter Ethel sent over the manuscript, which included photographs by co-writer and photographer Sara Remington, I was hooked. In reading the manuscript I was struck time and again at some of the similarities in our experiences as children vacationing in France. Of course having recipes of childhood favorite dishes was a nice bonus! I told them the book was beautiful and gave them a quote to use for publicity that ended up on the back cover.

And when, just after the book was released Gastronomique En Vogue asked if I'd write a review, well, all I could think of was that good works by great people should be supported!

Please do give the article a read and let me know what you think...
http://gevmag.com/2013/06/28/a-memorable-trip-from-paris-to-provence/#respond

bon apetit
Le Capitaine


Friday, March 22, 2013

France & Moi

Did a fun interview in the France & Moi series with the delightful Jaqueline Brown of The French Village Diaries. 
Enjoy!

France & Moi - The French Village Diaries

Very best,
Le Capitaine

Friday, October 26, 2012

A vermouth above all others


A couple years ago, while sitting at the bar of a small restaurant called Rocker Oysterfeller’s in the tiny town of Valley Ford about forty five minutes’ drive north of San Francisco, I drank what at the time was the best Negroni I’d ever had. It had a smokiness, complexity, depth and hint of burnt orange that just took things to a whole other level.

To ensure that it wasn’t a fluke, a few months later I went back to Rocker Oysterfeller’s and ordered another one, and sure enough it was spectacular.

Now a Negroni is just not that complicated – equal parts gin, Campari and sweet vermouth. OK, some people prefer a little more gin and a little less Campari and vermouth, but this is the basic recipe. Wait, I forgot, you need to add your choice of orange slice or strip orange peel. But here’s my point, this means the only real big variables here are the gin and the vermouth, because there’s only one Campari. And what was different here was not the gin.

So, I asked the barmaid, who also happened to be the owner of the restaurant, which by the way is surprisingly good for being in the middle of a beautiful nowhere, what made her Negroni so good. She smiled, as knowing barmaids are wont to do, and said “It’s the vermouth. I use the best there is.” And proceeded to show me a slightly over sized,  kind of fat bottle with an old fashion looking label. Stuff was called “Antica Formula.” I had a 3 second glimpse, and it was gone.

Shortly after that life got in the way. Homes were packed and unpacked. Jobs were changed. Latitudes shifted. You get the idea.

Then, while looking at some bottles of wine at a Whole Foods, what do I see but that slightly over sized,  kind of fat bottle with the old fashion label. Oh yes, this was coming home with me!

Antica Formula is now my house standard. It is, hands down, the best vermouth I've ever had and a spectacular mixer.

Antica Formula’s distributor describes it as follows:
Antica Formula is a red vermouth made from an original recipe by Antonio Benedetto Carpano, the man credited with creating modern vermouth in Turin in 1786. Carpano originally developed vermouth by mixing herbs with a base wine and then sweetening it by adding spirit. His new drink proved so popular that soon his shop had to stay open 24 hours a day to satisfy demand.
Carpano had been inspired by a German aromatised wine and was a fan of German poetry. As a result, he named his new product after the German word for wormwood, wermut, which was frequently used to flavour wine at the time.
Antica Formula is richer and more complex than most red vermouths and will make an excellent Bronx, Manhattan or Negroni.


And there you have it.

Santé,
Le Capitaine




Friday, September 14, 2012

Part 2


And here's Part 2 of the Author Showcase interview.

http://youtu.be/qJ86e4E_bnM

Enjoy!
Le Capitaine

Friday, September 7, 2012

Part 1 - Author Showcase interview

Last week I did an Author Showcase interview with host Jacob Morris. Part 1 was just released. Can you tell we had fun?

http://youtu.be/gXvX7RkbnIQ

Very best,
Le Capitaine

Wednesday, July 18, 2012

Les Voiles de Saint-Tropez

Phoebus II, a 3 tonner built in 1903 sailing in the Voile de Saint-Tropez event.

