A whirlwind of the senses
October 30, 2002 | 12:00am
The phone ringing jolted me out of a deep slumber that normally follows a night of merrymaking and celebration at a wedding in Grenoble, an ancient Roman city southeast of France that rests at the foot of the French Alps. My drowsy voice was met by an exuberant one, by my mother, Annie Rocha.
"How would you like to walk up the red carpet at Cannes, eat good food, drink great wine and visit the Baroness Philippine de Rothschild?" She wouldn’t be able to make it herself and was hoping I would go in her place and write about my experience.
Sleep left me. I jumped out of bed and, with great excitement, accepted the offer. I was to meet my aunt Tita Trillo with her entourage in Paris. I would join them the day after their arrival.
Getting to the Bateau was an adventure in itself. Our taxi driver would have felt right at home in Manila. The traffic and discipline in Paris is very similar to Manila’s. The only difference is that in Paris, the roads are better and that Pinoys stuck in traffic are more stoic about it.
The Seine cruise on the Bateau could be the most romantic way to see Paris. We were given the VIP treatment. Our coats were taken and hung and we were seated ahead of other parties, on elegantly set tables on the deck. As the boat left the dock, the sun was beginning to set and the city turned on its awe-inspiring lights. We passed by riverside monuments, under quaint bridges, while we were serenaded by an elegantly dressed woman. The Paris you read about in books or in magazines or see on films began to unfold before our eyes. I realized then that this three-day jaunt was going to involve a seduction of the senses.
A bottle of Mouton Cadet was uncorked. I swirled it in my glass. I smelled its bouquet. I took a sip. My taste buds explored the wine’s subtleties. Music soothed my ears. The cool evening breeze caressed my face as my eyes took in the City of Lights.
We barely had time to check in and freshen up when we were whisked to lunch at the famous La Plage des Palmes located by the beach and behind the theater. We needed passes to get in.
It was drizzling lightly. I could smell the ocean. The salty infusion entered my system and opened my appetite. I was grateful for that because the splendid meal that we were served demanded an appetite.
We were first served Rillettes de Crabe en Feuille de Saumon et Tomates Confites Vinagrette d’ Agrume, or salmon stuffed with crab served cold. This opener was divine, creamy but light – oh so light like a feather falling from heaven. The main course was a Magret de Canard Roti aux Pitchoulines Legere Polenta a la Potagere. A bit heavier, but my tummy was very grateful. The desert was rich, light and mmm… so good, Millfeulle Croquant au Chocolat Pistache. My senses were seduced to total surrender. Forget the calories!
I burned those calories with the excitement I felt when we attended the screening of Les Fils, a film by Luc and Jean-Pierre Dardenne. We congregated at the Hotel Majestic where we were given our tickets. We were dressed to kill for no one walks up the red carpet at the Cannes Film Festival without the proper attire. People with tickets were stopped because their shoes were not appropriate. We had to pass through a series of ticket control checkpoints. I felt as if I were penetrating the inner sanctum of the Pentagon. Finally, we arrived before the foot of the stairs where the red carpet began. An adrenaline rush pumped through my system.
This simple task of walking up a flight of stairs was unlike anything I’ve ever done before. The paparazzi were there in full force. Light bulbs exploded on both sides of the stairs. I prayed I wouldn’t trip. Celebrities were in front of me and behind me. We stopped to pose with the group of Baron Philippe de Rothschild. The flashes blinded me. My smile was frozen. I was a child again, a little princess entering a fairy-tale castle in the sky. I suppose that is what any movie aficionado feels when attending Canes Film Festival.
After ascending a few more steps, we reached the top. We were escorted to our comfortable seats. Projected on the screen were the people walking up the red carpet. I realized that hundreds of people saw us on that screen moments ago. People around us were clad in the highest of fashion. One American gentleman in our group wore a solid gold bow tie from Tiffany’s, New York. All this is a far cry from Hollywood! And now for the movie...
Les Fils is about a carpenter who trains apprentices on his craft. One particular apprentice was just released from a juvenile prison for murdering the carpenter’s son. This awkward situation evolves into a surrogate father-son relationship.
The lighting was unique and the chemistry between the two protagonists is something to see. The plot was very slow in unfolding but necessary for the viewer to get into the characters’ heads. A lot of people didn’t like the film. Some French viewers called the film a navet (turnip), another world for bad film. I liked it for its dignity, simplicity, and quietness.
