Southern Fried French

Just Another Saturday in France

It's Saturday, and for us that means the vegetable market in Cluny.

Markets in France, the good ones, are not just markets but events.  Today, a sunny Saturday in July, we're off early so as not to miss any of the action. With a brief stop to feed the Poubellies (see this post), we arrive to streets closed to traffic and full of  shoppers with saucy chapeaux and baskets, kids and dogs. Today there's an art show, and Morris dancing on the square 
(photo above), and a band of bagpipers. Ron heads off for du pain before he stakes out a table at the Bar du Nord in the center of the square, and I'm off to gather the summer bounty. Our table, shady under the big parasols, sometimes expands to 20 or more friends and neighbors. We are on les bises  (kissing) terms with all the servers.  There's an estivale spirit in the air, that fun French word that means summery.

The group starts with coffee, some drifting off to shop. Our friends Sabine and Gerard arrive at the café with a beautiful basket, brimming with cherries from their orchard, and lots of napkins. A bit later everyone is settled in and we switch from coffee to pitchers of rosé. After the bells in the abbey strike twelve, some of us wander off to find a sunny terrace for a leisurely lunch.

So join us for a little virtual tour.  Markets are one of the things France does best!  

Below:  coffee and cherries at "our table" at the café; the orange hat I bought.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Above, a Saturday Reveler

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 Above: Grabbing a table for lunch; a woman demonstrates old-fashioned lace-making.

 

RECIPE:  Ellen's Colorful Summer Salad

And then of course there are the market vegetables! My friend Ellen often brings this salad when we have a potluck lunch. For a smaller group it could be lunch itself.  It's full of bright market veggies, and simple to make.

Boil some eggs, cut into wedges, and arrange on a platter.  Next, spoon in a green bean salad.  Pile lots of tomato wedges in the center, and garnish with fresh herbs.

For the green bean salad, just mix a creamy dressing with tender-crisp steamed green beans, plus your choice of other vegetables:  tomato wedges, red onions, peppers, shallots.  You could just use mayonnaise seasoned with salt and pepper and a dash of grainy mustard for the dressing; or mix some mayonnaise with French Dressing #1.  Miam Miam!

 

 

In the COMMENTS:  Maureen, we eagerly await the next tour, with its UK start.  Michel of Sablet House has watched it from the formidable Mont Ventoux. Christine, you are so right, Paul, Bob and Phil are half the fun! Claude, I will concede there are guys from other countries out there being obnoxious, but I'm wlling to bet most are French, though no doubt a small subset of the French population (Martin, I'm in full support of your idea of what to do with those guys). However, the Spaniards who run with the bulls get my first prize for stupidity. 

Photo right:  A must-have designer accessory for the market, a chic shopping basket.

Hanging Out at the Tour

Photo:  When the Tour passed through Macon a couple of years ago, there were art installations and festivities everywhere.  

The Tour de France didn’t come anywhere near us this year, but it does pass close to us more often than not.  We’ve seen it in the countryside, we’ve been to one of the starts, and we’ve watched the now disgraced and dethroned Lance cross the finish line at the Champs-Elysées.  And if we can’t catch it live, we’re glued to the TV. Ron likes to follow the race closely, but I watch it more for the gorgeous scenery. Even my mom back in the states, who has no interest in cycling, watches it with the volume turned down, to see the spectacular views of mountain and coast and village.  

Today I came across some old photos of our crowd at the tour one year. Tour-watching is not quite like being a spectator at a regular sporting event.  Here’s how it works. 

First of all, you arrive early in the morning to set up camp in a good spot. It’s a perfect, sunny day, and everyone’s in a fine mood. The prime spots  are always on a long climb; they go down in a blur on the descent. Of course you have packed picnic supplies, wine, sun hats, and chairs.  

There are hours of merrymaking before anything happens. The crowd grows restless, then suddenly the parade begins. This is in form of sponsors with trucks and floats and decorated convertibles and other assorted vehicles, tossing small prizes of dubious value to the spectators. After a seemingly endless number have passed, and you’ve collected all the detergent samples you will ever need, you hear the whir of the TV helicopters---the riders are coming!  

And at last, the riders, the leaders first and then that colorful pack, the peloton, zipping up those hills at speeds you and I might ride DOWN the mountain. And in a couple of seconds, pouf!  The main event is over.  If you linger too long with your camera, you will have missed the action. (And of course you also get to watch, like it or not, those infantile French men who love to don bathing suits, tutus, or superhero costumes and desperately seek their own three seconds of camera time by throwing themselves in front of cyclists and chase cars, thus endangering not only their own lives but also those of the cyclists. Note to tour director: please instruct chase cars to just run right over them, and let’s get them out of the gene pool.)

