This post coincides with David Scott Allen’s current Cocoa & Lavender post entitled “The Other French Laundry”
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| This is NOT the French Laundry that Hangs in Lourmarin |
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| Photo: David Scott Allen |
It’s a rectangular plot of green grass, about the size of a large pétanque court, enclosed by a tall stone wall on three sides, effectively hiding the clothes lines until you round the corner and peer through the gate. A slightly lower stone wall on the…
fourth side enables a stunning view of the Protestant church, the château, and a rolling green field dotted with olive trees. Cypress trees and the Petit Luberon Mountains rise up in the background.
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| Photo on right: Mark Sammons |
The clothes lines themselves are rather pedestrian. Although perhaps it is their ordinariness, their abject dullness that makes the scene so inspiring. The steel ropes stretch from one heavy iron post to the other. The posts, painted an institutional green, appear to have been deeply embedded in the ground by strong hands that knew sturdiness was the only quality that would ensure their survival in the famous mistral winds.
Anything and everything is hung on these lines. I’ve seen linen tablecloths and I’ve seen tattered underwear. (No lingerie, though, as I suspect that even the French, at least in a small village, are more circumspect about where to hang that laundry.) Some people hang their laundry in a haphazard manner and others hang it with great precision.
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| Photos: David Scott Allen |
Sometimes when I observe the diligence with which laundry can be hung—by category, with a measured space between groupings, or with color coordinated clothes pins—my mind wanders and I think that hanging laundry could be a really healthy outlet for those who suffer from obsessive-compulsive personality tendencies.
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| Top Photos: David Scott Allen |
A lavoir stands at one end of the clothes lines. Defined as a communal basin—actually, there are usual several basins—for washing and rinsing laundry, they are often covered structures and are usually made of stone. They date back to the mid-18th century when a law was passed that funded their construction to ensure clean water and thus good hygiene.
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| Left Photo: David Scott Allen. Right Photos: Pierre Schott |
Women—it’s always women, isn’t it?—took their dirty laundry to le lavoir where they spent hours with other women, washing, rinsing, and hanging their clothes and linens, all the while exchanging thoughts about various and sundry subjects and probably a little gossip. Much like bars, cafes, and the office water cooler, familiarity bred comfort and support.
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| Local woman walks toward the communal clothes lines to hang her laundry |
Because they became such important meeting places for social exchange, the advent of washing machines did not immediately replace le lavoir. Women continued to do their laundry in lavoirs and, according to Pierre Schott, friend and resident of Lourmarin, the older women in France’s small villages still use the lavoirs. (If you’ve ever used a French washing machine, you might consider a lavoir yourself!)
Lourmarin has two lavoirs, one with the clothes lines and another on the other side of the village without the benefit of the clothes lines (or the view). I don’t know if there ever were clothes lines accompanying the other lavoir. Today, both lavoirs are beautifully maintained and are enjoyed primarily as a tribute to Lourmarin’s history, a way of life all but gone by.
The communal clothes lines are definitely used. First come, first served. And, in Lourmarin, on a warm sunny day—of which there are many—you had better get there first. People in Lourmarin may wash their laundry in a machine, but many—mostly older women who aren’t pressured by time—prefer to hang it on the communal lines. And maybe meet their friends.
If I were in Lourmarin today, after hanging my French laundry to dry, I would return to my kitchen to begin dicing my tomatoes, slicing the zucchini, eggplant, and yellow squash, and chopping my herbs for a meal from the other French Laundry. Thomas Keller’s Yountville, California restaurant named the French Laundry, that is. It is widely considered to be the premiere French restaurant in the United States and some restaurant critics and foodie magazines have deemed it America’s best restaurant. Period.
With all those accolades—in addition to three Michelin stars—I suppose it is not surprising that the star of a wildly popular Disney movie—Winner of the 2008 Academy Award for Best Animated Feature—would turn to Chef Keller for his ratatouille recipe.
You can turn to David’s Cocoa and Lavender post to get Thomas Keller’s recipe for ratatouille (and to find out which aspiring chef in which movie consulted Chef Keller for this recipe!).
And what does the other French Laundry have to do with French laundry? Well, that famous restaurant is located in what was once, in the 1920s, a French steam laundry!
