Pour another glass.

We welcome the mist that hangs over the River Cele, swirling above the water, blanketing the valley in silence, no birds can be heard singing just the gentle sound of the River flowing past.  The mist lets us know that today it is going to be glorious.   As we meander along the winding river towards Cahors, a town in the South-West France, not far from the River Lot, the sun now high in the sky warms our bodies.  In the distance hidden like a jewel between the trees is a castle named Lagrezette.  It is six hundred years old surround by vines and woodland sitting high on the plateau where nothing but nature meets the sky.   We enter under an archway, covered in bright pink blooms and there before us is Castle Lagrezette, as we step out onto the gravel driveway, that wonderful crunch under our feet, a cuckoo welcomes us.  An afternoon of wine tasting has been arranged, a handsome Frenchman opens the large engraved wooden doors, bonjour, my heart skips a beat, is it the french accent, the friendly smile, or just the magic of France!

Inside a magnificent fireplace steeped in history stands proudly off to one side, statues, paintings, old wine bottles, wrought iron and the distinct smell of red wine take our breath away.  We are taken into the cellar and shown the rows of hand made wooden barrels, the walls lined with dusty bottles.  Our French guide explains how the wonderful wine of Lagrezette is made, firstly the grapes must be hand picked, no machines here, then it in lslowly poured into barrels to mature, the barrels are only used for three vintages anything more would taint that wonderful delicate taste.  The barrels are manually rotated over the three years, a labour of love, each barrel caressed by the wine maker, marked with chalk and then left lovingly to wait until it is time to rotate again.  We sip vintage after vintage, each one better than the last, a flurry of purchases are made, Christian our host, presents us with a magnum of red wine as a gift from the Chateau.

Life is but a dream here in France, we settle back in our courtyard open the magnum of red and toast life.

loaves and fishes

A simple pleasure here is fishing, Roger (our next door neighbour) spends many a hour standing on the river bank, fishing rod in hand, nothing fancy just a rod, no reel, and a float.  Throw the line as far out a possible and wait for the float to disappear beneath the water, strike fast and if you are lucky you will have a catch.

Its been a warm day, and we spend the evening sitting on the wall with a glass of rose, watching Roger fish, at first he is not aware of his audience his gaze firmly fixed on the water, we watch quietly as his casts the line, it is not long before he strikes, a gleaming silver fish is pulled from the water, we break into applause, Roger smiles and seems pleased that we are watching him.  It is not long before he signals another catch, and then another.  The sun is slowly disappearing behind the cliff and the light is turning purple.  Roger packs up his rod and brings the bucket up to the road, we are eager to see his catch.  Silver fish splash about in the bucket, maybe 15 or so, we applaud his large catch.  Later that evening sitting in the courtyard sipping a cold glass of wine, Maryse  (Rogers wife) calls out to us, she has a bowl of cleanly gutted fish to share, again we are grateful for our French life.  Ian cooks the fish for petit dejeunier, coated slightly in flour and fried in Normandy butter, the flesh sweet and delicate, but unfortunately very boney!!

Bread is more than a simple pleasure here, it is a religion.  Life revolves around the boulangerie, bread is baked twice a day, only freshly baked bread is to be served, whatever is purchased in the morning cannot be possibly served again in the evening.   The bread is baked without yeast, no bloated stomachs; the center is quite dense, with a very thick crust.  The bread is normally broken open with your hands in a God like act! Children are given thick slices of bread to eat in place of  lollies, no obese children here, food is considered a joyous experience and one that is to be respected.

“Let them eat cake”, Marie Antoinette.

Life could be a dream sweetheart..

Come on a journey with me, we are off to spend a most glorious day in the French countryside.

Rug up it’s a bit chilly today, and it has been raining all night!! The car is warm and dry as we head out into the green lush woodland.  We are heading to a Vide Grenier and a long lunch, the woodland is a blush with wild flowers, on the way home we will stop and pick a few to brighten up the dinner table.  Look deep into the woods, timid deer can be seen peering through the undergrowth, a wild hare darts across the field, and a rabbit hops along the roadside.  A farmer rugged up appears from the forest with his treasures of woodland snails proudly tucked under his arm, his lunch is going to be tres bon.

