Moving day in Paris

The places I've stayed in Paris have had either narrow winding staircases


or miniscule elevators


I always wondered what people did if and when they moved. Here is the answer. Suddenly the summer months have sprouted contraptions like these for moving household goods out through the windows.




The apartment where I am currently staying has no access to the street. Now I understand why most of the furniture is IKEA-style, requiring assembly. Fortunately, all I have to move is one carry-on suitcase carrying my clothes, a small back pack with my computer, and a sack full of books. I can be packed and out of here in less than an hour. No window lift required.

Paris in August

Parisians take their vacations very seriously. They also have a LOT of vacation time each year - a minimum of six weeks - and some have even more than that. And they use it! Traditionally, the country almost shuts down during the month of August. The government has tried to encourage people to spread out vacations so that everyone doesn't leave at the same time, but the months of July and August are marked by huge departures. Everyone wants to leave the city.

Shops close. And suddenly storefronts sprout signs announcing dates of closure. Some "critical" businesses - like bakeries - have signs giving alternate addresses where you can buy your baguette. And yes, French people really do buy fresh baguettes EVERY day. Here is the sign on my "favorite" bakery.


Some shops take advantage of this closure for facelifts.






It can be somewhat exasperating to head for your favorite butcher shop just to find it closed for a month. But the good news is that I've discovered a new favorite butcher shop, new favorite fish market, and a passable substitute bakery as each shop rotates closures, often posting alternative suppliers. Everyone will be glad when all of the shops are open again.

Couteaux

I wasn't much help in the oyster beds. Watching the speed and efficiency with which Frédéric was working on the maintenance projects, racing through the narrow window between tides, I tried to lend a hand. But each time I volunteered, it was apparent that it wasn't worth the trouble to teach me when he could do the job ten times faster. So I was free to play.

François showed me how to find couteaux ("knives") hiding underground. A couteau is a bivalve mollusk that looks just like a pearl handled knife - hence the name. I saw some back in April at a market in Paris but didn't know what they were.


The first step is to identify the distinctive shape of the air hole that they leave in the sand - it's rectangular rather than round. Once you find a likely hole, you sprinkle little bit of rock salt into the hole, followed by a few drops of sea water. You are tricking the couteau into thinking that the tide has come back in! Next, the couteau gives a telltale "souffle" or blow - that shows you that indeed, you've found one. Patience is required as first the couteau sends out a tentative, soft "foot". Moments later, the knife shell appears. Then you grab it! But gently! You can feel it struggling to escape underground and if you pull too hard or too quickly, it can break off. Finally, you ease it out of the ground and go off in search of the next one.








And then? Bring them home, allow them to disgorge in water for about an hour (to get rid of the sand). Then heat them in the skillet (in the shell) - briefly - just until they open. Take them out of their shells, cut into small pieces, and saute quickly in olive oil with garlic and parsley. Don't cook them too long or they become rubbery. Serve as an appetizer accompanied by a white Graves. Yummmm! Delicious!!

Oyster babies

Timing is critical for the placement of "collectors". Oysters spawn once the water reaches a certain temperature - usually in July or August. Hence the myth of not eating oysters during months without "R". Oysters about to spawn do become "laiteuse" (milky) when they're full of eggs, but they are still edible.

Once the eggs are released and fertilized they become free-swimming larvae for about two weeks. At the end of those two weeks of freedom, they must find something to attach to in order to grow a shell and survive. This is a critical period for oyster farmers - to recognize when the oysters have spawned and then to place collectors to provide a point of attachment for the oyster larvae.

The most common kind of collectors in the Arcachon basin are ceramic tiles (kind of like roofing tiles) which must be dipped into a chalk+sand+seawater bath and allowed to dry. This is another laborious step as it is done by hand. Here's what the tiles look like after they've been dipped and are ready to go:


They will be placed in the bay in a special bed out of reach of winter storms and will be left there over the winter. In the spring time - if all goes well - the tiles will be covered with baby oysters about the size of a quarter. Then the tiles will be picked up, brought back to port, and the baby oysters scraped off of the tiles by hand. Some producers use machines for this process, but the Dubourg family does things the traditional and time-consuming way resulting in less damage to the delicate oyster babies.

Following this step, the small oysters are then distributed or sometimes placed in bags to protect them during the first year. Even if Frédéric uses sacks for a short time as a protection from predators, he still retrieves and liberates the oysters to spend their second and third years directly on the bottom of the oyster park.

Sometimes, the oysters don't attach and several weeks of work are lost. This happened earlier this summer when Frédéric placed the collectors at a time he thought was right but none of the oysters attached. Was it the temperature? The algae or lack of algae? Every season teaches new lessons. And at the end of the day "la nature reprend ses droits" or "nature always wins". Only one in 100,000 larvae ever reaches adulthood.

Tides

Tides dictate everything in the bay of Aracachon. My trip was timed to coincide with the few days in the month of August when the tides would be high enough (and low enough!) to access the oyster beds where the oysters are grown on the ground. Our outings on the boat each day were timed to leave the port with just enough time to cross the bay, reach the oyster bed, drop anchor, have lunch, and wait for the tide to recede. If you wait too long at the port, the boat is grounded and the shallow channel accessing the port is empty. You've missed an entire day of work. I had no idea what to expect and was completely surprised as we calmly had lunch waiting for the tide to recede leaving the boat high and dry! No way to leave until the tide comes back in again.



Frédéric Dubourg (pictured above with his father Francis) is a 5th generation oyster farmer in the Bay of Arcachon. He is the last to cultivate oysters in the traditional way - directly on the ground - rather than in sacks on iron platforms. This gives the oysters a more natural flavor or "goût du terroir" much like the distinctions acquired by wines whose subtle differences in flavors depend on where they are grown. Another comparison could be made between free range chickens vs. industrial chickens. The oysters are not squashed together in bags and suspended on platforms for the comfort of workers, they must be laboriously spread, turned, sheltered and gathered by hand. Free range oysters are also more at risk for predators including certain kinds of fish, crabs and burrowing snails. But the payoff in this labor of love is a better tasting natural product.

On the boat, leaving the port:


Oysters for lunch while waiting for the tide to go out:


White wine to go with the oysters:


Red wine to go with the pâté, roast chicken, and then the cheese course. Hey this is France!


Tide's out. Time to go to work.



That's François, Frédéric's brother-in-law in the yellow jacket, and Christian, a family friend visiting from Paris in the middle.

As the tide comes back in, it's time to gather up the tools.


Frédéric is spreading out some oysters below. He has 5 different "fields" and just like the farmer who turns his flock into different areas, he rotates the oysters through the different areas, always keeping track of temperatures, predators, and the natural elements in the water. The neighboring oyster farmer is using sacks on platforms. Oysters grown in sacks are out of the water for longer periods of time and don't grow as fast or taste as good.


It's a labor intensive business and subject to all of the laws of nature - storms, predators, and climate change. But the Dubourg family is passionate about the their traditional way of growing oysters and bringing them directly to the public in the tiny Cabane a Huîtres in Paris.

Arcachon oyster beds

I'm back! I am busy sorting photos and writing up some of the many facts and stories that I learned and enjoyed while visiting the Bay of Arcachon with Francis Dubourg, owner of La Cabane a Huitres in Paris. Stay tuned and check back soon :-)

Arcachon

I'm leaving early Tuesday morning to visit Arcachon on the west coast of France near Bordeaux where those delicious oysters are cultivated. I don't know if I'll have internet access there, but stay tuned for more oyster stories when I return this weekend.