The Spirit of Yesteryear Comes to Saint-Tropez


Les Voiles de Saint-Tropez, organized by the Société Nautique de Saint-Tropez, aspires to maintain the spirit of yesteryear. Mixing vessels from the past with those from the present is a key feature of their approach. It has proved highly successful, as participants throughout the fleet share a genuine camaraderie and esprit de corps that is rarely found in modern competitive sports. Rolex has been part of this landscape since 2006, supporting the Rolex Trophy: a competition within the Tradition division for classic yachts over 16 metres in length “on deck”.

The 2012 Les Voiles de Saint-Tropez will be held between 29 September and 7 October. It is open to both modern and traditional yachts over 9 metres in length, with a limit of 300 entries. Racing, usually in the form of coastal courses the length of which depends upon the prevailing wind conditions, takes place on the bay of Saint-Tropez. To watch the bay during this event is to see a magical canvas of sails and classic sailboats painted on the blue of the bay.
Mariska, a 15 meter built in 1908 
Modern yachts race over five days, while the classics race over four days. In the middle of the competition, a day is reserved for private challenges, where enthusiastic owners remember the origins of the regatta.

Formerly known as La Nioulargue, Les Voiles de Saint-Tropez was born of a challenge between two passionate sailors. In 1981, Jean Laurain, the owner of the 12-Metre design Ikra, and American Dick Jason, the owner of a Swan 44, Pride, agreed to race between Saint-Tropez and the restaurant Club 55 at Pampelonne, using as a turning mark La Nioulargue, a buoy marking the Nioulargo shallows some five nautical miles east-north-east off Cap Camarat. Ikra beat Pride, and following the enthusiastic embrace of Patrice de Colmont, the restaurant’s owner, the Club 55 Cup and La Nioulargue regatta were born. In 1995, a tragic accident led to a cessation of the event. The regatta returned in 1999 with a new name and revitalized spirit.
The Lady Anne, 15 meter built in 1912

Les Voiles is a popular end to the Mediterranean inshore yacht-racing season. The harbor of Saint-Tropez fills with yachts, carbon-fibre sitting happily alongside varnished wood. The town brims with people, as crews and spectators mix together. The bay is a sea of sails, as synthetic fibres contrast with more natural materials.

The week of competition closes, appropriately, with a prize-giving at the 16th-century Citadelle overlooking the old port.

As Rolex is the sponsor, among the many prizes presented, the winner of the Rolex trophy will be awarded a Rolex timepiece. Nice.

Fair winds,
Le Capitaine


P.S. Here's a fantastic video of the 2010 VOiles de Saint-Tropez. I recommend playing it full screen.


Les Voiles de Saint-Tropez from kaaps || spaako on Vimeo.

Monday, April 30, 2012


Pamplemousse Rosé


(This has come up twice in the last 2 days, so decided I’d drop a note here and share.)

Here’s a simple and very refreshing after lunch summer dessert.

Take a pamplemousse (grapefruit), peel and chop into 1 inch cubes. Freeze or chill. Place 3-5 cubes in class then fill glass with chilled rosé.

Makes for a wonderfully refreshing after lunch treat on a hot day.

I picked this up in Provence at some point but don’t remember exactly where.

Enjoy,
Le Capitaine

Wednesday, February 29, 2012

Cheating at homemade pizzas


I make a lot of pizzas, and often post about them on my facebook page. Recently a friend asked me how I make my dough as she was not satisfied with hers.

My homemade pizza sauce: tomato paste, harissa, garlic, olive oil, and oregano. Hmmm!

And I had to admit that I cheat. Well, sort of. 

In an attempt to stay health I actually do not make pizza dough but instead use an organic "Ezekiel" sprouted grain tortilla. This type of tortilla is high in protein and fiber and much lower in carbs than traditional dough. 

Ezekiel tortilla ingredients: Organic Sprouted Whole Wheat, Filtered Water, Organic Unhulled Sesame Seeds, Organic Sprouted Whole Soybeans, Organic Sprouted Whole Barley, Organic Sprouted Whole Millet, Organic Sprouted Whole Lentils, Organic Sprouted Whole Spelt, Sea Salt. 

Hey, that’s all good stuff!

