Des produits locaux

24 April 2014


Forgot to mention in the last post that Vero and Erik gave us their own homemade pork paté, which they made during the winter and which they are storing in vacuum-sealed jars in the cave under their house. On the way home after our lunch with them, we stopped in to see Gregg and Laurie, and were given an antique London gin bottle filled with a type of 'Eau de vie' (like a very young Calvados) made from the apples and pears that Gregg had collected from our trees last autumn. He'd planned (with our permission) to give them to their pigs, but the porkers saw none of the fruit. Instead, Gregg fermented it for some months, and then paid a fellow who travels around and runs a still from the back of his van in various carparks(!) to distill the concoction. It's not for the faint-hearted: at about 55% proof, it has a kick like a mule, but it has a rather naive appley-dappley aftertaste.

After muttering darkly about not achieving with a capital A, I have to admit that we have been on fire these last few days. We are now the proud owners of a shower head, a kitchen sink, and a handbasin for upstairs. Sounds easy, I know, but we have been operating between three separate locations: the studio where we are staying, the barn, and the 2 industrial estates where the big megastores are situated. So, a lot of driving around, and trying to accommodate the 12-2pm dejeuner shut-down makes for interesting logistics.

As I mentioned in my last post, we spent ages in a plant nursery (GammVert) choosing evergreen shrubs that would form a good, informal hedge around the border of the property. Our idea is to screen the road, which passes below the barn, without compromising the view. Picture G standing with tape measure held aloft as I assessed the height from various vantage points: terrace (sitting), terrace (standing), kitchen window, French doors...and then the whole process repeated with me holding tape measure this time.

In placing the plants on the boundary, we have to take into account the neighbours' advice - so freely and often given ;) - that the roads maintenance department tractor will simply decapitate any plants that are deemed too close to the road. Apparently that's what happened to our doomed lavender plants last year...So we are advised to keep them 2m in from the road edge and 4m in from the edge at the intersection. Seems crazy, but I guess if Madame was prepared to leave her sitting room and hobble painfully on her two canes across the road just to remind us yesterday, then it might be worth taking seriously.

Yesterday, after our customary picnic (baguette, chêvre, mandarins, yaourt) on the terrace under the apple tree, we began to dig and plant as if the hounds of hell themselves were at our heels. The sun was shining, we were in shorts and t-shirts, and it was very hot but satisfying work. We worked all afternoon, until the weather changed and we were blinking through cold rain and our buckets of water (filled at shoulder height from a hose through the shower room window) seemed superfluous.

By then, it was dinner time, and we had neither anything planned or prepared nor the energy to cook, so we took our filthy hobbit feet and weary limbs home and after a welcome shower, found a place to get a pizza á emporter.

Needless to say, when they talk about a 3-cheese pizza here, it's emmental, mozarella and our beloved chêvre. Yuuuhhhm, as Mark would say.