After the viewing, we were taken to the Baron Philippe de Rothschild terrace, located above the back of the theater and overlooking the ocean. We joined other representatives and guests of Baron Philippe de Rothschild vintners. We started with champagne. then it was time for dinner
Filet de Veau au Coulis de Truffes
Courgette en Fleur et Gallette de Polenta
Macaron aux Fruits rouges
Baron’arques 1999
Chateu d’Armailhac 1995
Mouton Rothschild 1989
Chateu Coutet 1995
Doesn’t it sound more appetizing in French? It was a magnificent feast and the company was mixed, a tantalizing brew of conversation and laughter.
The older members of the group decided to call it a night. I joined Leah Caringal and the other younger members of the Baron Philippe de Rothschild group into the hotel bar. There we debated on the film.
The French love to debate. I was on the pro side and the only one of that bias. But we strayed from that particular film to films in general. Hollywood was skewered for its world monopoly in the film industry. This led us into politics – capitalism etc. and then history. How typically French!
My sense of hearing was sated. My brain was revving with intellectual stimulus. We called it a night at 5 a.m. We needed sleep for the big day ahead of us tomorrow.
Our guide mentioned how Fragonard had one of the top fragrance specialist in the world on their team. This man is paid to smell perfume all day. One has to go to a special school for this and only the few who are gifted enough graduate. I know I wouldn’t be able to do this for a living. By the end of the tour, I was beginning to be woozy because of all the scent.
One of the best restaurants at the Côte d’Azur is the Jacques Chibois restaurant at La Bastide Saint Antoine. The food was to die for. The wines were excellent and the ambiance exquisite. Bougainvilleas splashed the background with the colors of summer – burgundy, red, orange, white and purple.
For starters, I had an asparagus salad dressed with a light vinaigrette. My main course was Lotte, a fish sautéed with morel mushrooms. Heavenly, just what I was craving for, and again, not too heavy. The dessert, on the other hand, was one of the most superb and irreverent concoctions ever. Olive oil ice cream, creamy white with a taste I cannot justifiably describe but tinged with olive oil. The toppings? Black olives and an assortment of red berries! The effect on my sense of taste was, if you’ll pardon my French, orgasmic! The wine was Escudo Rojo, a Bordeaux-type wine from vineyards in Chile owned by Baron Philippe de Rothschild. It was served in a crystal decanter to allow it to breathe. It complemented the entire meal perfectly.
The film that evening was The Pianist, directed by Roman Polanski. It was about a Jewish pianist and his experience in a Warsaw ghetto during the German occupation of Poland. It is an inspiring chronicle of a man’s will to survive. The images were strong, vivid and sincere. The film hits you in the gut and runs over you like a foam rubber steamroller. It affected me so much that I was rendered speechless. I needed a glass of wine to calm my nerves after the viewing. The Pianist won the festival’s most coveted prize, the Palme D’Or.
The Mouton Cadet filled me with warmth as we sat in the Hotel Majestic’s restaurant, La Coisette. I had no appetite after viewing such a scathing masterpiece, so I skipped the starters and went directly to the main course, Magret de Canard al’Orange with Polenta. Jeremy Irons was sitting at the table next to us. Other celebrities graced this restaurant. It was the place to be after viewings.
The museum was very impressive. It houses many artifacts that are affiliated with wines – tapestries, statues, goblets and antiques from all over the world.
The Rothschilds are a family of art lovers. Their Mouton Cadet labels have been designed by noted artists since 1924. The mouton (sheep) symbol permeated the grounds and the chateau. Legend has it that this was because Baron Philippe was an Aries.
We finally met the Baroness. A woman of great elegance and gracious wit, a beauty who reflects inner radiance. You can’t take your eyes off her. She speaks with a certain cadence and inflection that can only come from someone who has treaded the stage and has mastered its disciplines. She is an expert conteuse who charmed everyone around her. She was magnanimous in her hospitality and made everyone around feel like part of the Rothschild family.
I knew we had to leave soon. I knew I had to rest my senses from the adventures that enveloped them throughout the whirlwind of the last three days. I would in a few hours be back in Paris and my Tita Tita would fly back to Manila. All the memories that I carry with me I recount to preserve them as one would a rare and beautiful flower pressed within the pages of a heavy tome of what is to be the story of my life.
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