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| A view from the chateau of The French Laundry that hangs in Lourmarin. (Click on photo to enlarge to see laundry.) Photo: Mark Sammons |
Lingerie is definitely what comes to MY mind!
This was a really fun co-post! Thanks for the inspiration to make Remy's Ratatouille! You should try it – it is really good and fun to make! On this end, we will do our laundry, which may NOT be so much fun! ~ David
Only in France could laundry be synonymous with food!
Trés amusant, merci! ~ Betsy
ELECTION UPDATE: WITH 33% OF VOTE COUNTED, HOLLANDE AND SARKOZY WILL ADVANCE TO MAY 6 ELECTION. EXTREME RIGHT WING CANDIDATE LE PEN GARNERS SURPRISINGLY HIGH 19.9 % THUS FAR.
Susan,
French Laundry: fun reading! And yes, I have made use of French washing machines many times, both in the public sector (not always
fun!) and in the private sphere: my apts. in France. The latter (2 years now in same apt.) has proved to be a challenge but the landlady is très gentille and helped me to figure it out. So it is now more or less 'user friendly'.
And (also) Yes: Presidential Election en France today. I will be glued to my radio at 17h to hear the results, as well as tomorrow morning at 6h. Will be bien intéressant, no doubt!
Merci bien!
Amitiés,
Henry
Susan,
The French even hang their laundry in colorful tones, great pictures and story. Sad that in US hanging laundry has almost vanished.
Enjoyed the story. Lillian
I really miss hanging my clothes outside. They always smelled so good, better than in a dryer. Janine K.
I just had a conversation with Win Rhoades who, with Claire Flemming, owns our favorite wine and cheese store, South Street and Vine. We interviewed him for a July 14th piece we did about choosing wines and cheeses for a Bastille Day dinner (see July 14, 2011 post or go to http://bit.ly/I6naPf ). He told me that Thomas Keller was not responsible for the name, French Laundry, of his famous restaurant. As I mentioned in the article, the restaurant is located in the building that once housed a French laundry, but another restaurant occupied that space before him that was also called the French Laundry. I had not realized that that first restaurant, famous in its own right, was the first incarnation of the French Laundry.
Win also told me that he has been to the French Laundry–Keller's that is–and that it is EVERYTHING and more than its reputation suggests!
And, Win and Claire ALWAYS hang their laundry to dry!
These lovely pictures of laundry blowing in the breeze with color coordinated clothes pins may look quaint and nostalgic, but for those that were actually there at the time, the memories were not always pleasant. I remember my mother lugging heavy,as she used to say "back breaking" laundry baskets out to the line to be hung up. She was always scanning the sky for signs of rain(no weather reports then) to see if it was safe to hang things. Sometimes the plan had to be scrapped, which meant there were clothes all over the house hang on wooden racks or anything they could find. Our clothes had been washed in a machine that was always a terror to any small child. The machine was said to be "modern", but it had a huge roller on the top. My mother continuously reminded me not to get too close or you could get your arm caught in the wringer and you'd be mangled for life !!
My mother, who was an authority, or so she thought, on all things proper.When the weather was beautiful and the sky as blue as a robins egg and no rain in sight, she'd hang out our clothes, but as she looked around, she couldn't keep herself from saying,in disgust,"Look at Mrs. Whatshernsme, She ALWAYS hangs everything up side down". Who knrw there was a right way and a wrong way to hang clothes? MY Mother did !!
So funny…but so true!
And my feedback would suggest that you are not alone!
I will try it! It's ALWAYS fun and inspirational to work with you!
Maybe I should do a post on French lingerie! That could be fun!
Merci Henry! Those French washing machines do require a lesson! But, they are better–easier to figure out–now!
Lillian,
I received so many emails from people lamenting the rarity of laundry blowing in the breeze! Maybe Kate is hanging laundry in Colombia!
Amitiés,
Susan
Janine,
So many people told me that they miss that fresh smell!
Amitiés,
Susan
Ah, the OTHER side of hanging laundry. I knew it couldn't be as pristine as the lovely color coordinated clothes swaying in the breeze suggests! I LOVE the description of your mother's critique of her neighbor's clothes-hanging techniques!
Thanks so much for your comments!