So it’s all a bit like a very long (time-wise and miles!) tailgating party, where the game lasts only a few seconds.  But what a fast and furious game it is!

In the COMMENTS: Thank you to Jonelle, Jan, Melinda, and Natalia who have moving stories of cat rescues (Note: except that my husband specified a one-cat rule as a condition of our marriage, I’d be one of those ‘cat ladies’ with a hundred cats.)  Marilyn (of the Marilyn du Jour blog), I will surely name the next abandoned cat Hemingway, as alas, there is always another one. Claude, love the title, too funny!  Patricia, I’ve heard the SPCA in France doesn’t neuter because it’s ‘not natural’.  As if it were natural for domestic cats to be homeless!  Thanks as always for the kind comments.  And going back to the French Village post of the week before, John, it probably is a lot like Sullivan’s Island!

Favorite Reads, and some shopping:  Our friends Chris and Sue over at the European Market website scour all of Europe to bring you unique gifts that are Euro-chic, which can be delivered to your door.  This week they’ve interviewed me for their subscription newsletter---do subscribe if you haven't!  Here is a link to their facebook page, where they've posted one of my recipes.

And if you're shopping for summer reads, our good friends at The Daily Basics and the Shelf Pleasure Book Club have great recommendations for you this week.

 

The Rescue of the French "Poubellies"

It’s funny that the cutest French word, poubelle, means trash can. On the side of the road into Cluny there are 3 big poubelles by the road for recyclage.  Which is also a drop-off spot for unwanted cats.  When someone want to abandon their tiny kittens, they simply dump them there, to fend for themselves.  Folks who will not, in my book, be going to heaven.

Other people dropping off their bottles and such started feeding the cats periodically, which inspired more folks to abandon their cats there, and pretty soon there was a bevy of chats sauvage--feral cats. After one was run over, the neighbors took action.  Unable to find homes for all of them (though Lord knows we tried), we  moved them down the road to a quieter spot, built them a little cabin for food, and formed a group to feed them properly. The Poubellies, as we now call them, have been there three years now; there are seven of them, as cute and sweet as can be. All neutered now, and mostly tame. 

So let me introduce you to Pauline and KittyPoo, Smudge Bucket and Waldo, Big Mama and Thom and Double (so called because she accidentally got sterilized twice).  What’s funny is that each person who feeds them has their own names for them, reminding me of T.S. Eliots great poem, "The Naming of Cats". In which every cat has three names, but the Poubellies have even more. Photos: above,Pauline scratches an itch; Pauline and Big Mama in the snow. Left, Thom and Kittypoo (Domino's twin?)

The little cabin someone built for us was very small, so last year Ron and our neighbor Jean-Marie kindly built them what we refer to as Le Chat-eau. It has 3 floors, with six cozy sleeping nests plus room to feed them.  

They are now spoiled and fat; we feed them well, and daily (I'm referring to les chats, not  to Ron and Jean-Marie, though two out of three of the above applies to them as well). When I arrive the Poubellies emerge from wood and field, their tails at full mast. They talk to me with soft miaous and rub their silken selves on my legs. The winter is hard for them, but at least they have food and shelter.  

If I ever find the folks who abandoned them, there's a poubelle I'd like to personally stuff them into. We worry what will happen to these cats. Our team is dwindling; some of us leave for the winter, one is in ill health.  What  if we can’t continue? They are too wild, too accustomed to their home to be moved, even if we were lucky enough to find a place for them. But for now, we feed and love them, and hope for the best.

Photo above:  Our heros Jean-Marie and Ron build the chat-eau.  Left: A cat called Smudge Bucket.  What other name would possibly do?

Favorite BLOGS: I know some of our readers are learning SPANISH, and I have a new friend, Amit, who does the  popular Always Spanish blog.  Amit was kind enough to publish an article I wrote, expanding on my book How to Learn a New Language with a Used Brain. The article is called "Can Learning Spanish Make You Smarter?"  (and the short answer is YES, and with French too!).

Another new blog I've discovered that will be of great interest to French learners: Jennie n'est plus en France, and her corresponding website, ielangagues, with free tutorials. 

 

BIG book news this week!  Our loyal reader Michaela Kane Rodeno, sister of my great friend Mark Kane, has just published a book! Michaela has recently retired, but she rose from the ranks to be a CEO of a Napa Valley winery.  From Bubbles to Boardrooms: Act 1: Startups Are Such Fun is her memoir.  Buy it if you're interested in wine, or especially if you're an entrepeneur looking to refine your career plan (and don't we all know a young person like that? This makes a great gift). I loved the book, it's a great read. Felicitations, Michaela. The book is available in print or in eBook format.  It also makes a fine gift for any wine lover you know!

