today

HOT, HOT, HOT

I did enough errands to kill me, though. I will NOT list them, although I am feeling obscenely virtuous, and am tired, don't necessarily want to either prepare or COOK dinner, but suppose I really should. It is HOT.

If you don't get it done by about 11:30 these days, it's too late. I did manage to buy one of those beach umbrellas to put out on the patio above the table. Since the electric company topped the two trees in our garden, the sun is killing me. The umbrella that came with the place is such a pain we never use it. I thought I was going to have to pay nearly 400 or 500 euros for one of these adjustable gizmos, but found one for 77 euros (july sales in France, folks... and it may be a winner). House still hasn't gotten hot, but hey, I'm being careful. CLOSE the shutters, close the doors, turn on a light and the fan inside, and don't let it get hot. Scream at anybody who forgets (!) to close a door/shutter.

Can't seem to find decent bedding for an acceptable price. Not good.

The jailbirds are, I think, gone for good. The garden up our alley that goes with their house still looks like shit, they still have that big rusted chain and padlock on it, left the plastic hanging on the clothesline so Jeannette couldn't see in to their kitchen, and the "pelouse" (lawn) hasn't been cut in a coon's age. But rumor has it that they are GONE. Were out there this morning moving all these plants. I think the guys helping Fernand (one of the jailbirds, the one who actually did time) were trying to tease me when I left this morning, but I really didn't understand what they were saying.

I keep having to tell people, "Il faut me parlez tres lentement", which means you must speak to me very slowly, and I say it VERY SLOWLY. They usually laugh and repeat what they just said, but just as rapidly....argh. I don't like being hot, but gotta admit, I do love it here...

more later...lillie

previous post

It's a niqab, that full veil with only two holes for your eyes.

So we think we have problems in the US?

I'm sure this has been all over the French papers (and telly) but I saw it in a British paper. This Halal butcher (Halal is the Muslim equivalent of Kosher) in Nantes seems to have a number of wives, and polygamy is of course illegal in France. On top of which he has 15 children and two on the way. AND I read somewhere else that his various wives/mistresses/concubines/whatever have received more than 175,000 euros in public service funding in France over the past three years. On a more personal level, I find it pretty amazing that his wives are allowed to drive...If you've never seen a woman in one of the najib's or whatever they are called, they are long, black, flowing, and cover the woman from head to toe with two holes for her eyes; they usually have something (no idea what it's called) that looks like metal running down their nose on the outside to keep it in place.

From the Times of London:

Muslim butcher's many wives 'no worse than French mistresses'

Charles Bremner, Paris

President Sarkozy’s campaign against full Muslim veils took a comic turn yesterday when an Islamist butcher claimed that his niqab-wearing “wives” were no different from the mistresses that Frenchmen traditionally enjoy.

Lies Hebbadj, 35, was defending himself after the Government made him a national example last weekend by citing his supposed polygamy as the example of the un-French ways that the State wants to combat. He came to attention after a policeman in Nantes, his home city, fined his 31-year-old French-born wife €22 (£19) for driving while dressed in a head-to-toe niqab.

Brice Hortefeux, the rightwing Interior Minister, demanded that the Algerian-born Mr Hebbadj be stripped of his French nationality, acquired in 1999, because he allegedly had three other wives and used them all to defraud the welfare system.

It turned out that he was only legally married to one. “If we are stripped of nationality for having mistresses then there would be a lot of French people stripped of nationality,” Mr Hebbadj joked. “As far as I know, mistresses are not forbidden, neither in France, nor in Islam.”

Mr Hebbadj’s defence after three days of national headlines heightened a sense that Mr Hortefeux’s offensive had backfired and embarrassed Mr Sarkozy in the eyes of all but the hard-rightwing. The media, leftwing opposition and Muslim leaders accused the Government of turning Mr Hebbadj into a bogeyman to whip up anti-Muslim feeling.

Jean-Marc Ayrault, the Mayor of Nantes and its Socialist MP, said that Mr Hebbadj’s situation had long been known to the local authorities. As a radical activist who had visited Pakistan and London, he had been under surveillance by the state security service. Lawyers said that he could not legally lose his French nationality in any event because he had held it for more than ten years.

Mr Hebbadj, who owns a halal butcher’s shop and drives a new Range Rover, has become an unwitting symbol for both sides in the row over Mr Sarkozy’s plans for a law that will bar women from covering their faces anywhere in public.

The measure, announced last week and due to be tabled in Parliament next month, is intended to protect the dignity and equality of women. Some 2,000 women are believed to wear the full niqab in France. More broadly, the planned law is aimed at allaying public fears over the rise of radical Islam among a small fringe of France’s big Muslim population. Two thirds of the French support legal limits on full veils, popularly known in France as the burka, according to polls.

Mr Sarkozy risks having a full ban overturned as unconstitutional, but he has said that he is willing to take that risk. The Government’s whole policy towards Muslim dress and customs was deplored today by Le Monde newspaper. “The burka is a trap. A stupid trap. An unworthy trap,” it said. Mr Hortefeux should be “stripped of his ministerial post”, it added.

Mr Hebbadj and his wife are contesting the police officer’s judgment that her niqab amounted to an impediment to safe driving.

more miscellany

I have complained before that nobody (sob) responds to my posts, but whenever I do this, I get a few emails explaining that they can't post because they don't have gmail accounts, or something like that. So I guess I will continue to post.

several things. Spent most of the day doing chores, boring ones, but worthwhile, like going to the butcher this morning and buying rillettes d'oie (scraps of goose cooked within an inch of its life, until it falls apart, with seasonings, lots of fat, WONDERFUL on crackers or something as an hors d'oeuvre, but unmatched when smeared on a split baguette with mustard, for lunch. Pate sandwich? forget it. This stuff is better. And a couple of other things. ATM for money. Hours (HOURS) spent on the phone trying to pay the ligne fixe (land line) bill (we have to have a land line to have the ADSL internet and VoIP phone...go figure, but evidently we also get TV as part of the deal with LOTS of French, English, American, sports stations, go figure, but we don't yet have a TV). How many years have we been coming here, and I am STILL screwing up the "prelevement", responding to bills (when they show up, that is, and wherever they show up), etc.? Is there no end? I seem to have gotten the land line more or less reinstated; the internet and VoIP phone both work; and my next stop (tomorrow if I can stand it) is to visit the bank and discuss the prelevements with them (this is the automatic payments). M. Arbaudie was another stop, the fuel oil guy, who said a month ago he would bring us some more fuel oil in a day or two. Fortunately he was very apologetic after I opened my mouth and he remembered what he hadn't done. He's Occitan, impossible to understand, charming, and my accent (!) is hard to miss, I suspect. Supposed to arrive tomorrow between 8 and 9 to bring fuel oil. I doubt that he'll forget again.

Too hot.

Felibree this weekend in Montignac (Google it); sort of like a Renaissance festival, but held in some village in Perigord the first weekend in July every year. Everybody wears traditional Occitan costumes; there are Occitan singing contests; traditional Occitan cuisine; town decorated to the hilt. Only just learned about them last year, and am considering a trip up there if the weather isn't awful, e.g., stormy or too hot.

Other chores? am looking for a TV. Gotta get a receipt for the stuff we gave to that charity. Talked to the Mairie about a permit form in case we decide we can afford to extend the diddly-squat balcony off the living area (would be nice...could put a small table and chairs out there then, watch the sunset without benefit of ugly tree or power lines).

Got a haircut (isn't this exciting?!?) stay tuned...

