In Vienne en IsĂšre 4 — “The food train rolls on”, earlier today, the train, having moved from Vienne to Texas, drew into the Neiman Marcus station at Dallas. Now, in Vienne en IsĂšre 5, the train goes from Texas to Colorado and Montana. It is, once again, the La Marjolaine train, now on Benita Bendon Campbell’s tracks. Three comments in e-mail today from Bonnie:
— 1 A little French folk song, â En passant par la Lorraineâ — a veiled reference to Joan of Arcâs life and legends — concludes
… puisque le fils du roi mâaime… Il mâa donnĂ© comme Ă©trenne … un bouquet de marjolaine
…sâil mâĂ©pouse, je serai reine… sâll me quitte, je perds ma peineâŠ
 Rough translation:
‘Since the kingâs son is in love with me, he gave me a Christmas present of a bouquet of marjoram
If he weds me, Iâll be the Queen — if not, lâll have wasted my time.’
So marjolaine may be a metaphor for great love and its risks. Point did create the recipe as a surprise for his beloved wife Mado (we did meet her!). Though it might mean ‘Hope you love this cake. If you donât, so what?’
— 2 Ten years ago, I gave a little lecture to my French Club (le Club SĂ©vignĂ©) about Point and His Restaurant; I know a master pastry chef in Denver who made a Marjolaine for our traditional post-meeting tea party. Everyone was pleased.
La Marjolaine for le Club Sévigné, before being cut into slices
— 3 One evening at Mountain Sky Guest Ranch (in Emigrant MT), where I spent many riding vacations in happier days, Pam, the spectacular pastry chef there, made a Marjolaine for a dessert. I waxed eloquent about its history to my table mates. The dining manager overheard my disquisition, called the entire serving staff to come on over to my table, and asked me to tell them ALL about it. Darling kids. Not many moments Iâd like to relive, but thatâs one.