In the COMMENTS:  Great comments on what Iz calls the "Peyton Place's" of France.  Mariella has another great story from her village. Barbara of The Wise Collector notes correctly that the best village story comes from the movie Chocolat.  Jonelle, Bébé is a great cat name, of course you must bring her to France! Christine of Pen at the Ready has an update for us on the French restaurant crisis---and yes, the legislation passed! Colleen (Colleen Taylor Fine Art), we may have to torture you for that cream puff recipe!

And a friendly reminder to my readers: When you have Amazon purchases to make, please start here, by searching in the Amazon window in the left column. ANY purchase on  Amazon that originates through this blog helps keep it going. Mille mercis!

 

The French Village, A Hotbed of Intrigue & Dissent?

Those charming, ancient French villages and hamlets: they look like they shelter a lifestyle from a happier time, but oh la LA! There is intrigue, there are secret trysts, there are old grudges from the war, there are shady shenanigans. Just like anywhere, I suppose, except that, well, they all look so bucolic!

Case in point: Friends who live in nearby village told us that they are surely the last people in France to get DSL (a high-speed internet connection). They've been living with a dial-up connection, and ils grognent--they are quite grumpy about it. (Even in tiny Balleure, we got a speedy connection years ago). So they were thrilled when the powers-that-be decided to put up a sort of wi-fi booster tower, so they could join the 21st century.   

But wait!  There was strong opposition to the ugly tower in some quarters. After much fussing and carrying on, the tower was erected, but very unwisely they placed it just outside the gate of one of the most vocal opponents. It only took a week before the tower was found cut in half and lying on the ground. One of the neighbors took the utility box off the tower and hung it up in a nearby walnut tree, in the desperate hope that it might help their wi-fi. It remains there, hanging in limbo, like their high-speed connection. PHOTO:  a peek inside a village window.

In another nearby village a married woman had an affair with a married man. The two lovers paraded about quite brazenly in the village. One of the spouses was said to know about it, and to approve. But when the other wife found out, as quick as you can say cherchez la femme, monsieur was out on the street.  All the neighbors then took sides, and soon half the village was faché with the other half.  Your French lesson du jour: you can be en colère with someone, and that just means angry.  Or you can pique une colère, which is to have a temper tantrum as Madame did. But when you are faché, you are not speaking at all, c’est fini!

RECIPE:  Black Forest Parfaits

In summer, who wants to mess with a complicated dessert?  Recently at a restaurant here we were served a Black Forest Parfait (parfait means "perfect" in French, though French parfaits are traditionally frozen). Cherries are in season here and I had some of Renee's Magnolia Days cookies left over (see last week's post), so I'll be making these.  Here's my plan:

Pit some fresh cherries, add a little lemon juice and sprinkle generously with sugar. A splash of cherry liqueur, Amaretto, or Gran Marnier would not be unwelcome.

For the cookie layer, crumble up some of Renee's cookies, or use Nabisco's famous chocolate wafer cookies.

For the cream layer, you could use vanilla pudding, ice cream, or even Greek yogurt, but I will make a clever filling that a chef taught me once: whip some cream, and when soft peaks form, add a bit of vanilla INSTANT pudding mix (a couple of teaspoons per cup of cream will do). This will stabalize and thicken the whipped cream. Beat to stiff peaks. 

Now layer it all, and top it off with some shaved chocolate or sliced almonds. Perfect!

In the COMMENTS:  We certainly have some cat lovers in the group! Annette (cat, Ernest) has a great cat quote.  Chris of the Pen at the Ready blog, also has a cat, Max, who's an aspiring writer, as does Iz (cat, Miles).  Maria of the Feed on Him blog has a Domino twin.  Meanwhile Natalia and family like to "hoof it" like the French, and Rachel, of And Then Make Soup, you are right about the French and their leisure time! We still have comments coming in about the elderflowers. Kathy says it helps colds, Sarah makes jelly with the blooms, and Cynthia (cat, Gershwin) and Suzanne have educated me about St. Germain liqueur, made from elderflowers. Virginia of Paris Through my Lens, sorry to scare you with the B-word!

Favorite reads:  One more French lesson for you. Speaking of cats, loyal reader Mel recommends two French books by a Chinese author called Le Chat Zen  and Le Chat Philosophe . He says "The author is an artist and fills the little books with her lovely designs featuring cats and Chinese philosophy." Sounds like required reading for the cat-obcessed (I'm guilty!)