Lillie

Cadouin night market

So we went to the night market at Cadouin tonight. It was the first "official" night market there--there will be one every Monday night from now until I think the first weekend in September. Not all that crowded. By late July, if you don't get there BEFORE it starts at 7:00 p.m., it's hard to find a place. There was evidently one last week for some reason or other, can't remember why. It was rather hot, the band was American Country Western, after a fashion, with a bit of French stuff interspersed, food good as usual, and hey, there were these people with these oysters. Last year there weren't any! Moules frites (steamed mussels and French fries), foie gras, grilled duck breast, salad with grilled goat cheese, "jarret", which is a brined and cooked pork ankle, sausage, beef, lots of stuff. You go around and get whatever you want and eat it out on one of these long paper covered trestle tables in the "place", or under the ancient market. Wine, drinks, pizza, crepes, all sorts of stuff to eat and drink. Lovely. As usual, met some interesting people, English/Greek/whatever/now living in France with two neat kids, one of whom was born in (!) Georgia, that's the Georgia in the USA. Her sister in law (I think) from Lancaster in Lancashire in England, lovely accent.

And some other English, the sort that annoy me no end. In my book (written in the southern USA, specifically rural Texas), if you are with someone who knows someone else at an event, NOT ONLY do you introduce them (Pam and Paul did), but the people you introduce them to at least make an attempt to be friendly. I know, I know, sometimes I manage to inadvertently break etiquette rules in France, but it's out of ignorance; these folks (acquaintances/friends of Pam and Paul's) were what by rural Texas standards would be considered rude, even when I tried to engage them in what Jane Austen might have deemed "polite conversation". Gotta admit, it annoyed me a lot.

The oysters were good. Phil had some sort of duck sausage (I think) and "haricots couenne" which, the first time I saw the term and asked that it be explained to me, sounded like it was going to be those skinny green beans, "haricots verts", cooked with "lardons", which is sort of thick sliced bacon cut into vertical pieces. Wrong. Haricots couenne seems to be basically what we call in Kentucky "soup beans", but made with white kidney beans, kinda like "charro beans", made with some sort of big white dried white beans. Flavorful, but not spicy.

Night market in Cadouin, lovely. Lovely setting, good food, meet people, etc.

Tomorrow I tackle (yet again) the problems I created with the telephone/internet stuff...

cheers, lillie

more problems

So I have evidently screwed up again. I thought I had fixed all the phone and internet problems, but clearly I was wrong. I didn't understand what the Orange/FranceTelecom guy told me in Bergerac the other day, or he didn't understand me, or both, and I HOPE that the girl I discussed it with last week didn't understand me, because she told me EVERYTHING was FINE, no problems, etc., etc. Well we have Internet and the VoIP phone, but today we don't have the "ligne fixe", evidently because what I did (or didn't do) did NOT fix the problem and it has been cut off because the bank didn't pay the bill. By the time I got back to pay it over the phone by credit card (and then to discuss the prelevement, or automatic payment, at the bank tomorrow), it was 4 minutes after 5:00 and the English speaking number shuts down at 5:00. I tried to pay it on the French number (hey, it's bad enough coping with those rapid instructions in English, much less in French), gave up, and for some strange reason, if you're signed up for prelevement, you don't seem to be able to do a one-time payment online. AARGHHHHH.

Looks like the hurricane may miss the oil gush and hit Goliad instead. I guess that's good. Don't think they do right now, but they usually need rain in Goliad. Isn't it awfully early for hurricanes to be plaguing the Gulf Coast?

Speaking of which, its HOT, except unlike the Gulf Coast, it's not humid. It's rather like it was in Israel that time we went to Haifa. Just stay in the shade (impossible, actually) and drink things (I got dehydrated in Israel, and it wasn't fun)

Phil's straw hat (one of the ones he stole from me) needs a new band as he has rather sweated it out. He got a scarf and wrapped it around it instead of a ribbon. I told him it looks fine, but he shouldn't be surprised if he gets obnoxious comments.

So I guess I need to (a) hope the Internet and the "09" phone doesn't get cut off, too, (b) get on the horn tomorrow and try to pay the bill over the ENglish phone number, and (c) get myself to the bank in the morning to discuss the prelevements. It was closed today, of course, as it's Monday. Or it could have been Saturday, or Sunday, or Friday afternoon, or Wednesday morning (not sure about this, but it's always a challenge to find a bank actually open for business).

And I guess I'd better light another fire under M. Arbaudie, who STILL hasn't brought us any more fuel oil, as I need to make sure the boiler actually works and has fuel, or has fuel and works, before we pack it up and go back to the US, as it's only a month away...

AND I'm going to retrace my steps to the electric company, the water company, the Tresorie Lalinde (taxes and unpaid water bills), and anybody else I can think of to make sure all the paperwork I did to get back in their good graces (a) actually worked and (b) is still in place. French bureaucracy at all levels is legendary. I still haven't done anything about the two Notaire issues. Under French law, if I get hit by a truck, succumb to the heat, kill myself over the bureaucracy, or otherwise die (OR if P does the same), under French law, the remaining spouse gets half interest, and the surviving children get the other half. They can kick P out, kick me out, or whatever. One needs to get a Notaire involved to protect the surviving spouse's right to stay in the property. This is not likely to be needed, but you never know...

The other Notaire issue involves the screw-up a couple of years ago over the fund transfers. I won't elaborate, and I doubt that I can fix it, but it's on my list...

There'll be some more photos one of these days...

Cheers, Lillie

crops and a Sunday market

So went to the Sunday market in Issigeac, that incredibly lovely medieval town a bit southwest of here. On the way to Beaumont you pass the Chateau de Bannes, the incredible place that seems to just grow out of this rock hill, complete with turrets and everything. Looks like a setting for a movie, and I think it has been the setting for several. Right by it is this enormous flat field at road level; last year there were sunflowers growing on it, blooming while we were here. The kind they use to make salad oil. This year? No sunflowers: instead, it's wheat growing. I guess I should pay attention to this sort of thing, to figure out how much crop rotation they actually do around here.

The market was of course lovely, brought home something for dinner this evening that I think is duck thighs stuffed with apricots and plums, and in a sauce (already cooked...it smelled great), and some sausage and an andouillette for lunch, also already cooked, which we had with a salad. The guy asked me if I knew what andouillettes are, and I said yes, it's tripe. I've had them; he hasn't. This is why I was getting only one of them. Actually I ate part of it, and it was much, MUCH better than the andouillettes I had that time in Paris, actually quite tasty, and not such a strong smell.

It's hot, and I have the shutters all closed; there's a gig going on down on the field in Couze to raise money for the school, called a kermesse d'ecole. Soccer games, a brocante (flea market), food like crepes for sale, music, etc., etc. I'd go, but it's far too hot.

Cheers

Jeannette and other things

So when Jeannette Dumas next door tells me it's going to be hot, I believe her. And when I notice at 11:00 a.m. that she has closed the shutters, I do the same. It was way up in the 90's today, and while it was a bit dark inside, it is STILL cool. 24 degrees, actually, according to the thermostat on the wall, which is in the mid-70's. The moral here: if Jeannette says "do it", you do it.

The first year or so we froze when it was chilly and roasted when it was hot. Now I pay attention to what she's doing, and I do it, too.

The problem comes at this time of year when it's clear as a bell, we want to eat outside on the terrace, and it's still hot, even at 8:00 p.m. You can get two people in the shade, but otherwise, it gets too warm.

Yesterday at the market I managed to actually buy not one, but TWO, summer dresses. I think they are both linen, loose and very cool, and I'm told I don't look ridiculous. I thought I was going to have to wear leggings with them, but the one I have on today is long enough to go without. WHEE!

Was going to go in to Bergerac to look for a couple of books, buy some more bedding, get the 6th blue cushion (stay tuned), discuss TV with the folks at the internet place, and maybe buy yet another summer dress at Pro Mod or somewhere. By the time I got my act together, though, I had spent more than two hours talking to/listening to Jeannette, and then it was time for lunch and then it was 2:00 p.m. and it was too hot to drive in to Bergerac. Maybe tomorrow, which is also Saturday, and there's a nice market in old Bergerac on saturday mornings. This is also near those other places I want to go.

P is very apologetic about having spilled rather a lot of wine on the book I've been reading. HOWEVER, it's not only a NYC-set murder mystery, and the wine got spilled on the part I've already read.

Had some sort of sole for supper/dinner (it was fresh, it was good but denser than what I think of as "sole", and it did have a funny name, and it had a lot of bones), with those skinny French green beans, mashed potatoes, red wine, cheese, bread. Outside. Too hot to stay very long.

