The daughter and I sandwiched some time in Aix en Provence this summer in between Bologna and Paris. It's one of our very favorite places. It's also the birthplace of Paul Cézanne, a fact that is truly inescapable given the myriad of those round-cornered brass markers imbedded in sidewalks along the Cours Mirabeau and its environs. They tell you that you're following in his footsteps. They'll lead you to places of significance to him - his studio, his birthplace, shops selling cheesy reproductions.
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<br />Well, of a cool-ish Sunday afternoon, we decided to follow them to the house where he was born, as it was in a part of town we hadn't explored yet. Many businesses are wonderfully closed on Sunday, so the streets and sidewalks off the tourist paths were nearly empty, really a beautiful sensation. We followed, we turned corners, we went up a hill, and finally came to a lovely yellow building on which was mounted a plaque announcing that it was indeed his birthplace. Was it open to the public? Mais, non. Now it's a day care center.
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<br />Wandering back along our path, we stopped for lunch at a little place - pizzas and this stopped-us-in-our tracks salad. The very simple ingredients and their avocado vinaigrette took our breath away. I took out my journal and together we deconstructed it. After we returned home, the daughter called me to double-check the ingredients; it was the first thing she made. Fast and simple? Mais, oui. Great flavors and textures? Fantastiques!

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