Oh The Chirruping of the Birdies in the Sycamore Trees 31st July

Jean starting to put together that vital piece of equipment - the barbeque

I heard something today that might interest you. Did you know that cigalles only make that endless chirping sound once the temperature exceeds 17 degrees celcius. It must be well over that right now because they are going at it like the clappers. Jean fell about laughing when I said that they made the sound by rubbing their stomachs. OK so I’m not a total expert on French flora and fauna but I will improve.

I have the feeling that when it comes to both flora and fauna, the first thing that the French ask themselves is “can I eat it?” I recently found an old copy of the fascinating book by Maurice Mesegues in which he devotes entire chapters to the consumption of nettles which are apparently good for improving all types of bodily functions. He points out that in fact, the entire countryside is one vast green grocery store and I shall have to learn how to shop there.

It is a well known fact that the French have a huge respect for their livers, and we had only been here for ten days when it occurred to me that Jean not only seemed rather tired much of the time, but he was turning a very pale shade of yellow. His poor liver which for many years had been protected from the onslaught of camembert, brie, fromage du chevre, sausiccon, paté, and butter was going into meltdown.

“Step away from the cheese” I ordered, but I might as well have been talking to the wall, but at least he did walk up the road to the Pharmacy and came back with a large packet of yellow pills. His colour has returned to normal and he is out of bed in the morning and busy sweeping up the overnight leaf fall, so I suppose I shall have to rely on Monsieur Mesegues to treat something else like rising damp or fallen arches.

Another book which will be hopefully arriving soon is my Elizabeth David book of Mediterranean recipes. I used it quite extensively when we were living on the farm in Africa as we were just about self sufficient when it came to meat and vegetables, and I am really looking forward to testing out some of her recipes with all the necessary ingredients on hand. With things like eggplants and artichokes, wild boar and rabbit available on every counter, I intend to lure Jean away from the cheese and back onto the straight and narrow with lapin en croute, pot au feu and bouillabaise. Who am I kidding? A Frenchman without half a baguette and a great wedge of cheese; I don’t think so. I just thank my lucky stars that he wisely gave up drinking about twelve years ago and I don’t have to keep stocking up on pastis and red wine as well.

Speaking of wine, we are in the heart of one of the greatest wine regions in France and wherever we drive, there are the white and red signs indicating the nearest Domaine, and enticing boards which offer degustation or wine tasting. For the time being, I am making do with locally made box wine from the supermarket and I start to see that the trick here is that you keep a nice bottle and a funnel handy, and having filled up the bottle from the box, you put that on the table, and then nip back to the fridge for more supplies when it runs low.

Jean says that the best time to start visiting the wineries is once the harvest is coming in. The whole countryside seems to be holding its breath at present waiting for the ripening to begin. There is a feeling that the pickers are busy sharpening their tools and the mechanics are oiling their tractors and trailers, and in just a few weeks, the vineyards that are somnolently resting in the hot sun will become a hive of industry. Yesterday we were looking at photographs of the vineyards once the autumn colours paint them gold, orange and yellow, and instead of missing out on Fall in the USA, we will be surrounded by a Turner coloured landscape of our own.