I've decided that it might be time to do some more tourist-y things, rather than just hanging around here, goofing off and eating well. Although there's a lot to be said for goofing off, reading a lot, and eating well.

This new table I bought, the one that's a serious antique "table de chasse" with a drawer that pulls out and is big enough to put a dead boar in, is a few inches taller than a normal dining table. So sitting at the chair and eating off the table is a bit of a problem. I found these cushions that add about 3 inches to the chair height. And I bought these blue ones for a (very) reasonable amount of money, but they only had five, and I need six. So they ordered me another one from their main store, and I was supposed to come get it today. But I didn't; it was too hot. I need to get to bed earlier, get up earlier, and get to Bergerac before it gets too hot. So there...

so there, Lillie

miscellany

So Couze was evidently for many, many years quite prosperous because of the paper mills here. The Couze River, which dumps into the Dordogne here, has been re-routed, "locked", diverted, etc. how many times to put in yet another paper mill (papetier); there were at least a dozen. It's fascinating to look at the houses along the roads up the hill; so many of them are ancient, and in various states of repair, from the tumbling down to the sublime. And down in the valley there are all these paper mills. Evidently the industry was built up here thanks to Pope Clement V, who was from Gascony down near the Garonne River, south east of Bordeaux, sort of south west of Couze. He became Bishop of Bordeaux (thanks to his brother, I think), and was elevated to Pope, although he wasn't a cardinal, as a compromise. We think we live in violent times! Europe in the 13th century was wild. At any rate, this guy chose to be elevated to Pope in Lyon rather than in Rome; he was a toady to Philip IV, the French king. Clement V is the one who ultimately moved the seat of the church to Avignon, and helped the king destroy the Knights Templar (whatever other justifications there were, he wanted their money).

Don't know how the guy who built the chateau on top of the hill fit into all this, but I plan to find out.

So Couze was for many centuries very prosperous. There is still one functioning mill, and you can take tours of it.

On other fronts, USA is still alive in the World Cup; who'd a thunk it! I may actually get a TV.

And the jailbirds across the street from us in the old boulangerie are leaving. Moving somewhere in the Vendee, according to Jeannette. Many are the crocodile tears being shed around here. I have found out who owns the place, and I am going to discuss with her the possibility of purchasing the garden (it's the lawn area halfway up the hill to our place), or at least cutting down that ridiculous spruce tree. It's enormous; it's an eyesore, as it has been topped many times and is sort of all over the place; it blocks the view; and if it were to blow over in a bad storm, it could take some of us with it. And getting rid of the plastic they had up to block Jeannette's view of their front door/kitchen. And cutting the grass.

And yes, they are "jailbirds", who have flown. He was in the prison near Mauzac for theft when they first came here; I guess she moved here to be near him. And she was evidently an accomplice, although either she didn't do time, or she did less than him. And on top of everything else, they are dreadful neighbors.

It's hot; was 35 degrees when I got back this afternoon.

Cheers, Lillie

Monday 21st

It's the summer solstice, I think. At least it's 10:00 p.m. here and the sun just now disappeared behind the hills. And for the first time in a LONG time (maybe the second time since we've been here this summer), today was sunny, actually almost warmed up, etc. Last year, I don't think we ate inside a single time; this year, I think tonight was the first time we've eaten outside. It's still pretty cool, though. If it warms up a bit, I suppose I could take my sweater in for cleaning...

Was supposed to be the Fete de Musique in Couze tonight, with a night market. Two problems, at least: it was too chilly; and it didn't seem to be happening. The good news is that I had actually bought some food, cooked it, and we ate (!) outside.

It's supposed to be nice the rest of the week, highs in the upper 70's or lower 80's, lows in the 50's. In Kentucky it's as hot and muggy as Goliad (Texas, where I grew up, at the edge of the Texas Gulf Coast...this is NOT GOOD). And the regular Night Markets begin soon.

I have dealt with most of the potential disasters caused by my incompetence in keeping up with the bank balance over here, e.g., the phone, the internet (FranceTelecom, Orange), who have decided to re-instate me/us as reasonable and responsible people (and over here they say "Rich Like an American"...go figure), and ALSO the electric company and the water company (who didn't seem able to figure out that "Philip Crowley, 1366 Millersburg Road, USA" was not a very good place to send a bill). I am happy. And now, if I can actually get M. Arbaudie to show up and fill up the fuel oil tank (I'll be happy to pay the bill, and I actually have the money over here...), and get the boiler running again, and then (AND THEN) figure out whether we do in fact have TWO home insurance policies in place over here (and if you're an American reading this, please trust me on this...we really don't need two, but the dollar amounts involved here are a pittance when compared with other costs...this is why it is so far down the list...)

I am grateful that the FranceTelecom and Orance people didn't cut off our service. Neither did either the electric or water folks. They just sort of shoved the problem to the Finance Publique people, or something like that...Unlike the time three years ago (I think) when I thought I had sorted out the "prelevement" issue with the FranceTelecom and Orange people, and I had, shall we say, not had a clue how to deal with it, and we were without internet connectivity forever...

Now I am dealing with shops who have only five blue cushions like I want (at a VERY reasonable price, I might add), and I want six, and I actually seem to be able to deal with it. The sixth one will be here on Friday, if not the day before...Here, Here...

couple of frustrating things

Didn't get up early enough today to get it in gear and go to Issigeac to the market. As it was not only Sunday, but also Fete des Peres (Father's Day) over here as well as in the US, this meant I had to make do with what was on hand, as nothing, NOTHING would be open. It's still June, you see. In July and August, the Intermarche opens on Sunday mornings. Usually. AND, it doesn't close for 2.25 hours mid-day for lunch...

So for lunch, we had a concoction made from yesterday's potatoes (the ones I got from the old lady with the walnut oil...seriously new, and I think about 25% of what I paid her for them was for the dirt I had to wash off...). Sauteed some lardons, an onion in some of the butter left over, and then cut up and sauteed the potatoes in that, and finally put some Emmental cheese (left over from the fish soup we'd had last week) and parsley on it. Called it lunch. It was actually quite good. The potatoes over here are to die for...the English think THEY have great potatoes?!? Right...

So tonight, I stuffed the rest of those little tomatoes with this fromage gervais (after I cut off their tops and scooped out the insides of the tomatoes...these were left over, too, from Friday maybe...) I mixed with the rest of the tapenade verte (green tapenade, made with green olives) and some pepper. It was pretty good, although I didn't actually eat the tomato. Phil did.

The day I bought the tomatoes, I made this entree from this fromage gervais (it's basically a farmer's cheese, firm, not dry...comes in these little plastic pots...) by mixing it with salt, pepper, and lemon juice, stuffing the tomatoes (after I'd scooped out the insides) and put this salmon or cod or some kind of cheap roe ("caviar") on top. This stuff is seriously good. As today, I didn't actually eat the tomato. There's a limit to what I'll risk.

At any rate, we had a salad that had too much sherry vinegar on it (sorry about that!), salt, pepper, some Roquefort (the rest of it, actually...)...why exactly didn't I buy some of those walnuts from that lady yesterday morning?...and walnut oil.

And then I cooked some of the fingerling new potatoes in the plastic bag from the supermarket in some duck fat, sauteed/browned a couple of duck legs (from the can that had produced the duck fat), covered the lot with "persillade", I think it's called...flat leaf parsley and VG fresh juicy garlic chopped up with salt. Not bad, even though it was almost 9:00 p.m. when we finally ate.

So there...

P doing fine, writing a paper or two or three...he has a French lesson tomorrow, and then, after he comes back, I get to go to Bergerac to try to find cushions for the chairs so you can actually eat at this table I bought...and a few other things...so there...

