I’m say ciao ciao to you for I’m driving up to Paris for a few days. The weather looks promising with sunshine an I hope to do a lot of reading and sketching in my most favorite corner in Paris..le Jardin du Luxembourg. Maybe mon chéri will join me for lunch there where he can play a game of chess, while I cut up the cheese and baguette…
I leave you with one of my many images of L’eiffel...the little game I play with the Eiffel tower…always a salut on arrival and always a salut on leaving.
And just to keep you busy this week…one of my favorite movies -la vie à la campagne film, because that is where I will always come back to; la campagne.
..Le passager d’été..
We have been cheated a bit out of spring and summer here in France this year, but we have had our week or two of beautiful, perfect hot weather! When looking back, it was all good, however short. I am lucky enough to have my birthday in summer and we had the most beautiful evening, spent around our bistro table with friends and family. It was special.
..birthday around a bistro table..
..and around the fire, every evening..
..the sound of running water, every day..
..fruit and fruit and fruit..
..alcohol free mojito, especially for me..
..always an apéro with our glass of wine, in this case stuffed cherry tomatoes with ricotta and herbs..
..tomatoes from the potager for dinner..
As far as automne goes..the leaves haven’t coloured yet and the days are still sunny and warm, with slight winds, clouds are rolling by fast in the blue skies and the waters of the streams are still, awaiting the first rainfalls.
But before I start sounding like Thursday’s weatherman..
Welcome back to Myfrenchkitchen! I’ve had a busy summer and September was spent doing only art every day, which I thoroughly enjoyed. I posted my art when I had time and if you are interested you can see some posts on Africantapestry. It was a great month for me , trying different methods and mediums, searching for new directions. I did a lot of plein air painting, just practiced techniques in the evenings, making terrible messes( on the canvas and my clothes!), but I enjoyed every minute!
..three houses, oil on linen..
“A big thank you to everybody who supported me and especially Monique, who was there with me EVERY day, in spite of her busy schedule. Your encouragement and support throughout the month…I can’t express how much that meant to me! Please drop in at La table de Nana and catch up on her beautiful posts of this past summer…just an inspiring place to visit!! When I am down, I visit Monique at La table de Nana..”
..Gubi and the geese, Aglaé and Sidonie..
..Gaitchi, Gubi and her fillette Dumêla..
So. With these images of our sweet animals , I say goodbye! to summer and its fun and hi there! to fall and its splendour. Even on my Pinterest page, I have gone “autumn”, so inspired by the decorating for fall, the colour of the sunsets, the champignons, apples and acorns, the deep and atmospheric colour of nature just waiting to explode.
..spider webs on an early September morning..
à trés bientôt
In midsummer, when the sun is blazing hot and the cigales are singing away, we don’t have much desire for eating, except for indulging in ice cream. A cold simmer peach soup is perfect for those days and brings a bit of welcome change to the ice cream menu.
- Bring to the boil 1 liter of water with 1 vanilla pod, 200 g sugar and the rind of 1 lemon. Remove from the heat, add a handful of fresh mint leaves and set aside to cool.
- Peel and cut 6 peaches of your choice into slices.
- Add to the warm syrup and leave to cool down completely before storing in the fridge for about 4 hours to infuse.
- Serve cold in glasses or bowls and add a handful of fresh red berries of your choice to the soup(optional).
- Decorate with fresh mint leaves and serve with a dollop of vanilla ice cream.
Serves 6 people.
Pincée de fleur de sel:
- I used a mixture of white and yellow peaches.
- Macerate the berries with some sugar before adding to the soup, since they may be too sour for the soup.
- Add the berries on a little kebab/cocktail stick and stick into the soup, to eat separately.
- Leave the berries if so desired.
- Replace the mint with lemon verbena for something different.
- Serve in frozen glasses for an icy effect.
The signature of Provence is its white limestone..in the countryside, the hills, in the built walls, the drywalls, the houses, the pavings , the flowerbeds, the villages… Some of them new and some weathered handsomely by the mistral and rains of centuries.
I love an atmospheric window..
Clearly seen in this image below, is the different types of stone used, maybe at different times by different craftsmen.
Just look at that stone…beautiful non?..
A stone staircase between these beautiful stone walls, going up and up and up…
A flowerbed by a front door, typical in the small villages with no gardens..
Lovely shutters and vigne vierge creeper..
Sedum growing on the rooftiles..totally content in the heat, like me…
Holly hocks…an old world flower and one of my favorites..
Gay colour in an ochre coloured flower container..
Bonnieux is known for its brocantes..
..which overlooks the valley..
Lavenders on the windowsill..
So, with these images it is back to reality here at Coin Perdu, where summer is in full swing..and I don’t want it to end!
