The fruits of nature and foraging

Summer is still clinging on.  There are good days where the sunshine bank is over delivering with hot rays and blue skies followed by violent 'orages' ... that's storms. One can't help thinking that Autumn will be sharing her glorious autumnal glow very soon.  Berries have ripened.  The sunflowers look like they have hung their heads in shame... that will be the storm damage and not having enough water through nearly 8 weeks of minimal rain. Conkers are falling. Road sides are laden with ripe blackberry bushes, each over burdened branch beckoning pick me, pick me.  Tips of trees are just taking on that burnt crisp tinge.

Paul and I have done our fair share of blackberry picking... to the point that we have cut short evenings out armed with white plastic bowls to pick the best crops that we have spotted!  We have received a donation of mirabelle plums.  Our French neighbour who is a retired farmer often knocks on the door with a glut of home grown goodies.   Very recently we were in receipt of some juicy tomatoes from him.  Timely I thought... as having recently seen the film Sugar... I am determined to make more sauces from scratch thus eliminating the need to use sugar.

We are also lucky to have 3 bramley apple trees.  In order to avoid interaction with the wasps, I have been getting up early to pick up off the floor the best of the 'drops' and stocking up on apple and blackberry crumbles for the winter.

Last night [Thursday] after exchanging 'ca va' [how are you] with our French farmer neighbour,  he asked if we wanted some pomme de terres.... now I am quite respectful of my elders, but I had to restrain myself from biting off his right arm!  As born and bred Brits,  Paul and I love potatoes, what Brit doesn't?  And for 3 years I have purchased sparingly, as they are quite expensive in France.  Quite surprising for a country that grows plenty of them.  In French he said he would bring the potatoes round on his tractor and quarante, quarante.... So my mind races thinking quarante is €40 and if he is bringing the tractor into our garden there's going to be a hefty load!!

Within in minutes our neighbour has driven his tractor into our garden, performed a 3 point turn on threepence... he clearly has still got it in terms of being a skillful tractor driver and deposits 2 very large sacks of beautiful potatoes.  Clearly 40 kilos, for a princely sum of €25... now that is what I call a good purchase.  You can expect to pay €3 for 2.5kg.

I will pay it forward with my potatoe purchase to those who have shared their fruitful wares with us and we will look forward to having more of our favourite staple in our Autumnal diet!

It's a new dawn for daisy

The morning started off damp, there was little cloud coverage for this time of year, June. The start of a new gloriously day looming expectantly by us all in the garden. The last hoot of the owl. The break of dawn brought in by the dawn chorus, nature's alarm clock, to invite all and sundry to prepare for the dawn of a new day.

A hedgehog scurries back to his place of hibernation and refuge, it looked like he had had a good night. I feel the slow majestic sound of snails taking themselves back to their hidey holes. I sense that they will not want to be out today.

Around me awakening and aliveness begins to take shape. I feel insects moving hurriedly here and there. An ant stops by, takes a sip of moisture from me and in a nano second is gone. It's thirsty work being a member of nature.

As the stars disintegrate into the night sky, just for a while though, as they will be back tonight and I will be asleep.

I feel the slightest of breezes brush against me, but I stand strong, I am ready. I feel the warmth as I steady myself, bracing myself for this new day, like others before me who have stood tall.

Like a theatre curtain, the clouds move away as if introducing the best act of the day. Around me much has changed already. I see one stem which has nothing to present today, probably a victim of the snail earlier in the morning. The roses, majestic and regal. The dandelion, striving to stretch itself ever taller. Some have had their day, white fluff ready to take take off on the wind to reap the reward in pastures new.

I begin to feel dry, the moisture has been breathed away by the warm tentacles of the sun. It is comforting.

I feel a sudden surge of energy within me. I feel my petals unfold. Gently, one by one, my comrades around me are doing the same, it feels good. I have been waiting for this moment for a few days now. It is here, I am ready. I never knew I had this many petals. Delicate, opaque, strong. All folded back so that my yellow florets are in full view of the sun.

I stand tall, proud. I have awakened under the direction and guidance of nature and am ready to soak up the warm rays of the sun. I look around me, there are others like me in clusters. Another gentle breeze brushes us allowing us to bow to each other and acknowledge each others existence. Gently oh so gently we regain composure and present ourselves to the fullness of the sun which has risen in the east.