Cheers, Lillie

next Monday

the 21 June, every year, is "Martyr's day" or something like that. On June 21, 1944, Resistance fighters from Lalinde, Pressignac and Mouleydier fought the Germans coming up from the Pyrenees through southern France and over the Dordogne River at Mouleydier. From what I understand, the Resistance were not all that successful: the Nazi's rounded up all the men and boys in Mouleydier, made them march out onto the bridge over the Dordogne there, and shot them all into the river. Then the Nazi's burned essentially the entire town. Lots of people from Lalinde (Couze is in the commune of Lalinde, sorta like a county, but not exactly, sort of a cross between a county and a township...), as well as Pressignac, were involved, too. LOTS of people were killed, and the event, although merely a blip, if that, in accounts of the war/Resistance/whatever in Europe and France, is still alive and well in the memories of the people around here.

Jeannette Dumas, our next-door neighbor, was a kid at the time, a school girl, 9 or 10 or 11 or so; she was born in the house she lives in now, and while she doesn't remember a lot of details, she remembers watching Mouleydier burn...several miles down the river toward Bordeaux...

Cheers, Lillie

table, etc...

So the table and chairs and buffet in the eat-in kitchen when we bought the place were, shall we say, unimpressive. The table was sorta okay; the chairs were okay, unless you didn't have a good back (I don't); and the buffet, Henri II style, was overpowering, underwhelming, and pretentious. I didn't like it; Phil hated it. Turns out it's sort of not an "antique" as it was presented in the stuff we got when we bought the house.

Both of us wanted a French farmhouse table. Unfortunately, I suppose, I found this "table de chasse", which is rather older than the farmhouse table I had envisioned. The problem is, I bought it. Now it sorta dominates the kitchen, and I suspect it will continue to do so...Will I/we be sorry we bought it (actually, sorry "I" bought it)? probably in the long run, no. IN the short run, it's a bit of a problem, but hey...whatever...

Lillie

Thursday, June 17, 2010

So on Thursday, I had a really, really bad day (think: Alexander and the Terrible Horrible, No-Good, Very Bad Day)...which sorta basically involved the nit-wits working on the sewer line up our hill (is it a hill, or is it a mountain? what exactly is the difference? I'm a Texan, and this doesn't count as a hill, but I suspect that if one were Swiss, it wouldn't count as a mountain!). They have sorta taken a LONG time to do this, with the road dug up forever, and these seriously big holes...water cut off at our house, without warning (of course!) for rather long periods...But Thursday may have been the worst. I had gone to the market in Lalinde, and came back about 12:30, came up the road from the church, with the sign "Route Barree" at the side of the road (it's not exactly wide...sorta seriously one-way) rather than in the middle, and up at the top, a couple of hundred yards from our house, maybe a bit more, the road was COMPLETELY blocked, so I ended up backing down a mountain (anybody reading this ever done that? very steep, probably at least 45 degrees, and I have TRI-FOCALS)...it was NOT FUN. and then, after I managed to get down, get on the main road, and go up to the house the other way, when I got to the road just in front of the house, there was this vehicle backing down (A VERY LARGE VEHICLE, SERIOUSLY LARGE TIRES...) and I was backing up behind him, but he clearly didn't see me, in my small Peugeot, and the *** **** who was in this vehicle as well, sitting sideways behind the driver, was talking on, not one, but TWO, mobile phones...neither of these guys had a clue that they could have backed over me...

That was the first bad thing that happened.

THe second was a couple of hours later, and was comparable. All this putting in the sewer, repairing the road afterward, etc., including un-announced water outages, etc., are, shall we say, not much fun.

After these (hey, I haven't given a full account, but you get the drift...) events, I sorta realized later in the afternoon that I wasn't exactly going to make dinner. So I announced that we should eat somewhere else...We'd been to the pizza place down on the main road a couple of times, so we went to Lalinde. At 8:00 p.m., in Lalinde, on Thursday, June 17, 2010, there was basically NO PLACE to eat...go figure...so we went back to Couze (Lalinde is the "big" town in the area) and had pizza and salad at the pizza place, which was good...

but the whole scene was weird...

Lillie

update, after a fashion

So the fridge is here, and now that it's been in place (taking up rather a lot of space, actually) and making rather a lot of noise for awhile, it seems to be working fine, not freezing lettuce or even thawing sorbet cassis, and it's not even making much noise anymore. So maybe it's really a winner.

The next serious issue is the "salle a manger", which I was going to deal with today, except for the problem with waiting for the fridge, and the fact that after I did an errand at the edge of Bergerac, it was sort of almost 6:00 p.m., and I decided I was thirsty and didn't have the energy to pursue it.

But we do evidently have cute little lamps on the new bedside tables upstairs. Chalk up another one for yours truly.

Did my new invention with the smoked salmon and salmon tartare, e.g., salmon tartare with parsley, shallots, chives, lemon, olive oil, salt, pepper and a bit of plain yogurt (didn't have any fromage frais, like I thought I did...), wrapped in smoked salmon, topped with (the rest of the) parsley and chives, as well as a few drops of lemon, drizzle of EVOO, and some sort of red roe.

It was good, but rich. Possibly would be good to try it again as a terrine, where you could slice off a piece, rather than serve an envelope of the stuff. Stay tuned. It was good, though.

miscellany and a promise

So they are proposing to raise the retirement age in France from 60 to 62, and phase it in over an eight year period. The labor unions and a few others are incensed. No comment.

Nobody wants to buy or sell our "salle a manger", e.g., dining room set, and we may end up effectively giving it away. By American standards it's a French antique, early nineteenth century reproduction Henri II, which isn't currently in vogue. Also it's oak, not walnut. I don't like it; the chairs are ghastly uncomfortable at least for me; and Phil absolutely hates it. A bit frou-frou

About what Phil is drinking in the La Pyramide photo is their house aperitif, which was some sort of pomegranate or something flavored alcohol in local bubbly (methode champenoise, not champagne, because it is from the Rhone). It was related to Kir but wasn't at all sweet.

Another note about La Pyramide, we were up near the serving and kitchen end of the dining room, and the snickering we heard was around the corner, and it came, I am virtually certain, from one of the kids who was doing things like setting the tables, pouring more water, etc., and was quickly followed by a "hush". I was just sitting where I could hear around the corner. In facto, the (extensive) wait staff was very professional, and also helpful. Also didn't make fun of my French when I was trying to figure out what in the world kind of fish "Omble Chevalier des Source de l'Archiane" was. Some local lake fish. It was, on a scale of 1 to 10, at least an 11. Fantastic.

The service was generally impeccable, professional, and occasionally, over the top. AND somebody at a nearby table ordered what must have been a very, very grand vin rouge. The sommelier removed the cork, poured out a tad (he did this EVERY time he opened a bottle), looked at it, I assume making certain there were no bits of cork in it, too, tasted it, and dumped that into an ice bucket. AND THEN, he decanted this bottle of wine. NOT ONCE, but TWICE.

Am reading a relatively recent book on the Resistance in France, written by a Brit who I think must be about my age. So far, it's fascinating. And I think he had a very low opinion of Andre Malraux, the writer from Perigord who was, at least according to Dordogne valley lore, a Resistance hero, and who the main character in The Caves of Perigod, Francois Mauriac, is supposed to be. He was Minister of Culture under DeGaulle.

Still need to sort out our scheme for paying the internet bill. It's messed up. I seem to at least feel more confident about dealing with this stuff, less intimidated, and mostly just seriously annoyed.

Also, WHERE IS MY NEW FRIDGE? They are late.

I have a new plan. Found a recipe for a salmon terrine, with the terrine pan lined with smoked salmon, and the filling a jelled thing with sauteed fresh salmon, gelatine, creme or creme fraiche, basil and chives in it. Why not fill it with salmon tartare instead? I might go light on the lemon juice and mustard...I think I'm going to try it if I ever get out of the house...where's my fridge?