We have arrived at the Vide Grenier, a bit wet but it doesn’t dampen our spirits there are bargains to be had.  The stallholders are huddled under umbrellas, drinking flasks of coffee perhaps with an added drop of Ricard!  Look can you see that pewter teapot hidden deep inside that cardboard box, only three euros, a must have.  Laughter can be heard; beautiful French accents cry out across the square, pinch yourself you are really here.  Roses have burst into full bloom climbing up every wall and cascading over balconies adding bright colour to the dull day.    Keep a look out we need another mirror, browse through every stall, engage in conversation and barter at every chance.  On the back of a trailer getting rather damp is a beautiful ornate golden mirror made in Italy, only ten euros, if we must, another purchase.  Are you cold yet?  I think its time for a very long lunch.

Lets make our way through the village to a small Auberge named Lou Bourdie owned by Monique.  As we open the front door the warmth of the open log fire welcomes us inside, our damp coats are whisked away as we are shown to our table.  Lou Bourdie is a traditional French restaurant, which we soon discover has featured in the ‘Jamie Oliver Does’ TV series and cookbook.  Photos proudly displayed on the walls showing Jamie and his crew filming, we are extremely lucky as one of the recipes featured in his cookbook is on offer today.

The plat du jour only 25 euros consists of wild mushroom soup, so dark in colour almost charcoal, the aroma so exquisite.  The soup is brought to the table in a large terrine, just help yourself, and don’t forget to use the crusty bread to wipe your bowl clean when finished.  If you want to be really French, pour a little of your wine in the last drop of soup and then drink straight from your bowl.  The French usually do not start drinking wine until after the soup course.   Roast Beef arrives; remember if you order red meat in France, it can basically walk off your plate, courgette gratin and the inevitable delicious sautéed potatoes, a pichet or two of rose completes the main course.  Cheese, yes that wonderful gooey smelly goaty French stuff is followed by pastis gateau, a divine pastry dessert with hundreds of layers of filo pastry coated in rum.  Lets order coffee and sit back by the log fire and relax awhile.  Pleasant conversation with Monique the owner, she is quite a character; you can certainly see why Jamie and his team picked this place to feature in his show.

Time to wind our way back home, but not before stopping on top of the cliff to pick wild flowers, nothing but the sound of birds singing can be heard, woodland spreads out before us as far as the eye can see.  Its been a truly blissful day, every time I look into the mirror now proudly mounted on the wall above the poule I will remember this wonderful day spent somewhere deep within the woodlands of Southwest France. 

Hungry any one?

Since arriving in Cabrerets we have been wined and dined by many of our ‘old friends’ and also new ones. 

Our first meal was in Toulouse with our French friends and six of their guests.  The meal was to be conducted mainly in French, which originally caused us slight panic, but this quickly disappeared along with the many glasses of top quality wines that were offered during the dinner.  Entrée was served in the parlor, French Champagne served from the most beautiful ice bucket with a gold garland, grilled octopus, calamari and prawns slightly coated in a mild Spanish chilli, sliced salami, home made foie gras pate, melon cut into cubes and served with tooth picks.  We then moved to the table for the main course, lamb and prune tagine served with crusty, delicious baguettes that dropped millions of crumbs when broken open with your hands, but it is the French way!  Next the cheese is served, five of the gooiest, smelliest and divine tasting cheeses I have ever laid eyes on.  I watched the other French women to make sure I’m eating my meal, as the French would do, only the slightest sliver of each cheese is selected, the cheese course is always served with crisp lettuce leaves marinated with olive oil and lemon juice. Dessert is brought to the table with great fanfare, gateau’s, chocolate éclairs, vanilla slices, soft choux pastry dusted with icing sugar and a rich dark chocolate cake its enough to send you weak at the knees.  After we have finished a  30-year-old Armagnac is offered along with dark rich espresso coffees.  One of the guest moves to the piano and plays beautiful French music, which in turn encourages the rest of the guest to burst into song, Ian and I sit back and again pinch ourselves that we have been honoured to have shared in such an evening.