339 kilometres to confirm change is good

Change... it's rather amazing what you become used to.  You don't give it too much thought when the hum drum of daily life challenges you.  Real change leaves a much deeper impression that only becomes noticeable when time away from the daily hum drum [whether for a day or a week] gently reminds us just how much we have adjusted to it.

Having lived in rural France now for two years a trip to Versailles at the end of the peak tourist season was a welcome break for my husband and I and as it was his birthday, was a good time to take a few days out.  Unfortunately working British expats have not yet grasped the downing of tools for most of August and turn the work tap off and spend it idly soaking up the sun [if there's any]. 

We took advantage of booking our travel by TGV 3 months ahead to get a substantial reduction on our First Class travel to Montparnasse, Paris.  With hotel and taxi pick up booked the day of our maiden voyage by TGV arrived on Friday 3rd October.

The TGV was a wonderful experience, one that WILL be repeated again and again.  One hour and forty minutes from Poitier to Paris covering 339 kilometres.  Mmmm Brighton to London at roughly 85 kilometres would take on average one hour and twenty minutes.  We had read and heard stories that the French train system has a certain "je ne sais quoi" but "bon voyage" has taken on a whole new meaning for us!

Our arrival into the big city made us feel like we were reintegrating into society, we hadn't seen this many people since renewing my passport in May 2012 in London.  Paris was vibrant, chaotic but with panache!  

A booked taxi took us to our hotel at Versailles, which was literally 5 minutes away from Chateau de Versailles and wow!   Seeing the palace was jaw dropping... tourists from every country were queuing to see this opulent French monument and now we see why.

After the Versailles visit we took  the RER to Paris and made use of the bateaux-mouche along the River Seine to see several sites such as the Eiffel Tower, Notre Dame, La Louvre, Champs-Élysées.

Keen to share some of our practised French we were taken aback to hear many of the tourist ready trades were not only excellent in sharing their English with us but many other languages too for the myriad of tourists.  If that is not a kick up the derriere to learn the language sooner, I don't know what will.

After walking many miles and consuming far more caffeine than is usual it was time to head back to Montparnasse.  Thanks to the knowledgeable taxi driver for navigating the rapids of the French road system, otherwise left to our own devices we would still be in Versailles!

Ticketed for a 4pm return to Poitiers, rural France seeped back into our thoughts and within a short space of time manic routes and rues gave way to hectares of uncut maize and perfectly ploughed fields.  By 5.41pm the TGV had delivered us safely to our part of France... less hurried, peaceful and patiently waiting to embrace us back into the less frantic flow of rural France that we have become used to.

It was the return journey on the TGV, seeing those perfectly ploughed fields, the sun's rays stretching as far as it could in the Autumn sky, seeing space before our eyes that we gratefully acknowledged that we love living in rural France. Despite the daily challenges that keep us mentally on our toes, it agrees with us. We like the pace, the defining of the seasons, less people! Living rurally is not for everyone, but we are glad it works for us.

It is also great to know that it takes minimal effort and time to be part of the "joie de vivre" that Paris, or any other City in France for that matter, has to offer and that the French rail system will get us there and back "toute suite"!  

There's nothing quite like Christmas ... Cake

As with all Christmas's for me, the festive season arrives so very quickly.  I spend a lot of time organising and working through to do lists and building new ones, without actually realising that the festive jobs do actually get done and that while it arrives hurriedly I don't have to beat myself up for leaving everything to the last minute.

But a Christmas cake was definitely not on my to do list, and I'm jolly glad it was not.  For I spent a wonderful evening at Chez Tante Mabel Thursday 19th December decorating my own Christmas Cake.

Proprietor and top cake baker, Bev Barker Brown has recently been hosting Christmas cake decorating workshops, which have proved extremely popular.   Accompanied by some fellow LIFT ladies we arrived at the warm and cosy kitchen of Chez Tante Mabel, the smell of Christmas... cakes, mulled wine and mince pies.  Bev talked us through the cakes and the ingredients that we were going to use to decorate our cakes.

What a great way to get in touch with that inner child before Christmas, particularly those with busy lives with children, having a couple of hours out of the hecticness of it all is delightful.  So there we are rolling out sugar icing, cutting out shapes, talking about our Christmases and feeling quite nostalgic.

Halfway through it was time to take a break with a couple of Bev's mince pies and mulled wine ....mmmm  Let me tell you, Bev does not skimp on ingredients, the mulled wine was gorgeous as were her mince pies.