Cheers, Lillie

La Pyramide, Sunday, June 6, 2010

So, okay, this makes NO SENSE, I realize. However, if you understand me (is that possible?) or at least know me well, it makes perfect sense. La Pyramide, the restaurant in Vienne, just south of Lyon, down the Rhone, was of course made famous by Fernand Point when? 1935? before that? not sure. But when I became interested in French food in the 1960's and early 1970's, he was sort of the be-all and end-all in La Cuisine Francaise. And when I got a copy of Vincent Price's Treasury of Great Recipes or whatever it's called (thanks to P who talked his mother into giving it to me as a present for graduating from Rice, with my seriously undistinguished degree in French Literature...), one of the first things I tried was from La Pyramide. I still have the book, which is somewhat the worse for wear, but at least it isn't falling apart like some others I have. And it is a book I have read and read and revered and loved for many, many years...

The bottom line here is that I HAVE WANTED TO EAT AT LA PYRAMIDE FOR AT LEAST 40 YEARS, and we did, for lunch, on Sunday, June 6, 2010. M. Point has long since gone on to his reward; his wife ran the place for awhile after he died,

but she is no longer with us, either. Its heyday was in the 1930's, 40's, and 50's, basically.

The weather wasn't

wonderful, but even if it had been, we wouldn't have been able to eat out in the garden and choose a trout, which the chef would catch, kill, clean, prepare, and serve us, like you could evidently do when M. Point was in charge.

So we had Sunday lunch at La Pyramide.

It has been renovated; it has a new chef; a new staff; two Michelin stars; and it is still a serious restaurant. It was expensive, it was pretentious, the service was impeccable (although one of the younger guys was, we think making fun of us, the Americans, and

somebody else told him to hush, but you know what? I don't give a s***), the food was by and large seriously good but not great, except for the fish (which was at least an 11 on a scale of 1 to 10, but more on that later...), we'll never go there again, but I am so glad we went this once. So there...

The photo above is the Omble Chevalier with onion sauce, mushrooms, etc. As I said before it was WONDERFUL. The service was lovely; somebody had what must have been a VERY seriously rare bottle of wine, at least it rated: (a) pour out a bit after it's de-corked, which is de rigeur for all bottles; (b) decanting; and (c) decanting yet again a bit later...into yet another decanter... this is way beyond anything I could appreciate...

I also bought (for a rather inflated price) a book of stuff by and about Fernand Point. His last book, actually.

It was a bit of a pilgrimage, actually. The food was lovely, some great, some not so great, the price was astronomical, right up there with the dinner we paid for on our anniversary in 1982, I think, when we were in Paris, and were going to La Mediterranee, invited Jody to go along with us, and he ordered the lobster (Market Price, of course, WITHOUT asking about the market price). P and I were mostly interested in the bouillabaisse, and P was interested in their chocolate mousse (the kind where they bring out a big enormous bowl, dip you out as much as you want, and then leave the serving bowl on the table...). That meal, given Jody's lobster, set a record for outrageous amount spent for one meal, which was possibly surpassed in Vienne at La Pyramide. After factoring in inflation, exchange rates, etc., this is not clear, and I don't think I really want to know.

So we've been to La Pyramide; glad we did, and we aren't likely to go back...

So there...

Cheers, Lillie

Saturday evening, June 5, Lyon

So after the gluttonous feast Friday evening, and given the prospect of yet another on Sunday, on Saturday night I organized a reservation at Le Sud, one of the brasseries that Paul Bocuse has opened around Lyon. He's in charge, but he's not on-site. It was crowded; it was hot; there was street art; there was a fountain people were plunging into; and it was close to our hotel. I had the menu for the day, but P ordered off the carte (the regular menu). I did better than he did. He had the tapas plate (hey, folks, it was MEDIOCRE, and had packaged doritos...) and the risotto with scallops, which was good but pretty much basically a competent risotto. When I asked about it, I was told it was basically what I do when I make a risotto with scallops. So there (does this mean I'm in the same league as Paul Bocuse? I doubt it...)

I had the menu,

which had as a first course this eggplant

thing with, I think, pesto, and as my main course a grilled dorade served on a bed of veg (undercooked things like carrots, celery, onions, peas, etc., in a bit of broth).

It was good. Red wine, can't remember exactly what; it may have been a pichet of the red. Came with a dessert, so I had the bowl of three boules of sorbet, and ate very little of them. But oh, how I love sorbet cassis and the sorbet de citron (lemon sorbet).

And then we staggered back to the hotel (amazingly enough, with AC), determined to get up early enough to eat breakfast in the dining room (we more or less did, but sequentially...) before we needed to leave to go to Sunday lunch in Vienne, and back to Couze in the afternoon/evening. I had wanted to go up to Roanne, but P had to be back Sunday for two appointments on Monday...

Cheers, Lillie

traboules, I hope

So the traboules are these covered paths/walkways/lanes between buildings, which were built during the Renaissance. The people involved in the silk industry needed to be able to move big bolts of fabric around without having bad things happen to it in bad weather. So they have all these covered paths, which all have (lockable) doors to the street that go between buildings. They are pretty incredible. The corridors they create are tall enough to accommodate bolts of fabric as long as 12 feet.

And the Renaissance buildings in Vieux Lyon

are also pretty incredible...

Cheers, Lillie

Saturday afternoon, Lyon, June 5, 2010

So somebody please tell me why exactly you need an Archbishop to marry you? I took the photo on the left during the actual ceremony. The bride and groom are obvious; the Archbishop is the guy with the red cap on in the right of the photo. We watched the comings and goings en route to a wedding in the cathedral in Vieux Lyon while we were eating lunch. There were several things weird about it. Not just that the Archbishop did the honors...We were able to go in and watch things, (P was surprised, but I wasn't, actually). There were a lot of people dressed to kill, most of the women wearing alarming headpieces (aka "hats", I suppose) streaming into the place starting about 2:30. It clearly began at 3:00. There was a car for the happy (lucky? unlucky? whatever...) couple just outside the cathedral.

The local Archbishop was the guy doing the honors; the cantor was quite good. What astonished both of us was that people, dressed to kill, clearly coming to the wedding, invitations, etc., kept coming in during the ceremony. Would any of us dare arrive at a wedding half an hour late? When we left, it was after 3:30, and people were STILL arriving for the wedding. It was not just weird; it was so far outside my frame of reference that I am still trying to get a handle on it.

And then we went exploring in Vieux Lyon, where there were, during the 15th century, I think, 30,000 silk and Jacquard silk looms. This in a very small area. A couple of streets have been restored to look the way they did in the 16th century, and you can go through some of the traboules, which are very tall covered paths through and between buildings that were used to transport the big bolts of fabric during bad weather. They were also extremely useful for the Resistance during the Occupation by the Germans in WWII.

I seem to be having trouble here; will do something about the Renaissance buildings in my next post...

Lyon, Friday evening, June 4

So we arrived in Lyon on Friday, June 4, actually found the hotel, which, my worries notwithstanding, turned out not to be nearly as difficult or traumatic as finding the place in St. Etienne. Had reservations at La Remanence for dinner, a new-ish place that got barely a mention in the 2009 Guide Rouge (Michelin), but got rave reviews in the 2010 Gault-Millau guide, which I bought this year instead of the 2010 Guide Rouge. It's in a remodeled refectory in a Jesuit school; the building doesn't actually look very interesting, but it's lovely inside. We decided to do the "tasting menu" rather than order off the menu, and it was a pretty incredible experience. Cost a bloody fortune (but more was yet to come!), and the portions were rather larger than we expected. The only other time we had done this tasting menu gig in France was at Hiramatsu on the Ile St. Louis in 2002, and it had been a fantastic experience. We had a bottle of one of their less expensive reds that was lovely, the sommelier was a woman (something I've NEVER seen before), she was not only competent, but clearly in charge and on top of things. It was a lovely evening, a wonderful meal, and we came away saying that it was quite possibly the best meal overall we'd ever had, albeit we had a bit too much food...I'll upload a few photos, but the stars were (IMHO) the Monkfish with chorizo lardons, peas, and various other things, the sweetbreads with strange asparagus (far and away the best sweetbreads either of us had ever had...why exactly can't I make them so they are that good?), this amazing thing with mangos for the first dessert...I haven't even mentioned the foie gras in the middle...it was great, too, but it always is...it was a wonderful meal.

and then we rolled back to the hotel and into bed, and I didn't want to get up, and we didn't until it was past time to get breakfast, but they brought it up to the room...

p.s. the Mango thing was incredible, too, sort of a sheet of mango turned into a packet filled with cubed mango, some sort of unbelievable sauce, and a small blob of passion fruit sorbet on top.