à la prochaine
When asked which is her favorite princess in a fairytale, Marinell always says Belle, from Beauty and the beast. On 15 September she really was Belle and she had her handsome blue eyed prince and her castle..and they danced in the sunset on “La vie en rose”, their own fairytale.
..Chateau du Doux..
(photo: Lisa Allen photography Toulouse)
..on the staircase in the chateau..
(photo: Lisa Allen photography Toulouse)
..in the library of the chateau..
(photo: Lisa Allen photography Toulouse)
Both the bride and groom wanted a traditional wedding, from the word go. The challenge was to incorporate the traditions of three different cultures. As time passed and planning was done step by step(mostly by themselves), it all naturally fell into place. The finished result was a good and fun mix of 3 cultures and even the hands that helped stretched over continents; friends and family from SA to Australia, friends and family from the UK and of courseall those good friends from France. Everyboldy pitched in happily… preparing salds for the Friday evening’s barbecue, roaming the forest for ferns and moss and branches, loading and unloading tables and chairs and pots and urns, stripping leaves from ferns for confetti, arranging flowers, setting tables, folding napkins, sweeping floors, making coffees, taxying people from the airport…and finally we all sat down together for dinner in a candle lit room, surrounded by happy chat and laughter. This is exactly how I wanted their day to end. Happy.
..flowers in the church of Le Pescher..
..”supposed” to be singing..
..confetti made of Ferns we picked in our forest at Coin Perdu and many hands helped strip the leaves..
..Now where are you off to..?
..Resting on the bridge after walking with everybody through the little village of Le Pescher..
Like every mother, I was highly excited about this wedding of our first daughter.And like every mother, a little afraid too: of the costs, of not staying out of it( very hard!), of not being able to help them live their dream, of not being able to make the day only joyous and happy.To keep the costs down we did everything ourselves and worked quite hard, I did indeed succeed in staying out of it(sometimes), and it was a beautiful joyous and happy day on which they truly lived their dream by saying “I do”
..Striped paper straws for old fashioned coke bottles, mailbox for letters, signing the guestbook, pouring oil into torches, lanterns and chandelles..
..Flowers, urns and sitting corners in the garden..
Pampilles(crystals), hanging from tree branches – to find your seat..
..some fun in the garden..
(photo: Lisa Allen photography Toulouse)
..A first dance to Edith Piaf’s “La vie en rose”..
..Two pretty smiles..
(photo: W van Wyk)
..the dining room is ready..
..table decorations: moss and ferns and foliage from our forest at Coin Perdu; hydrangeas and grey foliage from the garden with accents of chardon and Chrysanthemum and camomiles among lanterns and some silver for sparkle.
..Entering for dinner..
(photo: Lisa Allen photography Toulouse)
..Bon appetit et bonne nuit!..
***Photos: All images Ronelle van Wyk, unless otherwise stated.
***I have just recently started a Facebook page, which I call Café des artistes. It is an extension of my three blogs and on it I do exactly what one would do in a café around coffee..talk about art and life and food and photography..if you are interested in some of these short snippets, you can find my link in the sidebar to join. You will also find more photos of the wedding on my facebook page..as always, Ronelle
I have been like these butterflies the last few weeks…fluttering left, right and center! Our eldest daughter’s wedding is a week from today and I’m in top gear, working to get everything done. Truth be told, up until now most of the organizing had been done by the two themselves. My work only really started these last few weeks and being true to my very bad self, I left everything until the very last minute, which now means a mean scuffling of feet to be on top of things. But I’m almost there…on top of things!
..Inachis Io(Paon du jour) Peacock butterfly..
Every now and then I get distracted by my animals or the garden…the flowers, the vegetables and my potager, a coffee…before finding my rhythm again to move along with wedding stuff. One such a pleasant distraction was the seductive butterflies in my summer garden.
.. le petit nacré (Issoria lathonia) ..
..Iphiclides podalirius – scarse swallowtail (le flambé)..
..la belle dame (Vanessa cardui)..
..(papillons satyrinae (satyre)..
..Colias alfacariensis (Fluoré)..
A last sip of cool and calm Provencal Rosé at sunset with mon chéri before friend and family start arriving from tomorrow onfor the wedding. And so with these images of my summer butterflies here at Coin Perdu and two cold glasses of Rosé, I leave you until I resurface after the wedding!
…kayaking down the Dordogne..