The final adornments were added to our cakes and lovingly wrapped  by Bev so that they could travel well  to our homes.  All in all it was a couple of hours very well spent.

If you have not visited Chez Tante Mabel, then please do save their website details.  Following on from these successful workshops, Bev will be hosting similar workshops for Easter 2014.  These activities along with the treasure trove of delights in her shop next door, will make a great place to escape to,  with or without the children!

Rising Movement Across France: LIFT

Every year thousands of people move to France whether as a permanent expat or holiday home owner.  For those who move permanently  it is a daunting time with many challenges to face and sometimes a little local help is just not quite enough.

There's a little pocket of France, that grows steady in numbers monthly which many particularly ladies congregate to and it's called LIFT.  Not a physical location but a private Facebook group and represents Ladies In France Together  

Women from all walks of life who have moved not only across the Channel but from around the world to settle or experience life in France migrate to this online group for a support for a number of reasons.

If there is a question that needs asking, ask LIFT. If someone is feeling down, let LIFT know.  With a lot of members active and online at any one time there is not one post that would go unanswered, the knowledge and experience collectively between the 1700 strong is amazing. If google were to consider us as a search engine it would be giggle. 

The LIFT oracle is consulted for a number of things ranging from recipes, renovation from carte vitale issues to cars from animals to angry birds, from loneliness to laughter.  Quite frequently lunches are arranged across the country for ladies to meet face to face where many 'cyber' friendships are cemented even further by putting the face to the name.   For many women living in France can be a lonely experience for a number of reasons beyond their control and it is wonderful to see such commaraderie in this way.

The speed at which things get done is incredible in June this year a number of Race for Life walks were arranged within 24 hours; dates were organised, venues sussed out and calendar dates set up on the private group for other ladies to share and attend.   The power of the network is such that you could be living in the south of France in need of a lift to get to the North and you can bet your last euro that the LIFT ladies will get it sorted.

If you are a lady living in France, join the group.  If you have a question that needs answering get a LIFT lady to answer it! 

Mince Pies and Merriment

These are not just any old mince pies, they are not even M&S mince pies, they are my mince pies.  Having lived in France for 18 months now, making your own and baking your own is very much order of the day. Hubby and I have learned to become fiendish foragers and for many months of the year there is much to harvest.... for free.  

Our current rental homes is home to a real fruity collection and this year we had a glut of gorgeous cherries, blackcurrants, redcurrants and gooseberries, not to mention the small vineyard canopy that crowns our heads as we walk down a small gravel pathway from our back door.  We did nothing with the grapes this year, but if there is a fruitful harvest in 2014, we will certainly be doing something with them. 

So back to the mince pies.  I made a small batch in 2012 which were well received by family members and a small circle of friends. Following on from the success of 2012 I set about making a bigger batch of homemade mixture this year.  Using the usual ingredients of mixed currants, raisins and mixed peel and suet I decided to add a dash of my favourite ingredient.... Pineau.  

Pineau for those who are not accustomed to this moreish drink is a delicious mix of brandy and wine, red or white, warm or chilled. It is the apero glue for many a French man or woman and a great favourite of the expat community [it is where I live!].  

So Pineau now has pride of place in my mincemeat mixture along with foraged walnuts that were scavenged on short journeys to and from various destinations.   Walnuts are not cheap in the UK and are not cheap in France either, so a carrier bag of walnuts is a prized possession for me. Particularly this year.  The Spring and Summer of 2013 produced a bounty of fruit but alas, not a good year for the nuts.  The foraged walnuts also have pride of place in my mincemeat mixture.  Most people would set about de-shelling their walnuts with a nutcracker, but I prefer a more cave woman approach.  I have a specific smooth stone for cracking my walnuts and have been using this favourite stone for a couple of years now and the whole process is rather therapeutic.  

With all ingredients ready, it's now time for mincemeat ingredients to meet Pineau.  When I say a dash of Pineau, what I really meant to say was three quarters of a bottle!  All packed into a large plastic container to ferment and fuse for 30 days or more. 

Friday 13th December 2013 I made my first batch of mince pies.  Thirty to start off with and enough mixture left for another 30 or more!  They have been well received and make a great excuse to go and see friends, deliver Christmas cards along with the much awaited mince Pineau pies.  I have talked them up for some time now and I am inwardly pleased that they have lived up to the culinary hoo hah that I have given them.  

It seems that I have set myself a tradition and look forward to bashing the hell out of those walnuts in 2014!