Cheers, Lillie

news from kentucky, and possible rants

So evidently Wallace Station out Old Frankfort Pike, owned of course by Chris and Ouita Michel and run by her sister (it's our favorite place to drive out to for lunch) is being featured in Diners, Drive-Ins and Dives on the Food Channel. June 28 if you get it and are interested...now they need to put that Muffaletta grilled thing back on the menu. I suspect I didn't spell "muffaletta" correctly.

On other fronts, I've decided that the French phone and internet operation is as bad as English banks. And that's saying a LOT. I of course messed up big time (ran out of money in the Credit Agricole checking account, TOTALLY my own fault), but it's become a major, major headache clearing up the fallout. The latest is that I evidently can't put the internet service back on "prelevement", which means direct debit by sending these forms in; and I am evidently going to have to discuss it with somebody on the phone (ugh!) and/or find the password for our account online (ugh again) and do it myself online (je ne pense pas...) or go back to the FranceTelecom office/shop in Bergerac, stand in line for half an hour or so, and get SOMEBODY ELSE to get into my account and fix it.

Argh...a guy is coming to the house tomorrow morning to look at the dining set we want to sell (I have come up with plan B and plan B2 if he doesn't want it, or wants to give us a pittance, but I haven't exactly shared my scheme with P yet). We have to meet him at the church in Couze at 10:00; this is standard practice around here. If it's difficult to give somebody directions to a place in one of these rural French villages, you meet them at the church. It will be in all cases crystal clear what this means. And they are coming Wednesday afternoon to bring me my new fridge. And Robyn is coming over Thursday afternoon to discuss what to do in the kitchen. So there. It would be nice if the dining room set were gone and the new table and chairs were here by then, but that is sorta unlikely, although the guy who's selling me/us the table and chairs seemed eager to get them out of his barn, which I admit is a bit crowded.

Weather has been ratty. Chilly and rainy, off and on (there's a lot of weather here from the Atlantic). It's been like Ireland lately. Can't get clothes dried; my joints ache; and the only warm thing I have here is a pair of black knit slacks and my favorite black sweater, which has acquired an alarming hole.

HOWEVER, the food is good, life is good, the wine is good as well as cheap, the exchange rate is much less painful than it was a couple of years ago, I bought Martin a present today, and the sun is out. Vive la France, et Bon Appetit!

miscellany and a promise

So I PROMISE to write about our weekend in Lyon in the next couple of days...

Went to Issigeac to the market this a.m. Phil declined to accompany me, as he was working on some paper or other. I came home with rather a lot of food, including two dozen oysters. Like I said to the guy I bought them from, they taste(d) like the sea! And I was seriously flattered by him, because when I came up to his stall, he started talking to me in (very rapid) Occitan French or whatever it is, which means either he was being very polite, OR he didn't realize off the bat that I'm not French, OR of course that he didn't pay enough attention to me to notice...

At any rate, Lord, those oysters were great, both the sample he gave me and the ones we had for supper....

Also went to a couple of Vide Grenier's, which are sort of a cross between an American garage or yard sale and an English Car Boot Sale. It means, literally, "Empty attic". Bought a couple of things, a serving platter, glass pitcher, and set of a dozen BIG linen napkins (called serviettes here). She also had a lovely linen tablecloth, but it was only 2 meters long, and the new table I/we just bought is 2 meters long, so it wouldn't work. I just bought the napkins. And I didn't try to bargain on the price, which you are supposed to do. Tant pis!

Weather has been seriously crazy. It's rather like Ireland. Last year when we were here, I don't think we actually had to eat inside a single time; this year it's been crazy. It's clear as a bell: you take everything out; you start eating; it starts raining; you take everything inside; two minutes later, the sun is out again...

A plus tard,

Lillie

fruits, vegetables and recycling

Nobody seems to be making any comments on my blog, AND I can't tell if anybody is reading it. sob....

Everywhere you go (almost, well, at least in the supermarkets), you see all these signs everywhere that say you should eat at least 5 fruits and vegetables/day to have a healthy diet. So I'm wondering: what counts as a fruit or vegetable? does cassis jam on my toast count as a fruit? On the left you see what we had for lunch. It's a sandwich on

a baguette with smoked salmon, cucumber, lettuce, butter and a bit of salad dressing. The salad is tomato, more cucumber, garlic, onion and fresh mozzarella with some of Madame's wonderful walnut oil on it. The stuff in the glass is a Bergerac Rouge that I opened by mistake; I had written 2012 on the label, which means it shouldn't necessarily be drunk until then, but it's really good. So what counts? the tomato? the onion? cucumber? bit of lettuce? does a glass of vin rouge count as a fruit? If these all count, then I've already had more than my 5 servings, as I also had jam on my toast this morning. I think I feel virtuous...

On to recycling. Couze is a VERY small village, part of the commune of Lalinde (a commune roughly translat

es to a county, but the size of communes is HIGHLY variable). I think the population is about 850 or maybe it's 650. It is small. Gets bigger in the summer of course when the holiday place down the hill has people visiting. They pick up trash twice a week; we take it down to the road in plastic bags on Monday and Thursday evenings and it gets picked up. There are two kinds of trash: trash (goes in any sort of plastic bag) and recycling, which goes into these yellow bags. You can put paper, magazines, cardboard, metal cans, and all plastics in there, and I mean ALL plastic. And everybody does. Plastic bags that the tomatoes were in at the supermarket? They go. Plastic bottles? yes. It's great; they are serious about recycling over here. You have to take your bottles to the big green bin thing down at the post office. This is a SMALL town, no bigger than Millersburg, KY. MUCH smaller than Paris. Kentucky, that is.

And I won't get started on the small car issue again. I love our Peugeot 207 five door diesel. Don't know how much mileage it gets, but it's about 60 mpg. Plenty of get up and go, easy to maneuver, park, etc., comfortable (yes!), has AC...and I can't bring it back with me because you can't take these cars to the USA because, although they don't pollute nearly as much as American-accep

table cars, they don't have catalytic converters. aarghhh.

enough already.

Remember the kittens that were dropped through our bedroom window into the house? The two on the left are the ones Phil found under our bed. Sorry, Martin, I took them outside...

More on the market, I think

So I was running around trying to photograph interesting things at the market (Sarah complained last year that I didn't include enough visuals), and the guy with the oyster and mussel stand started teasing me, saying all Americans ALWAYS have cameras. I guess I look like an American (there aren't actually that many around here) because I hadn't yet said anything other than Bonjour. So I made him pose for a photo:

The guy in the right photo above, black shirt, sort of leaning over behind the stall, is the vegetable vendor who doesn't like Germans. He's clearly from around here, appears to be my age or a bit older, and my guess is that his relatives were involved in the Resistance. This is pure conjecture, but I've seen him in action at the market when German tourists were buying stuff; he will practically throw his produce at them.

And then there are the olives:

water again

It's not clear whether the water is back on or not. I mean, it was, and then it wasn't, and now it's not clear. Go figure.

Lunch today: rillettes de porc (pork rillettes, bits of pork left over from other things, cooked down with seasoning, packed in a jar, great stuff, as are rillettes de canard, made of duck) on a baguette with mustard, lettuce and cornichons. Olives from the market, Phil's Camembert after, which, according to him, seems sufficiently "ripe". In other words, it's gooey and has maggots in it.

Market was fun.

Ran into my pal Chantal and her mother Ginette; she used to work at Maison de la Presse. Chantal, that is. Met them at a party at Ken and Val's a couple of years ago. Bought geraniums, some basil, parsley and more chives. Geraniums for the planters. PHil is planting them now.

Also met a couple of more British ex-pats, Jane and Erwin something other other, very German name (he's German), live over by Lanquais, also Sue and Alan Bevan, from Hertfordshire.

