This November my blog will be 16 years old. To celebrate I am asking you my readers to submit a Guest Post for my blog as a way of celebrating our connectedness as a community through social media.
I hope you will send me your story or at least a glimpse into your life (please send your story and JPEG photos to my email then I will post them to my blog. This will introduce you to one another.
Many of you are feeling shy, or worse not worthy as if there is a prize for the best life lived. I hope, truly hope, you will take a leap of faith in telling me and my readers about yourself, a cherished memory, a recipe, a hobby, what inspires you, what you dream about, and more importantly how are you? What are you living with or through right now?
Your story, as all of our stories, are one, interconnected by the weaver, the river, the dreamer, the wind, the path as we are on moving forward to the light. Please consider sharing a bit of yourself with me.
Thank you in advance for being part of French la Vie / Tongue in Cheek.
Corey has been a guiding light of generosity and joy to me ever since I began reading her blog all those years ago. I have no idea how I found her, but thank goodness that I did.
This is such a wonderful idea to invite us to join in and here’s a snapshot of the journey that brought me to Burgundy, France.
When you have been hard-wired to pass exams, get the top job, succeed in the City of London, work 80 hour weeks, wear high heeled shoes, all at the same time as maintaining an outstanding personal life with a distant objective on the sidelines to bear children, meeting a French winemaker and falling in love at first glance is not included in those parameters.
Nevertheless, it’s what happened to me.
Successfully living my life as a lawyer with a global London law firm, seconded to Hong Kong for a five-year contract, earning mega money and thinking I was very cool, my gut suddenly took me elsewhere, and resulting from a conversation sitting in an alleyway next to stinky dustbins outside the 1997 nightclub in Lan Kwai Fong with a man I had met five hours earlier, I gave notice on my job, my apartment sold my car and arrived lock stock and smoking barrel in Echevronne, France.
My new boyfriend of three days, for that, was how long he was staying in Hong Kong with a mutual friend, and I, didn’t have the benefit of modern means of communication: cell phones, Facebook, Whatsapp, Facetime were the stuff of futuristic imagination. We were limited to landline telephones, hindered by the time difference between France and Hong Kong, and the fact that he worked ( still does ) very long hours in his vineyards nowhere near a phone. We somehow managed to kindle our admiration of one another and eight months after our meeting I had succeeded in extricating myself from several complex litigation cases and the life that I had created for myself, and very much enjoyed!
My arrival in Burgundy was eagerly awaited by the entire village of 250 people, most of whom appeared to have the same surname as my new family. In fact, I rapidly realized that the village was my new family. My future mother-in-law was standing in the street ( there is only one street ) and my future father-in-law, who was a member of the national parliament at the time, was being driven down from Paris at high speed so as not to miss out on a moment of the great event. I adored my sisters-in-law immediately as they are both tall with big feet, and I quickly realized that both love eating and drinking. I was emerging from a culture of daily gym, tennis, and swimming, where ordering a dessert in a restaurant would cause an embarrassed hush. Here were women, who in the French way, were, and still are, slender, chic, and gourmands. At dessert time during our first meal en famille at our nearest Michelin one-star restaurant, I refused to order from the laden trolley. My sisters-in-law, as if rehearsed and absolutely at the same time, cried « But no, you must order a dessert. We will eat it for you ». I knew that my life was going to be fine.
My new family is an old established wine-making clan in Burgundy. My father-in-law was very active in re-establishing the vineyards around our village, which is up in the hills above the famous wine route from Chassagne Montrachet in the south up to Gevrey Chambertin in the north. We now have vineyards spread over about 40 km, producing white and red wines from Chardonnay and Pinot Noir grapes. As well as being an energetic and highly respected member of the winemaking community, he was also the elected member of parliament for the region. Shall we say that he was well known; Now, I had never been a girl who had dreamt of her wedding day. Luckily I was taken in hand by my dear sisters-in-law, who thought of things like dresses, flowers, and decoration. So everything was going to be organized for me. My parents were in England and we were to wed in France, the ceremony to be officiated over by my famous f-in-l, also mayor of the village. They were still reeling from the shock of their highly ambitious daughter « throwing herself away » for the love of a rogue Frenchman and seemed to be content to turn up in time for a ceremony that they were not going to understand.
