Editor’s Note: Linda Ahnert wrote this article for LymeLine back in 2008. As summer draws to close, we decided to republish it today to celebrate the anniversary of a very memorable event at which both Linda and I were present. Much has changed since that day—the Inn is no longer an Inn, several of the people mentioned in Linda’s story have sadly passed away (read Linda’s epilogue at the end of the article for more on that), but the game of boules—or pétanque depending on which part of France you come from—goes on and is still enthusiastically played in many locales in Connecticut. If you are not familiar with the game, Linda explains all.

On Sunday, August 24, the 2008 Summer Olympic Games in Beijing ended.

On that same day, another sports competition took place in Old Lyme.  Like the closing ceremonies in China, the event here went on for hours and there was much celebrating.  But unlike the Olympian feats, the local contest had nothing to do with speed or strength.  Or even with athletic prowess.

The opposing teams gathered, courtside, behind the Bee and Thistle Inn, to play a challenge match of boules. (For the correct pronunciation, think of the Yale fight song “Boola, boola”—just drop the “a” and—voilà—you have “bool.”)  This outdoor sport is popular throughout France where it is played in city parks or in village squares.  In the south of France, it is called pétanque (pronounced “pay-TONK.”)  

It is similar to Italian bocce, although bocce is more of a bowling game and pétanque involves more tossing, like horseshoes.  On this late summer afternoon, players from the Bee (l’Abeille in French) were competing against the Boules des dimanches (Sunday boules) team.  

By issuing the challenge, the “Bees” were playing in the big leagues because their opponents were no mere Sunday players.  In fact, the visiting team included some Frenchmen who grew up playing pétanque.  One of them is Jacques Pépin, who lives just down the shoreline in Madison.  The superstar chef and cookbook author is also a pétanque player par excellence.  

Another member on Pépin’s team was food writer Lee White, an Old Lyme resident (and LymeLine contributor.)  She and her husband Doug first played boules at Pépin’s house and became members of the group, which gets together on Sundays throughout the summer.  Lee said there are about 30 players in the league and that “it’s a lot of fun playing and getting to know each other.”   

The team’s roster also includes other gastronomic all-stars.  There’s Priscilla Martel and Charles van Over, formerly of the Restaurant du Village in Chester, and the restaurant’s current owner/chefs,  Cynthia and Michel Keller; Jean Pierre Vuillermet, owner/chef of the Union League Café in New Haven and its general manager, Jean Michel Gammariello; and Claude Martin, former owner/chef of Métro Bis in Simsbury. 

In addition to the professional chefs, Lee White noted that there are other “amazing cooks” who are on the team.  And CBS correspondent Morley Safer, a huge fan of the game and who has a pétanque court at his home in Chester, also plays with the group when he is in Connecticut.   

Lee White explained that last year she and Doug invited Linnea and David Rufo, owners of the Bee and Thistle Inn, to their house for a meal.  Afterwards, Lee suggested a game of boules to her guests.  “They fell in love with it,” Lee said and, within a month, the Rufos had installed a pétanque court at the inn.  And they began hosting “Boules at the Bee” on Thursday nights.

This summer Linnea literally threw down the gauntlet to the veteran players on Pépin’s team.  And she did it with panache—she sent a white leather glove on a satin pillow to Pépin, challenging him to a match at the Bee and Thistle.  

The weather was spectacular the day of the showdown and the players began arriving at 3 p.m.  The setting actually looked more like an English garden party—the green lawns sloping down to the Lieutenant River, the sculpture on the grounds, and the tables set for an al fresco feast.

But once the games began, you could easily have imagined yourself to be in the French countryside.  There was the clacking sound of the boules (which are made of steel), the whoops of exuberance when someone made a particularly good shot, and the good-natured bantering among the players.

The basic rules of the game are deceptively simple. There’s a small wooden ball called a cochonnet (which means piglet.)  The goal for the teams is to toss their boules as close as possible to the cochonnet.  But the game can change on a dime when an opponent knocks one of your boules out of the way or if the cochonnet itself is hit.  

Or, as one of Pépin’s compatriots, Claude Martin, summed it all up, “You see, this is totally screwed up because it’s French.”  

Even if you’ve never been to France, you may have read about pétanque in Peter Mayle’s bestselling books.  An Englishman who moves to Provence, Mayle becomes smitten with the game and quickly masters its unwritten rules.  Number one is “Anyone playing without a drink is disqualified.”  

The traditional pétanque-playing drink in the south of France is pastis, a licorice-flavored liqueur.  But here in southern Connecticut, the beverage of choice is wine. Underneath a canopy on the lawn, large garden urns served as chillers for bottles of wine.  

And what is good wine without good food?—especially with so many gastronomes on the playing field.  Across from that outdoor wine bar, there was an oyster bar where a professional shucked oysters throughout the afternoon.  Not to mention the gravlax, the cheese platter, and the lamb sausage in lettuce wraps … During a break in the play, Pépin himself was grilling the lamb.

Lee White said that whoever is hosting the event on any given Sunday is responsible for providing the food but, with so many chefs on the team, there is plenty of expert help in the kitchen.  She also marveled that the French “eat and drink a lot, but they don’t get fat.”  

After about three hours of playing as well as eating and drinking, Linnea invited everyone to sit down to dinner. And she had prepared quite a spread—roasted pork with a spice rub, grilled vegetables, tomato bread pudding, and salads.  Members of Pépin’s team supplied some of the to-die-for desserts.  

Pépin’s Boules des dimanches team defeated the rookies from the Bee.  Afterwards, Lee White confessed that “we were nervous and were very excited to win.” And when the ceremonial plaque was presented, the ever gallant Pépin requested that the award remain at the Bee and Thistle for a rematch next summer.

But the day was far from over.  As twilight descended, lights illuminated the court and play resumed.  And it would go on for hours, as it always does with pétanque enthusiasts.

Editor’s note:  LymeLine heard through the grapevine that the party at the Bee and Thistle lasted until 1 a.m.  And, as the French say—c’est normal!

Epilogue and Author Comments: 

Seventeen years have passed since I wrote about the “Boules Bash” in Old Lyme.

It was so much fun remembering that day, but there was some bittersweetness, too.  Lee and Doug White as well as David Rufo and Morley Safer have passed away. Two beloved restaurants—the Bee & Thistle Inn and the Restaurant du Village in Chester have closed.  And Peter Mayle, whose best-selling books about life in Provence introduced readers to the wonderful world of boules, died in 2018. 

Since I am a Francophile and also love to cook, it was a thrill to meet Jacques Pépin.  After drinking a few glasses of wine, I even summoned up the courage to start our conversation en français! I was already a fan—over the years I had watched his cooking shows and read his books. 

During the pandemic, Pépin began posting short daily videos on Facebook, which I still follow. 

A few weeks ago, there was a wonderful spread of photos—a group of players on a pétanque court; mouth-watering close-ups of a roast chicken, parslied potatoes . . .  and a picture of Pépin and his daughter Claudine at the table.  Pépin’s comment: “We had a great weekend of friends, food, and boules.”