All nice, Jane and Erwin very interesting. The lady at the left is the old Gascon woman I buy walnut oil from; this is the first time I've seen the other woman with her, who is clearly her daughter. Look at the old lady closely; she must be nearly 90. And they were selling ducks and chickens at the market, too; the kid there wanted to play with them.

Turns out I was wrong about the Germans going around Issigeac and leaving it alone, as it still looks like a medieval village up on a hill (reminds me of York...it's lovely). The reason they didn't trash it is that they were using it for their HQ in the area. Wish I could find a (good, reliable, READABLE) book about the Resistance/war in this area that is in English. There's lots around in French, but it's such a workout to read.

Going back to look at fridges this afternoon, also I think to pay a visit to the Tresorie Lalinde, aka the location of the Finances Publique (I think it's sort of the tax office, but seems to get involved in much, much more) and fuss about water...

More from the market later; it doesn't seem to want to upload any more photos...

spiders and webs

This cottage is easily 600 years old, the bones of it, at least. This means the basic structure, walls, cave, etc. It's built into the side of the mountain or big hill or whatever you call it, up at the top, with the back wall being the outside stone wall of the old chateau (owned by Jean de la Salle, and a thoroughly despicable character, according to all existing evidence), which was destroyed during the Hundred Years' War. As I have mentioned before here and/or elsewhere, the cottage is thought/assumed to have been the gatehouse for the chateau, and the ancient stone steps down at the road lend credence to this. They are sort of treacherous, and I don't attempt them without my cane these days. And we can't do anything to improve them because they are "historic", "listed", whatever. But enough of that.

The house clearly has good "bones", and is finished with care to retain same. Lovely tile floor on the main level; good plaster, etc. on the walls, stuff like that. THe problem is (I think) that in any place this old, there are sort of "ghosts" of animals, etc., past. We had the place cleaned from top to bottom (it took two people an entire day, and they vacuumed EVERYTHING, beams, top and bottom, as well as doing the obvious). It was lovely to come back to the place in good shape, and not needing serious cleaning.

I now have a duster gizmo (blue, yellow and pink, after a fashion) that I am using daily to tackle all the spiders and webs that appear EVERY DAY all over the place. Thank you, Robyn (she and a pal cleaned the place); I can actually manage to keep up with all the beasts, small that they are, that appear regularly every day. I assume they have been breeding in the walls inside the stones for so many hundreds of years that they can't break the habit! I, however, plan to win this battle! So there...

And now if they would just turn the water back on...

Cheers, Lillie

no water

So I have a grand scheme to get rid of the seriously cheap, crummy, crappy, badly-installed cupboards in the kitchen and replace them with decent but reasonably priced IKEA stuff. I would also like to get rid of the dining room set in the eat-in kitchen (it's 19th century reproduction Henri II style, made in Perigord if the legs and feet styles are to be relied on), and replace it with a farmhouse table of some sort, e.g., like what we have in the kitchen in Kentucky. So when I went out looking for a new/old table and somebody who might want to buy the stuff we have now, they were (again, of course) working on the stuff for the sewer that is going through up here. The road has been torn up for the past year, of course, and they were drilling stuff and shoveling sand down at the bottom of the steps to the road.

I actually got a lead on somebody who might buy the dining room set, and also found another place that has a table and chairs that are WONDERFUL (more on those later), and who also told me exactly what the set I now have is by looking at my photos (which I already knew), and told me how much I ought to be able to sell them for. He doesn't handle that kind of stuff, though. The table I found is late 17th century/early 18th century and is a "table de chasse", or a "hunting table", designed with a huge pull-out drawer for putting the deer or boar or whatever you've killed in, and a table for butchering. It's incredible. I measured it, photographed it, discussed the chairs, and can probably get him to come down farther from what is a price that would make you guys fall out of your chairs already, if I buy it AND the six side chairs (not unlike the ones in our kitchen in Kentucky, but in better shape) AND the two armchairs.

So I came home quite pleased with myself, after stopping at Intermarche to buy steak so P could have "steak frites" but without the "frites".

Guess what. There is no water. Jeannette says that the yobs who were working on the stuff down on the street almost certainly turned our water off at the street (without telling us, of course) and failed to remember to turn it back on when they left.

Jeannette says I should chew them out in the morning. Turns out that if they aren't there in the morning (she says they haven't finished, and WILL be there...) I have to go discuss it at the water office somewhere in Lalinde.

This is, after all, France...

We're going down to the pizza place in Couze to eat.

Cheers, Lillie

more random thoughts

Will post more about the Lyon, etc. trip later. I have photos to upload.

Sarah now has cannele molds. I found a bunch of them and bought them. Big ones and little ones. Enough for everybody. Also brioche molds. And these are all silicone and don't weigh anything.

Phil is having an attack of Americanism. He wants "steak frites", e.g., steak and fries, for dinner. I'm not doing the fries, but I will do steak and potatoes.

We're having deluges here. Last night it was coming down in sheets (so much the town looked white), and I started hearing what sounded for all the world like splashing in the utility room. It was. Two places. Leak in ceiling in bathroom, too (same piece of roof as utility room). I emailed Mark, who showed up (bless his heart!) this morning with a ladder and a couple of tiles, and sure enough, there was a seriously broken tile up there right above the wall between utility room and bathroom. He replaced it. Said it possibly just cracked, given heating and cooling and the age of the tiles. I blame it on the cats. There are far too many of them around. Like the one who dropped her kittens in through our window. They fight up there sometimes. Jeannette feeds them.

Still haven't done anything about the Finances Publique, and Tresorie Lalinde stuff that I don't understand. M. Arbaudie is going to bring us some fuel oil today or tomorrow. Ch Ching! Heat!

Not that we can afford it. And M. Guari (whose wife is MUCH easier to understand than he is), the local appliance/tv merchant in Couze, has a fridge I may buy, but he's getting some more in tomorrow. And the one I'm looking at is a brand I recognize, and at a price we can afford. I like buying from somebody local, rather than from LeClerc, which would be like buying an appliance from Best Buy in the US. The compressor or whatever it is that goes out on a fridge is going out on ours.

Elaine Pagels is going to be at CCC in Lexington October 15-17, which (ugh!) is when we are likely to be back in France. ****.

The river Couze is up because of the rain. Do you realize there are people who actually BUY old mills on these creeks and rivers, remodel them and live in them?!? I might suggest this is a seriously dumb idea and a recipe for constant flooding problems.

That chateau on the canal between here and St. Capraise that has been derelict, neglected, etc., and looks like it was once the chateau for a major wine operation, has tenants. Evidently somebody is running a B&B, selling stuff, so they must have fixed it up, etc. I'm relieved. There was a Brocante (sort of flea market) there a couple of Sundays ago, with "restauration" (e.g., food) available, but I forgot to go. One wing is still roof-less, though.

We got the two chevets we bought in St. Etienne back without mishap (these are bedside tables, virtually always with marble tops, use to be used to store a chamber pot...the ones we bought are lovely but new, about 1950, and have drawers instead of a cupboard for a chamber pot). The one that was upstairs is now down in the cave.

Tomorrow is market day in Lalinde. I'm off to do more errands...

Will post about the rest of the food in Lyon and thereabouts a bit later.

CHeers, Lillie

Friday to Lyon

So after P gave his talk at wherever it was, had lunch, schmoozed with a host of other biologists and the occasional mathematician who does biological modeling, we drove across the Rhone to Lyon. Actually we detoured to an antiques shop I'd found near the hotel in St. Etienne where I'd found most of an entire set of Limoges (ca. 1900) with approximately a zillion plates, six soup bowls and more serving pieces than I've seen of ANYTHING in a long time, and she wanted only 200 euros for it (I don't really like the china we have in Couze). Phil, however, didn't like it much, but found a couple. of non-antique (ca. 1950) bedside tables with lots of inlay and marble tops (we need same) for 200 euros. We bought them, somehow got them into the tiny Peugeot, after driving through these pedestrian streets (you'd NEVER do this in the US, but nobody seemed surprised), and miraculously they made it back to Couze intact. They also had a wonderful very old (1800?) table I desperately wanted, however, it was (a) 900 euros, (b) too big to even strap to the top of the Peugeot, WAY too big, (c) we don't need it, (d) can't afford it, (e) not sure what we'd do with the stuff we already have in the kitchen, which I don't like much, and (f) also not sure it would FIT in the house in Couze, even if all of the above were not issues...