What I hadn’t realized that in France, particularly rural France, there are two echelons of wedding invitation. There’s the full invitation, which includes the ceremony, of course, the drinks and the sit-down dinner, onion soup at 4 am, and breakfast and lunch the following day. Family, close friends, and so on. But there’s the other sort and that’s what caught me out. This is the ceremony and drinks invitation. And thanks to the position that my future family held in our local world, but also in the national world, and indeed the entire world, well, there were 900 people for drinks. And that’s only because some couldn’t come. And they all bore gifts. And expected to shake hands and claim their kiss from the bride. The line-up took four hours. My cheeks are still sore. I still, 32 years later, meet people in town who stop and tell me how wonderful I looked that day, and I have no idea who they are.
But don’t worry, no inflated egos are allowed here in the Côte d’Or, where reputations (and fortunes) are made thanks to the luck of the draw of your inherited vineyards and not how many years you spent at university. It’s also useful if the wine you make is decent!
I didn’t know this when I fell in love with Jean-Michel, otherwise, I would have done my research more thoroughly. Some Grand Cru wines sell for more than 1000€ per bottle – no error in the zeros there. And that’s direct from the producer. Now, why did I find and love the winemaker without any Grand Cru !! What I am trying to say is that all my diplomas, legal achievements, and smart suits meant absolutely nothing here. French country people don’t ask questions about where you come from, which school did you attend, which university, what does your father do? There is a certain reserve, but also as a foreigner you hold a special position which means you are undefinable. So why bother to find out about you, because you are incomprehensible in any event. Being English, where the criteria listed above, and of course your accent when you speak, immediately define you, this took, some getting used to. It is liberating, but also irritating. Especially if you can’t express yourself as well as you’d like to in your new language. In the beginning, when my every phrase of spoken French required half an hour of rehearsal, many of those that I met made the remark that I seemed very nice, was certainly very pretty, but maybe had a drinking problem as all I could do to pass the time as the conversation reeled about me was to consume Kir after Kir. And don’t be fooled, a Kir is stronger than you think!
My husband’s art using elements of winemaking.
Anyway, 32 years later with three amazing children who are now 28, 26, and almost 21, a house we built ourselves, another one being built also by ourselves, thanks to time freed up during confinement and a bolt hole in Spain, a successful wine estate, and a husband who is never, ever ordinary, I am simply grateful that I listened to my instincts sitting on the pavement next to that dustbin in Lan Kwai Fong.
Questions:
Did you speak French before arriving in France?
My French was at an excellent high school level, meaning I had read Molière and Voltaire but was incapable of holding a conversation.
How was the harvest this year?
The harvest this year was very early indeed due to the beautiful spring weather and dry summer. The berries were very clean and healthy, but small, due to the lack of rain, which means that the crop is of excellent quality but small in quantity.
Can we come visit you and drink some wine?
The Domaine is open for tasting, and that's how we sell more than 50% of our wine. Tasting is by appointment, although we do have people who drop in – it's best to make an appointment to make sure that we are here, and also we can organise our day around the rdv. Purchasing our wine is very easy : either on the spot, or through our US agent, or direct from us and we ship directly to our private clients. We take payment at a distance by bank card.
We are selling a lot of wine by correspondance at the moment as it's so hard for people to travel and collect themselves. During November and December we deliver ourselves to our French clients, free of charge ( certain regions, but almost everywhere ). We have been holding zoom tastings with a number of wine clubs throughout the world, which is great fun. We could look at trying to organize one early next year for the readers of your blog ! that would be fabulous fun.
Contact to lucien-jacob@wanadoo.fr or phone +33 (0)3 80 21 52 15. We all speak English.
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