I toast the tortilla in the oven first until it is a golden color. This makes it stiff. You could skip this step, but I've found the stiffness and accompanying crunchiness to be a better experience. After toasting I layer on my toppings and put it back in the preheated oven at 450 degrees for about 6-8 minutes. The result is all the goodness of pizza without the heavy carbs of traditional pizza dough. 

The Ezekiel tortillas are available at Whole Foods and Trader Joe's.

Two small pizzas ready for the oven!

























By not having to make the dough I save time, which I spend on fresh pesto or on my amazing pizza sauce or on preparing inventive toppings!

Bon appetit!
Le Capitaine

Monday, February 6, 2012

The Tavern’s Vault serves up the Bards of Mystic


The Tavern’s Vault, a magazine of fantasy literature, did a nice review of Traveler’s Tales, the first CD by the Bards of Mystic. 

"You will be left in awe
as this modern show of minstrels
entertains your soul and provides a threshold for a listener to enter, temporarily leaving the stresses of our own realities."
 

- The Tavern's Vault


Do you like to sit back and listen to somebody tell you a good story? Then give this review a read. You might find yourself on the road to a new reality.


Bon voyage,
Le Capitaine

P.S. You can pick up a copy of Traveler's Tales on iTunes or at Amazon.com

Sunday, January 29, 2012

Madame Chou Chou - petits délices gastronomiques éclectiques

The main dinning room. Oui, c'est petit.

Madame Chou Chou is a very special place.

It is, in so many ways, very French. For Americans unused to the way things can be in a small French café, this can be both good and bad.

Le service: I’ve been several times now and Madame was there every time and either served us or checked in on us to make sure things were going well. She is a character, but in the best of ways. She is the heart and soul of this small resto. Now, the flip side is, things do not necessarily move at a rapid pace. Do not come here if you are in a hurry. And the atmosphere is small casual French, so the service from the one waiter I’ve ever seen is,well, casual. Quite pleasant mind you, and the wine he recommended was fantastic while very reasonably priced (the white Entre Deux Mer), but he may forget an order or if you complain show a hint of that French bad boy attitude.So, just be willing to just go with the flow. Think of it as authentic French.

Où s'asseoir (where to sit): Personally I like to sit in the main room. There’s a very cute patio in back, which is where most patrons like to sit, but for me the quieter, more traditional space, though a bit gothic,inside works better. Outside is livelier & noisier, inside; darker and more intimate… that is if it isn’t too crowded.

Le repas: I’ve tried multiple menu items at this point and have not had anything bad. The fish was not to my liking, but it wasn’t bad. It just was a style of preparation that didn’t suit me, but suited my companion quite well. Now the lamb shank, that was good, and one night they had a duck confit special that was astounding. Slightly off the traditional path in that the chef made a confit from a smoked duck, but oh my, did it work well. We practically licked our plates. Everything is reasonably priced, too. If I had a complaint it would be that the menu is a little too limited and the classic French staple of Steak Frite is missing. Please Madame Chou Chou, add a nice steak frite. Please.

Les desserts: OMG. Everything is good, and the fig and goat cheese tart is fantastic – alone worth the trip.

Bottom line: For a mini trip to France, an eclectic off the beaten path France that is, one full of characters, a bit of adventure, and plenty of good tastes, you can’t beat Madame Chou Chou.

Bon apetit!
Le Capitaine

Website: http://www.madamechouchou.com

Tuesday, January 24, 2012

La Cachette Bistro: Great food but a generic upscale environment


I’ve been to La Cachette Bistro a few times now. 

The food is quite good. The chef, J.F. Meteigner definitely knows what he is doing in the kitchen. On one of my visits I had the homemade fromage de tete with a gribiche sause and it was as good as you get in France. In fact, many of his appetizers are exceptional.

The dishes run from California-French to traditional French, and the prices are in the $30 to $50 per person for a multi-course meal, not including wine or cocktails.

I hear the lunch menu is more forgiving on your pocketbook, but have yet to try it.

The service was of quality as well. Unfortunately not a French waiter, but still one who knew his business well enough.

My only complaint, and it is one that many may brush aside, is that while the decor is quite nice, it is generic. It's as if the owners asked the decorators for a generic upscale restaurant. And while that may be fine for many, I would guess that the discerning dinner will be put off by the lack of personality.

