I'm not sure if it was by coincidence or by design, but last week around Valentine's Day in one of my classes we talked about Provence as "the land of love". From what I've seen so far of Aix, it isn't hard to accept that label. From the frequent, if not daily flower market, to the romantic winding roads, it's a city that lends itself to romance and love. But before this class, I did not realize just how seriously true Provençals take this idea.
Apparently there is a common belief, at least amongst locals and scholars of courtly love (I did not know that such scholars existed before I met my professor), that the modern conception of romantic love began here in Provence, with troubadors who would travel around singing songs in admiration and desire of their women. There were even alleged "courts of love", which by my understanding consisted of a jury of women who would hear a man explain his romantic scenario, and proceed to judge it based on a long list of rules of courtly love. Before such practices, Europe adhered to the Roman school of thought, in which people sang songs of war, and a man who fell in love was considered weak. The troubadors made it not only acceptable for a man to love a woman, but desirable; the love of a good woman was supposed to make a man better.
Naturally, with all of this talk about love and romance, it was easy to feel a bit homesick and miss my boyfriend a little more than usual this week. Luckily, I've found a new love...
Speculoos spread.
Also known as biscoff spread, this magical confection is basically ground up cookies blended to the consistency of peanut butter. It comes from Belgium, but you can find it here in France at places like Petit Casino and Monoprix. It's even better than Nutella, which I didn't think was possible. I'm not ashamed to admit I spent my Valentine's night in bed with a jar of speculoos watching Downton Abbey. Was it the healthiest choice? No, but in the wise words of my friend/life coach Molly, YOFO (you only France once).
In unrelated news, I've decided to start running.
Apparently there is a common belief, at least amongst locals and scholars of courtly love (I did not know that such scholars existed before I met my professor), that the modern conception of romantic love began here in Provence, with troubadors who would travel around singing songs in admiration and desire of their women. There were even alleged "courts of love", which by my understanding consisted of a jury of women who would hear a man explain his romantic scenario, and proceed to judge it based on a long list of rules of courtly love. Before such practices, Europe adhered to the Roman school of thought, in which people sang songs of war, and a man who fell in love was considered weak. The troubadors made it not only acceptable for a man to love a woman, but desirable; the love of a good woman was supposed to make a man better.
Naturally, with all of this talk about love and romance, it was easy to feel a bit homesick and miss my boyfriend a little more than usual this week. Luckily, I've found a new love...
Speculoos spread.
Also known as biscoff spread, this magical confection is basically ground up cookies blended to the consistency of peanut butter. It comes from Belgium, but you can find it here in France at places like Petit Casino and Monoprix. It's even better than Nutella, which I didn't think was possible. I'm not ashamed to admit I spent my Valentine's night in bed with a jar of speculoos watching Downton Abbey. Was it the healthiest choice? No, but in the wise words of my friend/life coach Molly, YOFO (you only France once).
In unrelated news, I've decided to start running.