And then there would be the issue of chairs. And also, we were about to go to Lyon...

which we did.

Hotel Globe et Cecil (!) is on Presqu-Ile, very near Place Bellecour, a good location. Much nicer than the place in St. Etienne, also had AC, but no larger, and no parking (available for 24 euros/day in public non-secure parking nearby or 15 euros/day in secured private lot a bit farther away...you choose...). Also no free wifi. Used to belong to the Vatican, evidently, and was used for visiting Prelates or whatever you call them, until at some point in the (probably distant) past the Vatican sold it, and it acquired its strange name. It's sort of seriously convenient to the Cathedral in Lyon, the Cathedral de St. Jean, across the Saone almost directly from Place Bellecour, with its Primatiale residence (aka Archbishop's house).

Lyon is lovely; looks a lot like Paris. We spent all of our 36 hours on Presqu-Ile and Vieux Lyon, for a couple of reasons. First, aside from eating (!), we had made a list of priorities, which were: the basilica at the top of the hill; the Gallo-Romain museum, next to the basilica (actually higher on the list and more interesting); vieux Lyon; the Museum of the Resistance and Deportation (on the left bank of the Rhone), and the museums and churches on Presqu-Ile. What happened was that we ate Friday night at an incredible place. On Saturday it was HOT. We went up to the top to the basilica (briefly) and the Gallo-Romain museum (much longer); by then it was past time for lunch, Lillie was tired, we were both hungry, and all other options paled.

We ate lunch at this place (with nearby street musicians) at the bottom of the funicular to the basilica and museum, where we were able to watch the gathering of various people for a wedding in the cathedral (!), complete with Archbishop (Lord, Have Mercy!). P had at this point had NOTHING to eat or drink all day except a couple of cups of strong, black coffee, and "didn't feel well"!

More about Friday night later, but this was lunch on Saturday! also more about the wedding in the cathedral (with Archbishop) and Vieux Lyon.

Cheers

St. Etienne and Lyon

Still haven't managed to upload the pictures from the little red camera, which seems to annoy me a lot (the camera, that is). I used the old Sony (bigger, more zoom, fewer pixels, smaller little black thing, but we get along better) on the trip to St. Etienne and Lyon.

I've sort of wanted to visit Lyon for a LONG time, and had never been before

. St. Etienne is on the west side of the Saone/Rhone (which come together at Lyon), at the edge of the Massif Centrale,

and Phil has a colleague who is one of the editors of his online journal at St. Etienne. We went there first, had dinner with Nicolas, his wife Patricia and oldest daughter Elise; they had spent a year at UC Berkeley, and Elise wanted to have dinner with some English speakers. It was delightful; stayed in downtown St. Etienne (sorry, folks, I don't think the town is all that interesting, albeit there are a couple of interesting museums I didn't visit, and a planned community designed by Corbusier that I would have loved to visit, but couldn't face the crazy roads, traffic, and trip alone...). Phil did a talk on Friday; I played. Did a bit of shopping and sight-seeing, and ate lunch at the Michelin One-Star restaurant in St. Etienne; it turned out to be about two blocks from our hotel. Called Nouvelle; the chef and all the staff I saw are female (!). Lunch was good but not great, and reasonable...

I had the Menu and a glass of white wine; the first one she talked me into was, shall we say, not all that dry, and I demanded another one. Got Sauvignon Blanc from the Touraine. My lunch was beef carpaccio with mesclun, salad dressing, etc., and a "tian" of poisson (fish) from the market. Not sure exactly what a "tian" is, and didn't bother to find out what kind of fish

it was. It was good, and was probably some kind of fish I/we have never heard of before...

Sorry about that. The carpaccio was good; not sure what cut of beef it was...

and then there was the tian:

yet more random thoughts

Sarah,

I will get you one or more cannele molds. I also found at LeClerc these things that are officially crepe pans (not that a person needs an "official" crepe pan), and I may get one for Martin. He has been making noises lately about learning how to cook, and they have one of these things that is non-stick, so shallow it's unfit for virtually anything else, and red on the bottom. Sounds like Martin, right?

I think I finally sorted out my problem with the electric bill. I decided I needed expert help, went to the post office where you are supposed to be able to pay your EDF bills, and was only marginally successful there (e.g., not at all, even between the lady at the post office who spoke no English and the English woman there who said she could help me, but didn't...) I finally went to the bank, and the lady there sorted it all out, at least I think she did, and it's a good thing I went because what I was about to do was WRONG.

For lunch we had pate sandwiches and tomato salad (I took a picture, but haven't uploaded it yet). For dinner I cooked the duck breast I had in the fridge, used (more or less) a recipe out of Kate Hill's book about food in Gascony: marinate in quatres epices, salt, pepper, mustard and Armagnac, sear, cook and reduce the marinade, wine vinegar, wine and capers (this is when the explosion happened, I actually have burns, good thing I had my glasses on, there was crap splattered all over the walls, floors, stove, counters, me...). It was actually very good except for the burns. Had it with potatoes (Lord, the potatoes over here are wonderful...)

Jeannette tells me it's going to be sunny and hot for the next few days or week or so; so far, it's been chilly and damp. If tonight's sunset is an indicator, it's about to be gorgeous. I just hope it's not too hot.

We're off to St. Etienne and Lyon tomorrow...

Cheers, Lillie

more random thoughts

Food:

Didn't feel like cooking, although I have in the fridge both veal oxtails and a fresh duck breast. We had something approaching a "salade compose", which was a plate with (a) arugula and mache; (b) the rest of the smoked salmon (1 piece); (c) the rest of the sausage I got the other day at the market; (d) cucumber, onion, red bell pepper and radishes; (e) the rest of the prawns; and (f) some wild boar sausage I got at the market. Dressed with lemon juice, salt, pepper, and EVOO. Served with vin ordinaire in a water bottle, French bread (a ficelle), aged goat cheese rounds, the rest of the Brie, and some Roquefort. Hey, we're leaving on Thursday and you don't want to go off with any of this stuff in the fridge, right?

I went out and bought a new Epson all in one printer at LeClerc today after we confirmed that the US HP printer won't work with Frence (EU) ink. Life is too short to spend it trying to get printers to work. This one is nice, however, there's a problem getting it to talk to the computer wirelessly. Something to do with the Livebox/Orange/France Telecom ADSL link we have. HOWEVER, it works just fine with a cable, even on the Windows 7 computer, and like I told P, the DSL here in Couze, population 800 and far away from anywhere, is SO much better than our satellite internet in Paris, that I'm not all that excited about it. I just paid bills using Click 'n' Pay with the UKFCU. It worked. Fast. Efficiently. No problem. Didn't get dropped. Not exactly the same experience I have on the farm in Paris. Kentucky, that is...

I also found (and of course, bought) some cannele molds at LeClerc (it's sort of a mega-Kroger-turned-semi-shopping mall, outside ((sort of)) Bergerac). They should keep me.

On another note: Why exactly doesn't the US have dollar coins, and quit printing dollar bills? Yes, I know, they have them, but people complained because they were too similar to quarters...so why not (!) re-design them, make them NOT like quarters? quit printing dollar bills? Should save a ton of money. Printing all those paper dollars all the time must cost a fortune. Coins last rather a lot longer. And then they could put in these things like they have all over Europe (and I mean ALL OVER), where the supermarket/whatever market buggies/carts have this gizmo on them where they are all linked together and you have to put in a euro/dollar coin to get them loose, and you get your coin back when you return the buggie? Here there are no carts blocking cars, etc., all over the parking lot. It would put a few people out of work, but would make rather a lot of things much more orderly and would save stores money. People would grumble (they always do!) but they would get over it in a heartbeat.

Cheers, Lillie