I would love to see this excellent chef in a kitchen of a restaurant that looked like it has been serving to the literary greats of Paris for the last 150 years - a place where when you step in you are immediately transported, putting you in the frame of mind for the excellent French meal that follows. Now that would create a memorable experience with a strong desire to return again!

Bottom line: Go for the food.


P.S. Go ahead and valet - resistance is futile. What street parking there is, is limited and fought over.

Sunday, January 22, 2012

Notice


Paullette Faucoup, known to many simply as “Mémé”, a longtime resident of St Tropez, will be buried Monday, January 23rd at 3pm in le Cimetière marin de St. Tropez.

Mme Faucoup moved to St Tropez in the 1930’s after getting married to naval engineer Louis Faucoup. A fixture and friend to all the old-time families of St Tropez, she also came to be known and loved by many around the world who read of her in the St Tropez based novel A Feast at the Beach.

She is survived by a sister, 1 son, 3 daughters,  6 grandchildren, multiple great grandchildren, cousins, and many friends.

~ ~ ~

Paullette Faucoup, que beaucoup appelaient simplement "Mémé", une résident de longue date de St Tropez, sera enterré Lundi, Janvier 23 à 15 heures dans le Cimetière Marin de Saint-Tropez.

Mme Faucoup déménagé à Saint-Tropez dans les années 1930 après avoir épousé ingénieur naval Louis Faucoup. Un montage et un ami detoutes les familles d'autrefois de St Tropez,  elle a également venu pour être connu et aimé par beaucoup à travers le monde qui ont lu d'elle dans le roman acclamé Une Festin à la Plage, qui prend place a St Tropez.

Elle laisse dans le deuil une soeur, 1 fils, 3 filles, 6 petits-enfants, plusieurs petits-petis-enfants, cousins, cousines, et de nombreux amis.

Thursday, January 19, 2012

One of the stars of St Tropez passed away yesterday.



Paullette Foucoup, known to so many simply as Mémé, was a longtime resident, having moved to St Tropez in the 1930’s after getting married to naval engineer Louis Faucoup. 

While she was a fixture and friend to all the old time families of St Tropez, Mémé also came to be known and loved by many around the world who read of her in the St Tropez based novel A Feast at the Beach.

Today, St Tropez is crying at the loss of one of their own. 

Rest in peace Mémé, you are in our hearts forever.

Sunday, November 20, 2011

Un Bon Vin Chaud


I wrote this article for a magazine last year, and seeing as we are in the season again, I thought I'd share it here.  --Le Capitaine



Warm the Soul
Christmas in Beaune. Photo: Tiaré Ferrari.
 By William Widmaier

A few years ago I was walking in the center of the old part of Beaune, France, heart of the Burgundy wine world. It was the middle of December and the cold was getting to me despite my long coat. The strong breeze that snaked through the narrow cobblestone streets drove the cold deep into me, sinking into my bones. As I walked past a café, there in the window was the hand scrawled sign I was hoping to see. I walked in, stepped up to the bar, “un vin chaud s'il vous plait.” Salvation was at hand.


The first time I had vin chaud was at Yosemite. We went camping in those quasi-cabins they have there, where the walls are made of canvas and only enclose 3 sides plus a roof. It was early spring and much colder than we expected. Patches of old dusty snow were still on the ground here and there. I was around 7 years old. We loved going camping and Yosemite, back then, was a favorite, but this day I was cold. And the cold was sinking deeper. “Papa, j’ai froid.” My father turned to my mother, “Colette, et ci tu nous preparé un peu de vin chaud?” She made some on the camp stove, and when I drank my small half-cup the warmth spread throughout my little body, and I was happy.

January in Paris –not a time that inspires love songs about the city of lights. Coming out of the subway it was so cold you had to watch your step to avoid patches of black ice. Paris is like New York in that you routinely walk, un-intimidated by distances that in other cities would demand a car or the calling of a taxi. But today it was cold and after a mile or so I began checking out the café windows, looking for that hand written sign or a plate-du-jour chalkboard with those two magic words. It didn’t take too long. This time I was reminded that not all vin chaud are created equal. “What the heck is this in my cup?” Whoever had prepared the vin chaud thought that corn starch was part of the recipe. No, I don’t think so. The thick sludge I encountered at the bottom of my cup did quick work to kill my joy. But at least I was warm.