Our next meal was shared with new friends Ken and Robyn in the Maison Blanc.  Candles, crystal glasses and delicate serviettes adorned the table.  A casual meal of pig trotters followed by sautéed beef and vegetables, plenty of wine and great conversation made for a wonderful evening. 

This was closely followed by a meal served at Philippe’s house, eight other guests joined us for dinner, a martini for an aperitif, sliced salami with hazelnuts, a more casual table setting adorned this table but the meal certainly was not, poached salmon topped with a poached egg and hollandaise sauce, potatoes finely grated and lightly fried in duck fat. Panna cotta soft and delicate, a sauce of ginger and honey drizzled over the top and served with delicate biscuits decorated with a mint leaf and a slight dusting of icing sugar completed this wonderful meal.

Next stop back to Maison Blanc, this time we were joined by friends of Ken and Robyn, really interesting people who now live half a year in Hong Kong and the other half here in South West France.  Chicken casserole, sautéed potatoes and petit pois, plenty of wine and great conversation made for a very pleasant evening.

Saturday night and its aperitifs at Rogers and Sarah’s house, champagne flows along with the conversation, new acquaintances are made, and further dinner dates are booked……Life here is one long dinner party,  encore.

   

To market to market to buy a ?????

The game is on; a new Vide Grenier (clear out your attic market) has been posted.  The news spreads quickly through the women of South France, the game plan is decided, who can get out of bed the earliest.  By 9am in the morning all down the street you hear car doors slamming,  dutiful husbands warming up the cars, one by one the women emerge from their homes, baskets over their arms, they are ready to go to war.  Sometime the markets can be up to an hour away, but that only adds to the excitement.

The markets bustle with local sellers, selling everything from wonderful antiques to old garage junk, children’s clothes beautifully hand sewn, tiny leather shoes hardly worn, antique bed linen all with hand embroidery creating initials or flowers from a bygone era. Exquisite lace table runners, crochet blankets and damask table serviettes can all be found amongst the stalls.  Tables overflowing with fresh strawberries from the local producers add a bright splash of colour. 

A coffee meeting is normally arranged for a welcome break, and the chance to show proudly your clever purchases.  So far we have managed to buy three mirrors, one for each bedroom, a crystal glass vase, a hand painted jug from Portugal, two white glass pots decorated with a blue design, two antique bed sheets, a wrought iron candle holder, a new cupboard and a sideboard completes our purchases.  But, another Vide Grenier has been announced for Sunday, so we will get to do it all again perhaps this time followed by a long lunch!! 

Spring is everywhere

As we watch Cabrerets is waking from its winters sleep, spring has sprung, every day new growth can be seen on the trees, only a week ago we could see the homes across the river but now they are completely obscured by fresh leaves, the sun filters through scattering tiny dots of light across the water. Our rose bush in the courtyard has overnight produced an abundance of new buds, which will be in full bloom within the week.  Driving through the countryside you see farmers in almost every field, ploughing the soil and planting everything from sunflowers to strawberries. 

Wildflowers dot the roadside, poppies blazing red amongst the long green grass, lilies line every brick wall, wisteria cascading down buildings and over old crumbling rock walls, buttercups with heads turned towards the sun, bluebells hidden deep within the undergrowth, hollyhocks growing tall and strong paint the landscape with colour.

It is a joy to have the time to actually notice the season change.

J'taime

Ok to paint the scene for you, I’m sitting here in our courtyard, glass of cassis blanc and a café noir by my side, nothing but blue skies above me, black birds singing and the sound of the river Cele, Ian is sitting on the wall watching the fish, his favorite pastime, truly could life be any better!

So what has been happening the last few days, we have settled completely into the Cabrerets lifestyle.  We awake gently at around 8am, sunshine streaming in through our window, a morning stroll to the boulangrie starts the day, decisions decisions, baguette, croissant, pain au chocolat, tartlet du noix, escargot or some other delight that Arlette has baked through the night.  Our morning conversations with Arlette are getting better each morning, I believe she enjoys the game of conversing with us.

