The week that was...

We have been gone one week already, today is Good Friday, Ian is out helping Peter hang a new door!!! I am home alone with a pot of tea, french music drifting down the stairs and my thoughts.  We have settled very easily back in to French life, early mornings, long lunches with plenty of wine, an afternoon rest curled up by the fire, a lazy walk along the river and evenings full of laughter.  Wednesday we spent the morning in Cahors, another Vide Grenier (one brass vase only!!!) and a local produce market.  The foods stalls seem somewhat bare after the abundance of summer, potatoes, large white cauliflowers, courgettes, mushrooms and rustic apples are the staple of the winter diet.  Of course in supermarkets you can find everything possible, but the real fresh and in season produce can only been sourced at the local markets.

The variety of food available here is truly mind blowing, as you would expect cheese can take up two or three isles alone, yoghurt another two at least, cured meats another two, every vegetable imaginable can be found either in glass jars or in tins. Wine, plenty of wine, and spirits can all be purchased along with your weekly shop!

We spent two lovely evening, out dining with friends, one was a trip over to St Cirq Lapopie to visit Henk and Nerida, those of you in the know, will already be able to picture the scene and the dinner date requirements, for those of you not in the know, dinner is always served at 6.30 and finishes 9pm sharp, no lounging back on a comfy sofa with a glass of red, discussing the world deep into the night on these dinner dates.  Henk has done a wonderful job at renovating the house above Nerida's art gallery (Nerida is going to be listed as one of the top 100 women artists this century, an amazing achievement). The old fire place is from medieval times and you can certainly imagine a large pig roasting on a spit above the fire and gentry gathered around drinking mead.  Henk has raised the bed of the fire up to help  eliminate smoke and to enable him to cook on the open fire.  A beautiful salad of endives, pears and dates start the meal, followed by tender lamb loins, lentils and green bean and a citrus tart with vanilla ice cream finishes off a most pleasant evening.

Our second venture out was the Roue, and yes Graeme, Fanny was in residence, and remembered Ian!!! now thats a worry.   Our neighbours for one week only, are from America, Mary, Glen and their daughter Claire.  It is so easy here to make new friends, I guess because they are here they are already like minded people.  They run their own businesses back in the States, a second hand book store, and Glen is a Carpenter, he built this own house out of hay and had a roof raising party when all the neighbours brought along  a 'pot luck supper' while lending a helping hand.

When we arrived at the Roue, we are warmly welcomed, by the owner, who immediately lit the fire next to our table which soon becomes a roaring blaze, which means layers of clothes need to be removed.  The hostess apologises by telling us that they normally during the winter do not open for evening meals (only the bar) unless they have a special evening on! Lunch is apparently the go in winter.  The restaurant had been full at lunch time with 56 people, and therefore she didn't really have much food left, we told her that whatever she had available would be fine by us, this is what followed:-

Potato Soup served in a large turin (help yourself style)

Plenty of crusty bread

Puff Pastry Tart filled with cream cheese

Mixed Salad

Confit of duck served with side dish of pasta 

Pear tart, served with meringue and ice cream

as many carafes of red wine that you liked

Coffee

Grappa or Melon Liquor 

all the grand some of Euro 13 per head

what more is there to say....

                                                 

French Shores Once More

 I find myself back in Cabrerets, sitting beside the Poule, which is only required to take the slight chill off the air, glass of red in hand and with a sense of calm I haven’t felt in a long while.

It’s a strange sensation returning to our French house, I am always sad to leave our Aussie home, but excited also at the prospect of six glorious weeks wandering aimlessly through the French countryside, one long lunch after another, one Vide Grenier (bric-a-brac market) after another. 

The countryside looks a little bleak, it certainly has been a long cold winter; the trees are heavy with moss, but not a leaf in sight.  A few trees scattered amongst them have the beginnings of spring blossom, promising that summer will soon be on its way.  The lush green fields are a welcome sight after a very long hot summer back home in Australia, where the ground is parched and dry.    As we wind our way through the small country lanes toward Limogne for our first of what I hope will be many trips to a local produce market, and Vide Grenier, we are struck by the beauty of the bare trees with twisted branches reaching up towards the sky, birds nests in full view, there will be no privacy for them for another month or so! 

The weather is actually very mild, and the locals are certainly out in force to celebrate, cafes are full to the brim, a café noir here a glass of white there.  The sound of conversation and laughter can be heard everywhere, we manage to find a spare table and quickly take up our spot amongst the crowd for a pleasant hour of people watching.  The market brings together a melting pot of people, city dwellers, artists, foodies, bohemians and then of course me.  I love the eclectic mix of fashion on display, young or old alike dress exactly as they please, no tragic followers of fashion here, it is if it feels right then it is right.

A slow meander amongst the stallholders helps to undercover a few hidden treasures, you need to be quick so many people now are on the prowl looking for a bargain, so my advice is don’t hesitate, if you want it then buy it as it will most certainly not be there on your way back up the street.   Today we find we cant live without another coffee cup set complete with milk jug, a beautiful tray decorated in a Moroccan Moorish style in muted blues and greens and a brass stand with bellows, poker, pan and brush, which actually we can’t live without!  Ian had turned quite red in the face yesterday trying to blow air in the fire, so todays lighting was a much easier affair.

Today is Palm Sunday, and is celebrated in style by the French.   Bunches of a green shrub with yellows flowers adorn the pews of churches and locals take home bunches from the market to obviously adorn their own homes.  So Ian was given a mission to forage in our local woodlands to find some for our home.  A beautiful walk soon uncovered plenty and Ian gallantly climb up a tree to retrieve some for me, the sky had clouded over and it wasn’t long before we were caught in a rather heavy shower, we took shelter under the eaves of an old fallen down shed and waited for it to pass.  Although our clothes were slightly damp, our spirit certainly wasn’t.