Check Out This Blog--Even If You Don't Speak French.

    I must, I MUST, I really must start a list of the blogs I regularly visit (a vow that's right up there with I must post more regularly, I must clean my office, I must finish planting bulbs in the garden, and I must quickly track down an on-line supply of bluebell bulbs because I can't find any here in France and I have visions of drifts of wistful blue replacing the wilderness area come spring). 
    The reason I've held off a blog listing is because, as my old history teacher would say about some of my projects, it demonstrably "lacks focus". Cooking, crafts, clothes. travel, design, gardening, my blogosphere loves are all over the map--and I mean that quite literally. Browsing posts on a Malaysian, Thai or Chinese food blog is almost as good as being there. 
     One of the most luscious French blogs I've found is http://pechedegourmand.canalblog.com/ All recipes, all likely to make you drool. No excuses about not speaking French. If food is one of your passions, you can probably translate enough to work out what you'd need to do to recreate each dish.

     The most recent recette was for a baked potato stuffed with smoked salmon and topped with thick cream and a poached egg. (By the way, both these shots are from the blog.)  I love how the author has set the potato on coarse salt, and primped it up with a sprig of dill.
    The post before that reminded me once again of the huge role that luxury ingredients play in the run-up to Christmas. What you see on that salad plate is a mix of foie gras, scallops, girolles (wild mushrooms) and truffles. Yum.

 

Using up leftover duck confit

   Two legs of duck confit left from various recent meals. Four of us for lunch. Some leftover cooked potatoes too. 

    First, I fried the chunks of potato in duck fat, along with two chopped green onions. Then I stripped the duck meat off the bones and chopped it into small pieces. That got added to the pan and heated through. 

    Finally I made a bed of frisée, tossed it with vinaigrette, spooned the warm duck mixture on top, and tossed it all again. Chopped parsley. Chunks of baguette. Red wine...

    I've worked the same trick with leftover roast pork too, warming it and potatoes through in leftover jus

Strawbs and spuds at Albi market

   Before leaving for the trip back, we bought picnic supplies at the little market at the end of the street our hotel stood on. A big chunk of crusty bread, a fresh goat cheese, a slab of pâté, some tomatoes, and a basket of meticulously arranged gariguette strawberries--the first of the season--from this little girl and her maman. 

   I couldn't resist taking a surreptitious shot of this shopper riding off with his big bag of potatoes.

Courgette Season is Underway

We've already eaten one good-sized yellow courgette off our main plant. More are fattening up every day. This round one was bought on Friday at Lavelanet market. 

   I stuffed it with the usual sausage meat/tomato/courgette flesh mixture seasoned with herbes de Provence. While that was simmering away to reduce the liquid, I steamed four potatoes cut into quarters. Tossed with olive oil, lemon juice and lots of fresh rosemary, these went into the oven at the same time as the courgettes. 

  At Friday's market, I'd also picked up a big bunch of "Bright Lights" chard. About ten minutes before the courgette halves and potatoes were due to exit the oven, I brought a pan of water to boiling point. The chopped chard stems went in first; the shredded leaves a few minutes later. 

   Oh yes, it was good eaten in the garden as the temperature cooled, the sky grew dark and the level dropped in the rosé bottle.

A Chicken on the Table

A huge haul at Lavelanet market this morning. Here's a small chicken from the rotisserie man across from the church. As the birds revolve, their fat drips into a trough underneath which is packed with neat slices of potato. We bought both,  put together a quick salad and that, plus some more of the rapidly disappearing kilo of Brie was lunch.

At the market this morning, everyone seemed in a giving mood. When I bought three lettuces, the lady selling them threw in a handful of parsley (which often happens), then said, hmm, but these lettuces are small--and added a couple more. The butcher gave us a deal on the duck confit that we bought for dinner tonight (more friends have arrived from Vancouver). Finally, when Alma purchased a bottle of home-made sparkling apple juice, the grower who had made it looked over the rest of his stock and picked out a particularly nice pear for her. 

Platters for the Barbecue

It's good to know exactly where your meat comes from. This sign stands outside a butcher's shop in a shopping mall in Pamiers. It tells potential customers that the steaks, chops and roasts are all from local animals. Here are their photos and their owners' names--Mr. Fauré and Mr. Soula--to prove it. 

Some of the cuts sold here will be ideal à griller. French people are as nuts about cooking hunks of protein over charcoal as any other culture. It took Peter a while to get the knack of using French charcoal which he now uses along with vine clippings, either bought or from our own vine. 

Tonight, a friend who lives near Beziers is staying with us. Earlier today, we bought a "plateau" of meats: a mix of merguez, Toulouse sausage, pre-impaled pork kebabs and slices of pork belly. Included with the meat was a little sachet of mixed herbs to sprinkle over the meats before they went on the grill. 

Timings were detailed on the label. A little longer for the kebabs, a little less for the pork belly, the sausages somewhere in the middle. While Peter was grilling, I heated up some duck fat, chopped a garlic clove into it and browned some potatoes I'd steamed this afternoon. For a salad, I sliced the last of the heirloom tomatoes. Dark crimson inside, this one was big enough to do the three of us.