A long slow breakfast follows, and then somehow the day unfolds without too much thought on our part.  Maybe a trip into Cahors, a visit to a local market, shopping at a brocante or simply nothing at all, the day never seems long enough.  A long lunch is normally called for at around midday, now this can really change the course of your day, one too many glasses of wine will see you having an afternoon nap!  If you have managed to avoid the trap of that extra glass of wine then there is always a chateau or ruin just waiting for you to visit!  A very special part of our day is our conversations with Roger an elderly Frenchman whose house is attached to ours, he speaks no English, but that doesn’t stop him from trying to communicate with us, I believe in another life time he was a mime artist, today he mimed too us, that if we continue to drink so much cassis blanc we would turn as red as our geraniums in our courtyard.

Normally a meeting has been set up for the evening, drinks with new friends down by the river, which can easily turn into an impromptu dinner. Yesterday evening while sitting down by the river a local family called down to us from the river wall with a gift of pate for us to share, the acceptance of the locals towards us has been a truly humbling experience.  A couple of episodes of 24 and a pot of coffee at our French neighbors home, an evening stroll around the village or a good book and an early night takes us to the end of a perfect day.

The rhythm of life here agrees with me, take the time to speak with strangers, smell the roses, try something new, don’t take yourself too seriously and always have a glass of wine in hand.

Time to Remember

7^th May is Remembrance Day in France and a national holiday, like most commemoration days it always seems to rain!! We had been invited to the local service in Cabrerets to pay our respects.  A small group of locals stood huddled under umbrellas outside the Mairie, the church bells rang out across the valley, a reading was made by the local school children and then the Mayor read aloud the names of the young men from Cabrerets that had lost their lives in the war.  After each name was read the small group of gathered locals joined in voice to say ‘mort pour la France’ very moving.  A wreath of flowers was laid in front of the monument and the French National Anthem played.   After a minute silence we were invited into the Mairie for a drink, cassis and white wine, another new drink for my repertoire. 

We are honored to be included by the locals who make every effect to communicate with us, although it is difficult on both sides.  

Yoga de style Francais

After a glass or two of wine we somehow found ourselves in a yoga class in the town hall.

souffle

fermez les yeux

plier à partir de votre taille, la tête touche les genoux et redressez lentement vos jambs

It didn’t take us long to realize that we don’t bend like we used too!!  Our French classmates enjoyed our attempt at trying to understand the instructions given and our inability to breath up from our stomachs, up into our chest and then into the clavicle!!

The world over it seems at least one member of the class manages to fall asleep during the meditation, the gentle sound of snoring always helps me to relax!!  And no it wasn’t either Ian or myself this time. 

We must have been ok as we have been invited back next Monday to do it all again! Encore......

Bonjour

Finally my feet touch French soil, bonjour I am back in the land of my dreams, although, the sky was somewhat grey it didn’t dampen my spirits.  Driving through the crazy Paris traffic my senses on high alert I felt myself shift down a gear, I’m ready for some me time! Rain had started pouring as we entered the motorway, good job I wasn’t at the wheel, what with driving on the ‘wrong side of the road’ speed limits that send a shiver up your spine and pouring rain, it was enough to send you straight to the bar.  As we sped through the French countryside towards Cabrerets patches of blue began to appear in the sky.  As we started to see familiar territory the excitement really started to build, duck egg blue shutters, a chateau or two, rolling green hills, the magnificent Lot river bulging at the seams and then Le Chateau Gontaut-Biron sitting high above the road marking the entrance into Cabrerets, we had arrived.

The day went in a whirlwind, a quick check on the house, a visit to old friends, and a gin and tonic with new ones!! And then a dinner to remember at Michele and Peters home, smoked duck salad, roasted duck confit with potatoes cooked in foie gras fat, crottin de chevre, followed finally by strawberries marinated in rose water with basil and mint, what a combination.  A nightcap followed with a very special Armagnac to warm our hearts before heading home around midnight.  Cabrerets is magical by night, dark and still; it looks as if it has come right out of a fairy tale storybook.  Antique white French linen sheets await my grateful body before drifting off to sleep in paradise.