Few treats call to mind of our travels in Provence more than nougat. We pine for the Calissons and quince paste we so happily devoured during our soujourn. But it’s the nougat de Montélimar we so often sought out at farmers’ markets or in the local pâtisseries that truly spells France for us. Something about the melange of nuts and honey–not to mention the scents of lavender and the nearby Mediterranean–have us feeling très française. Even if all that finger-licking afterwards is a tad gauche.
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