Celebrating Montmartre’s Grape Harvest

It was that time again to harvest the grapes in Montmartre, which goes all out to celebrate this event. Yesterday was an absolutely gorgeous sunny autumn day for meandering around the narrow labyrinth of streets in hilly Montmartre.

I don’t go for the wine, nor to see the harvest, however picturesque that is, but just to soak up the merriment and festivity like gaiety that reigns like a huge village party.   I must admit that I don’t get up to Montmartre very often, which is too bad, because it literally reeks with old Paris beauty and bohemian ambiance.

Of course it is touristy, but it has been that way for several hundred years.  Long before it was annexed to the city of Paris in 1860, Parisians would come in droves to frolic in the many cabarets, set amongst windmills and vineyards, where cheap wine flowed easily and decadent behavior was the norm.

Sacré Coeur is really a rather recent addition to the landscape, having only been constructed in 1919.   Her pretty white domes  dominate the top of the hill overlooking Paris and is now is synonymous with Montmartre.

The Fête des Vendanges  draws thousands of residents and tourists each day, and yesterday was no exception as the surrounding cobblestone streets were filled to the brim with them, even covering the entire the steps leading up to the church.

I walked past Place de Tertre, where artists were arched over their easels drawing portraits for some of  the many tourists milling around them watching them as they drew.  In the 1800’s,  impressionistic painters loved to set up their ateliers nearby, where at that time rents were as cheap as the wine.

I was on my way to the festival’s  École de Gout, for cooking demonstrations being held in the pretty garden of Paris’s oldest intact church, Saint Pierre de Montmartre. The entrance had the very old copper alembic I had seen in previous years where spicy vin chaud was being sold.

I might have bought a cup, but I remembered that I had come with only one euro in my pocket-book.  Fortunately I rarely buy goodies from the stands, finding them in general too expensive, even though the quality might be decent to good.

As it turned, out, I didn’t need even a cent to enjoy the ample samples of pastries, cheese creations, foods and breads offered to participants salivating over them long before they were passed out.  All I needed was a little patience and persistence to politely hold my place in line, which turned out to be no small deal.

Nothing like free food to bring out in adults the childish pushing and rushing to grab morsels of food like they hadn’t eaten in days!   T’was a tad worse for the wine being freely poured that had been paired for each course prepared.

I enjoyed the passion fruit cheesecake mousse the most, and then several flavoured breads.  The green one was green curry, with the orangey coloured one, a surprising lovely spicy paprika and the charcoal black  one looking like it had been burned to a crisp.

It was flavoured with black pearl curry with yes, you guessed it; active charcoal!  Seems like chefs in Paris are going hog wild over using charcoal to make chips, breads and what nots  these days, the flavour of which I find intriguing!

The hay seen in the photo was used to smoke chicken, that was served on top of grilled polenta with the tiny grey shrimp.

In so far as the wines, I was able to sample a really nice Pinot Noir From Alsace and a sparkling Clairette de Die chosen for the chocolate dessert.  I have never tasted, nor bought a bottle of Clos de Montmartre, the best of which is saved for members of the Commanderie Clos de Montmartre seen walking around in their splendid red and dark blue capes.

I lingered awhile in the pretty garden where tables and chairs had been set out creating a garden party setting that offered a quieter respite from the street crowds.  In the corner was a little vegetable patch with several potimarons, and alongside the opposite walls from the church were several outdoor altars for alfresco masses I am sure were used in the past.

Before I left I tucked again into the dimly lit ancient gothic church of Saint Pierre de Montmartre, where flicking candles lined almost the entire left wall.   They say that the nave of this old church is slightly crooked, though it is hard to detect just by looking.

I have always liked the sweet and peaceful energy there and as the western sun was streaming through several stained glass windows, it made a beautiful kaleidoscope of colours on the statue of Blessed Mother Mary, like radiant jewels in the sun.

Somewhat fortified, I hit the streets again  and ended up being kissed by a red cheeked strolling tastevin in a very festive mood, probably from too much wine.  I stopped briefly to hear a rather spirited band playing near the steps of Sacre Coeur.

Then I caught sight of a crazy courageous street performer, that was thrilling the crowds with his daring moves perched atop a one meter square corner, and then straddling a lamp-post, that had he lost his balance would have resulted in a very nasty tumble down multiple concrete steps!

Before it became one of the most sought out areas to visit in Paris, Montmartre’s fame was initially religious, as it was a stop for pilgrims on their way to the Abbey Saint Denis.  Saint Pierre de Montmartre, was rebuilt in 1133 over an even older church, founded by Saint Denis in the 3rd century.

A renown abbey was constructed around the church and it is famous for being the site where Ignatius de Loyola in 1534 took vows to establish the Society of Jesuits.

Grape vines once covered three fourths of the village surrounding the old abbey of Saint Pierre, where monks and nuns cultivated and made wine. Long before that, vineyards were everywhere around and in gallo Roman Lutece, with the wines of  Montmartre famous and enjoyed by Emporium Julien.

Reputation of the wines dwindled to offering almost nothing except for diuretic properties.   There was an old saying:  C’est du vin de Montmartre.  Oui en boit pinte, pisse quarte.  “Wine of Montmartre, whoever drinks a pint, pisses a quart”.

By 1850, the majority of vines were gone and it wasn’t till 1929, that the city decided to plant a vineyard there, as a souvenir of the “old times”. Obviously not knowing anything about vine growing , they bought a plot with a northern exposure which along with lack of winemaking skills produced awful wines.

In 2006, a professional oenologist was hired to replant the vineyard and to oversee the vitification..  Planted mostly with Gamay Beaujolais and Pinot Noir grapes, the wines are said to have greatly improved!

With the autumn sun fading, and not feeling deprived of tasting the latest vintages of Clos de Montmartre, it was time to descend through the maze of tiny streets towards Pigalle, characteristically still bedecked with her multiple sex shops, and peep shows.

I took a short cut towards Place de Clichy, winding through the top corner of a gentrified 9th arrondissement to catch bus 68 home.

I knew that I had to start my croustade of apple and prunes flavoured with Armagnac, tucked under crunchy golden filo like dough, a very old regional dessert from southwestern France.  This time I added some chopped kumquats for a hint of orange, which I really liked.

Magret of canard(duck breasts) were served rosy with tiny red currents in a port wine sauce along with puree parsnips.  A robust wine like Madiran or Cahors makes for a perfect pairing.

Being on La Butte of Montmartre today really made me want to return  soon without the crowds to rediscover more of Montmartre, both old and new.