The Ravishing of Dominique by The Italian Policeman, and Other Stories

Photo:  a cockerel named Joyce, and friends.  Painting by Margaret Chambers.

Our red-headed British friend Margaret, a great raconteuse and a painter, moved to a Burgundy farmhouse with her husband Paul back when expats were as rare as hen's teeth, some 25 years ago.   If you’ve followed this ‘blob’ from the beginning, you may remember her as the person who got us to the château, by introducing us to Nicole and Pierre.

One day Margaret and I were sipping tea together on the back porch of house of her house (porch being mostly a southern word, though in Charleston we’d call it a piazza, and in Burgundy it’s a galerie. But I digress).  Her garden is overlooked by a small château, which is on a steep bluff above their house, so the view is quite pretty.  As we sat talking, a small, colorful band of chickens, the parade led by a shamelessly flamboyant cock, emerged from the château garden and carefully picked their way down the rocky bank and into her yard.  These were Margaret’s chickens, which she kept just because she found them pretty.  Apparently they lunch at the château and show up chez Margaret promptly at tea time each day.

Margaret told me the story of the colorful cockerel, mysteriously named Joyce, who was born with four other chicks but completely ignored by his mother. “When I took it from the nest, newly born, it was a wet little thing, both sides of its head bleeding”, she told me.  “ I warmed him up with my hands a bit.  Our  noddy cat was sleeping in a tight ball, so I tucked him inside, against her stomach.  She roused herself briefly, meowed sleepily in protest, and went back to sleep.”

 Margaret left them to cuddle, but just before guests arrived for a dinner party that evening, the cat decided she’d had enough of chick parenting, and sauntered off.  Unable to devote any time to the chick but knowing it needed heat, Margaret quickly fashioned a little papoose, popping the chick inside, and hung in on a chain around her neck over her dinner dress.  The chick stayed warm, and Margaret sported what may be the most unique jewelry ever seen in France: a live chicken necklace.

Then there was the incident of Dominique and the Italian Policeman.  Margaret pointed out Dominique,  a black and white checked hen of considerable charm and a favorite of Margarets.  Dominique was destined to die of old age, and never see the inside of the freezer. 

“We named our last cock the Italian Policeman because his dark jacket of feathers had colorful specks, like the medals on a uniform,” Margaret explained.   “Dominique is getting old and has no further interest in the attentions of a cock.”  The Italian Policeman, however, had other plans.  One day they found Dominique had been completely scalped: all her head feathers missing, her head bloodied.  She was promptly placed in a protective cage.  The Italian Policeman, who had become tiresome, was soon to meet his maker, and the frying pan.  Dominique’s feathers grew back, with only a head that was a bit misshapen to tell the tale of her abuse.

A sad epilogue to this post:  Margaret died, after a long struggle with cancer, shortly after telling me this tale, and her bright, gentle spirit is much missed by all who knew her.

Margaret left the cooking to her husband Paul—except for desserts, which she loved to make.  So in her memory, here is my version of a Burgundy favorite.

RECIPE:  Poached Pears Vin Chaud

Vin Chaud is a hot, spiced red wine that  is commonly served in France in the winter, especially at outdoor  festivals  and such.   For this dessert, pears are cooked and marinated in vin chaud, which is reduced to a rich syrup.  Make this the day before serving.

Serves 4.

• 2 cups red wine
• Juice of a small orange
• ½ cup sugar
• A dozen black peppercorns
• 2 cloves and 2 whole allspice
• 1 small cinnamon stick
• Dash of salt
• 4 pears
• 1 teaspoon vanilla extract

Combine all ingredients except pears and vanilla in medium saucepan.  Stir and simmer several minutes until sugar is dissolved.  Set aside.

Peel pears and cut in half.  Put pears in wine mixture, cover, and simmer slowly until they are soft but not mushy when you put a fork in them; begin checking after 10 minutes.  Turn them every few minutes with a spoon, if the  liquid doesn’t cover them completely.

Remove pears to a storage container.  Reduce wine mixture by simmering, uncovered, until it’s reduced by half (begin checking at 10 minutes).  Remove from heat, stir in vanilla.

Pour wine mixture through a strainer over pears and refrigerate overnight. To serve, put  pear halves in bowls and spoon syrup over.  I serve it chilled, but it's also good at room temperature, or warmed up.

In the Comments:  Will the death of corks save wine, or screw it up?  Don't miss the lively discussion about Jean-Marc’s guest blog last week. And Mark asks, what to do with all those saved corks?  Well, here’s one idea.  A friend made these placecard holders for us this year for Thanksgiving—very cute. Just take a slice off the bottom of the cork and make a slit for the paper.

 

This week I’ll share a favorite book for those interested in traveling to Burgundy, or who love the cuisine: Pedaling Through Burgundy Cookbook which is both tour guide and cookbook by one of my favorite food writers, Sarah Leah Chase. Click on the link for more info.

 

Unless otherwise attributed, all POSTS, PHOTOS and RECIPES on this blog copyright ©2010 Lynn McBride.  All Rights Reserved. 

 

Comments

[patricia schiavone]

Just love your stories...I felt transported there especially now that we are close to Christmas...I miss my native home.Merci.

[Mark Kane]

A lovely story. Quite touching. Bravo for the hommage to your late friend.

[Katy George]

about those lovely disappearing corks, i've made a nice bulletin board of them and am now tossing them out in my garden dining area to pave the dirt. they're too pretty to throw away.

[Katy Farr]

Mutual friend, John Pernell, signed me up to receive your wonderful missives. I have enjoyed each one immensely since being signed on in September! Re what to do with all those saved corks....they make terrific kindling when lighting the fireplace (just be sure not to use the plastic ones!). We've been doing it for years and it's much easier than running through the woods looking for twigs because we ALWAYS have corks!! Thanks for sharing the fun recipes. Where are you in France? I'm in Giverny every October. Perhaps we should meet! A bientot! Katy Farr, Washington, D.C.

[Lisa Marini Finerty]

Chickens, chicken friends and friends, weaving their way through my day, thanks to you. Thanks for sharing such a wonderful story.

[Margaret Dennis]

Thank you for the post and the cookbook tip. We will be staying in Burgundy Sept. 2011 and love to cook so this book goes on the Xmas list!