Eating is revered in this part of the world with a love so deep that the author takes pains to describe each unique meal down to the last drops of fresh pressed olive oil. The book proceeds through each month of that first year they live in Provence, describing the neighbors and other residents they meet, the customs of the locals and how they differ from other parts of France, and most of all, the gastronomic fanfare which highlights each day.

When the cold freezes their pipes, they call upon the plumber, Monsieur Menicucci. The Mistral is the catalyst for a meeting between the Mayles and the first contractor of many they will hire during their first year in Provence. The author and his wife have thought the wind to be merely a rumor, but it proves true. The first surprise the new residents to the area are met with is the cold wind, known as the Mistral, which blows through the Lubyron valley each winter for stretches of two weeks at a time. They, along with their two dogs, move into their new home in time to celebrate the New Year.

They are familiar with the area, having traveled to Provence annually from their previous home in England to spend a few weeks each year vacationing in this sunny land of southern France. Illustrations not seen by PW.Peter Mayle, the author, and his wife purchase a 200-year-old farmhouse in the remote countryside of Provence, France. His adventures, gastronomic and otherwise, are thoroughly entertaining. He opens with an account of a memorable New Year's lunch, ends with an appreciation of an impromptu Christmas dinner, and describes just about every meal eaten during the months in between. The Provencal cuisine is Mayle's leitmotif, however. Even donating blood is an occasion for fun. In nimble prose, Mayle, columnist for GQ, captures the humorous aspects of visits to markets, vineyards and goat races, and hunting for mushrooms. Throwing themselves into the life of this rural region, they master the local customs, gain partial understanding of their neighbors' patois, overcome the frustrations of French bureaucracy, and learn to deal with workmen who operate on the idiosyncratic Provencal sense of time. The author describes his first 12 months in Provence, after he and his wife have abandoned England for an 18th-century farmhouse in the Luberon Mountains.

Author of a year in provence