Saint Remy de Provence. Home of Nostradamus, Van Gogh, a wonderful Provençal hand thrown pottery store in the heart of the old town, a fantastic candy and chocolate maker, an awesome take-out pizza joint, and a half dozen restaurants to languish in. It was Christmas and we’d been shopping at the farmer’s market, then in the multitude of shops among the small winding streets in the center of town. Sure, we were in Provence, but it still gets cold in the winter. And that cold eventually works its way from the cobblestones, through the soles of your shoes, to your tired feet. That’s when you know its time to call it a day. Then again, maybe it’s the perfect time for a nice vin chaud? We entered one of those great café restaurants. “Avez vous du vin chaud?” This time it was quite good, though with the dry edge of a southern French wine. I wondered, “Did he use a Cote du Rhone, or a Baux de Provence?”  It didn’t matter. Sitting in the café, sipping away, warmth spreading out from my belly, all was right with the world once again. I held up my cup to the bartender, “Merci.”  He gave me a knowing smile “Je vous en prie.”

Los Angeles. A cold night – yes they do have them on occasion in Los Angeles. I’m at the Los Angeles Petanque Club playing against the young and very French sous-chef of L’Hermitage Beverly Hills. It’s not uncommon for club members to bring a little something to share amongst players during the night games. Tonight, my opponent brought a large thermos of vin chaud, and damned if it isn’t the best I’ve ever tasted. “Oh la, c’est bon!” There was that mischievous smile you get from chefs when they know they’ve got something good. Now, most chefs never give away their secrets, but seeing as he was beating me in the game at hand, I had the benefit of using both age and winner’s guilt. After some cajoling he gave up a secret or two.

Here’s my recipe, with a few of those secrets included. It never fails to cheer, especially when shared amongst friends.

Ingredients:
      1  750ml bottle of French red wine, either on the lighter side, such as a Beaujolais Village or pinot noir, or for a dryer edgier feel go with a Cote du Rhone.
      1/8 cup orange liquor, preferably Grand Marnier
      1/8 cup Benedictine
      1 large orange
      1 tablespoon of honey
      1 tablespoon of brown sugar
      6 cloves
      3 teaspoons vanilla extract
      2 cinnamon sticks
      1/8 teaspoon of ground ginger
      3 shakes of aromatic bitters, such as Fee Brothers or Angostura Bitters

Slice the orange into 1/4 inch thick slices, leaving the ends whole. Put slices into a large pot, squeeze all juice out of Orange ends into pot and discard ends. Add vanilla, honey, sugar, cloves and ginger. Muddle a bit to break up orange slices and get everything acquainted.

Add the bottle of wine, cinnamon sticks and the bitters. Turn heat on medium, stirring occasionally. Do not let it come to a boil.

Have a large thermos ready if you plan on transporting, or a big heat-resistant punch bowl or similar container if serving immediately.

Put both the Grand Marnier and Benedictine in the thermos or punch bowl.

As soon as the wine mixture is too hot to touch, but before it boils, transfer it into the thermos or punch bowl, blending it with the Grand Marnier and Benedictine.

It is now ready to serve, and warm the soul.


January 3rd, 1940, vin chaud is being distributed free to French soldiers a few months before the Battle of France, where things go very poorly for La Belle France.




Wednesday, August 31, 2011

Kimberley Lovato: A Feast For Many Reasons

I first met Kimberley when I asked her to sign her award winning cookbook Walnut WIne & Truffle Groves. Since then we have corresponded more than a few times -- kindred spirits in our love of Provence, food, writing and the good life.

Today she wrote and article in her popular blog that is so much more than a review of my book A Feast at the Beach - it is a moving glimpse at her own childhood, grandparents and love of St. Tropez and Provence. I suggest you give it a read. I think you'll enjoy it.

A Feast for Many Reasons

A la votre,
Le Capitaine