Malveaux Estate Wines can only be found in Nikki’s world, another she suggested trying with this recipe is Clos du Bois Shiraz. The Sonoma County Shiraz is a full-flavored wine that pairs well with a wide range of foods. It’s reminiscent of the Australian Shiraz, with rich flavors of berries that include raspberry, blackberry, and a hint of blueberry. On the back palate the wine leaves the impression of spice, fennel, and black pepper.
1 (6.5 oz) package “Alouette Garlic et Herbes”
10- to 12-inch ready-made pizza crust
1 medium sweet onion, thinly sliced
6-12 Nicoise or black olives, pitted and sliced
2 tsp olive oil
1 tsp “Herbes de Provence” (or combine 1 ⁄ 4 tsp each
basil, rosemary, marjoram, savory, and thyme)
1 tbsp grated Parmesan cheese
Preheat oven to 400°. Spread Alouette on pizza crust. Arrange onions and olives on top of cheese. Sprinkle with olive oil, herbs, and Parmesan. Bake for 10-15 minutes. Cut into 8 slices and serve immediately. Serves 4-6.
Chapter 2
Nikki walked through the lobby of the inn on her way to meet Georges at the restaurant. The inn resembled a Mediterranean villa with a central cloistered courtyard that served as a reception area, lounge, café, and wine bar. The rooms were mainly on the second story, all with sweeping views of the estate’s vineyard. There were thirty rooms divided and located among three separate courtyards. The pathways at night were lit by candles on patio stakes, bouncing shadows off the sand-colored walls. To walk through the serene gardens and past the waterfalls throughout the courtyards was nothing less than spectacular.
A pianist played one of Norah Jones’s hits in the golden lobby of the inn. Outside the lobby was a stone pathway that led up the hill to the restaurant. As Nikki entered Georges on the Vineyard, she caught sight of the view through the windows. The restaurant had been built on the hillside to take full advantage of the vistas a few hundred feet from the hotel. Patrons could hike the steep path up to the restaurant or choose to be chauffeured in one of the vineyard’s golf carts. Nikki had chosen the hike, having missed out on her morning run. As she stepped into the foyer, she turned to look out at the view. She sighed. It never ceased to amaze her: the greens, golds, ambers, and shades of red and purple that took hold of the valley and brought it to life like an earth-toned rainbow, never to be duplicated by man’s hand.
The clinging and clanging of pots and pans coming from the kitchen broke her reverie. She entered the kitchen to the scene of a half dozen men and women, their heads topped with chef beanies, working at a frantic pace chopping and dicing, and Georges Debussey yelling at all of them. “No, no, noo!” he hollered at a young woman at the pastry counter, who appeared to be blending cream. “Sacre bleu. You do not beat le crème? Where did you go to school? Are you an imbecile ? I do not remember you. Did I hire you? Who are you?” The young woman looked up at him, her dark eyes brimming with tears. “ No, no, no . Do not cry in my kitchen.” He took the blender from her. “Like this. You do it like this. Oui? ” He rolled his eyes.
“Yes, monsieur,” the young woman said, and as what seemed to be an afterthought, “My name is Bridgette.”
“Ah, well, Bridgette, you must do as I do in my kitchen. Comprends? ”
“Yes, I understand,” she replied.
Georges moved on and stood over a man rinsing dried porcini mushrooms. “Nice. Bon . Good. Those will be perfect in the Daube de Boef aux Cèpes et à l’Orange .” He then turned and caught Nikki’s eye. “ Mon Dieu . Who do we have here?” He spread his arms out as if he’d just seen a long lost friend.
Nikki had learned that this was the way Georges greeted everyone. She’d become his “new best friend” after working with him on the cookbook he’d done in conjunction with Derek. Nikki’s participation in the project had been to
1 (6.5 oz) package “Alouette Garlic et Herbes”
10- to 12-inch ready-made pizza crust
1 medium sweet onion, thinly sliced
6-12 Nicoise or black olives, pitted and sliced
2 tsp olive oil
1 tsp “Herbes de Provence” (or combine 1 ⁄ 4 tsp each
basil, rosemary, marjoram, savory, and thyme)
1 tbsp grated Parmesan cheese
Preheat oven to 400°. Spread Alouette on pizza crust. Arrange onions and olives on top of cheese. Sprinkle with olive oil, herbs, and Parmesan. Bake for 10-15 minutes. Cut into 8 slices and serve immediately. Serves 4-6.
Chapter 2
Nikki walked through the lobby of the inn on her way to meet Georges at the restaurant. The inn resembled a Mediterranean villa with a central cloistered courtyard that served as a reception area, lounge, café, and wine bar. The rooms were mainly on the second story, all with sweeping views of the estate’s vineyard. There were thirty rooms divided and located among three separate courtyards. The pathways at night were lit by candles on patio stakes, bouncing shadows off the sand-colored walls. To walk through the serene gardens and past the waterfalls throughout the courtyards was nothing less than spectacular.
A pianist played one of Norah Jones’s hits in the golden lobby of the inn. Outside the lobby was a stone pathway that led up the hill to the restaurant. As Nikki entered Georges on the Vineyard, she caught sight of the view through the windows. The restaurant had been built on the hillside to take full advantage of the vistas a few hundred feet from the hotel. Patrons could hike the steep path up to the restaurant or choose to be chauffeured in one of the vineyard’s golf carts. Nikki had chosen the hike, having missed out on her morning run. As she stepped into the foyer, she turned to look out at the view. She sighed. It never ceased to amaze her: the greens, golds, ambers, and shades of red and purple that took hold of the valley and brought it to life like an earth-toned rainbow, never to be duplicated by man’s hand.
The clinging and clanging of pots and pans coming from the kitchen broke her reverie. She entered the kitchen to the scene of a half dozen men and women, their heads topped with chef beanies, working at a frantic pace chopping and dicing, and Georges Debussey yelling at all of them. “No, no, noo!” he hollered at a young woman at the pastry counter, who appeared to be blending cream. “Sacre bleu. You do not beat le crème? Where did you go to school? Are you an imbecile ? I do not remember you. Did I hire you? Who are you?” The young woman looked up at him, her dark eyes brimming with tears. “ No, no, no . Do not cry in my kitchen.” He took the blender from her. “Like this. You do it like this. Oui? ” He rolled his eyes.
“Yes, monsieur,” the young woman said, and as what seemed to be an afterthought, “My name is Bridgette.”
“Ah, well, Bridgette, you must do as I do in my kitchen. Comprends? ”
“Yes, I understand,” she replied.
Georges moved on and stood over a man rinsing dried porcini mushrooms. “Nice. Bon . Good. Those will be perfect in the Daube de Boef aux Cèpes et à l’Orange .” He then turned and caught Nikki’s eye. “ Mon Dieu . Who do we have here?” He spread his arms out as if he’d just seen a long lost friend.
Nikki had learned that this was the way Georges greeted everyone. She’d become his “new best friend” after working with him on the cookbook he’d done in conjunction with Derek. Nikki’s participation in the project had been to
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