Apparently there has been some changes on WordPress concerning their comments and now I have problems whereas I never before had ANY problems! All comments are now asked to sign in with a WordPress account or Facebook or Twitter or Gravar accounts to be able to comment!I apologize for this ridiculous problem. I have no solution at the moment. All I can suggest, is that you click the LIKE button if you are unable to leave a comment, or send me an email to rvanwykatfreedotfr. Hopefully WordPress will realize that this change is a huge mistake! I have always boasted with WordPress being a GREAT host, I even changed from Blogger a few years back and never regretted one minute. I am not a whiner/ranter, but at the moment I am not a happy camper…
I would like to know how severe this problem is…if you have a moment to spare, please leave me a comment…just say “test without WP” so I can know that you were able to comment without a WordPress account. If not possible, please send me an email to rvanwykatfreedotfr. Thank you and pleeaase don’t leave me…I SO love all your little stories, whether in an email reply or comment or Facebook/Twitter…I always love it!
I’m indulging in a few of my older images, which will hopefully lift my spirit and I hope you enjoy!
..door to atelier..
..rusty milk can..
..ray of light..
I drive past Nonard’s cemetery almost every day. Never have I stopped and entered it. Never had the desire to. I never go to a funeral, so why would I want to go to a cemetry? But today I stopped at Nonard’s cemetery and pushed open the wrought iron gate…..oh dear, do I see some frowns out there??
PS: I made a riz au lait to accompany this post, because I thought an old traditional dish like rice pudding would go well with the traditional cemetery and add a little bit of sweetness to an otherwise grim subject. But then my chickens were so cute today, the sun was so wonderful, the cats so playful that I forgot about the rice inside on the stove and burnt it to oblivion! So…only cemetery and no pudding..
… three stones, one family…
Les cimetiéres in France are very different to those I grew up with…they are almost..pretty? I love a cross…not for religious reasons, just because, and in the French cimetiére there is no shortage of spectacular crosses. But let me not talk too much, I might just say inappropriate things, since I do sometimes have a wicked mind.
…through the open gate…
So, while walking through Nonard’s cimetiére , I heard all the stories being whispered around me…people who once were fathers and mothers, sons, grandchildren, sisters…If there is one place you can sit and be surrounded by stories, it is the cemetery. I thought of my own story, way back, when my father died and I was a young and vulnerable teenager of fifteen.
I can remember my mother’s black dress she wore for the funeral and for weeks after. I remember her beautiful brooches she always wore with her dresses. A scarf. Black shoes. I always thought she looked very elegant in black with her black hair, dark eyes and olive skin. I have no idea what I wore. After that day, it became custom for my mother and I to visit the cemetery every Sunday afternoon with a bottle of water, a cloth and a bunch of flowers. Our sweet, sweet neighbour across the road always came by the morning with flowers she picked from her garden, knowing our ritual by heart. On arrival, my mother walked around the stone, inspected it and and found fault here with the stone that chipped, and there with marble that moved…it is after all a thing that stands on ground that move? I think that was her way of just controlling her emotions. My task was always to empty the dry flowers, fill the vase with fresh ones, wipe the dust from the marble and then I joined my mother, where she just stared at my father’s name. I stared too. In silence. We continued that ritual for years, every Sunday afternoon, until I left home to university.
..to my grandpa, to my mother, to my father, to our friend, to my cousin, with sorrow,..
…age old plaques, broken, worn, sad…
I have no doubt that it is one of the reasons why I hate a Sunday and why I feel depressed for a whole Sunday, especially the afternoon. But I suppose there is no difference between Sunday rituals at the cemetery; flowers, a cloth, fresh water, staring. Wondering. And remembering. A cemetery has its stories. Touching. All the same, yet so different.
…a private family…
…two families resting together – what would their story be?..
..and finally, to lift the dark veil a bit and to reveal the wicked side of my character – 2 statues I would love to have in my garden and 4 vases for my home!…
…and dare I bring in a little humor with the abandoned stone reminding me of the Titanic (bottom left), and a Jesus about to fall out of his vase any minute(bottom right)? Of course I can! In the saddest moments lies the biggest humor…that is what keeps us going. In fact, there is very little difference between laughing and crying…?
Pinch of salt:
Inspiration: 2 star chef Jean Sulpice: His restaurant, Oxalys is the highest in Europe, at 2 300 m above sea level where he serves food of the highest quality and ingenuity. What inspires me is his devotion to his passions: his work, his family and his mountains. He watches the weather every day from his window high up in Val Thorens to see how his clientele will turn out. He rises every morning at dawn for his exercises in the mountains with his skies in winter and hiking in summer. He takes his son to preschool and serves lunch to the school: healthy vegetable soups and delicious chocolate mousse, which leave the kiddies with broad chocolate covered smiles! A young man full of joie de vivre and a vivid passion for what he loves!
Rest in peace until next time
..from your wicked, Nonard cemetry intruder..
Some old silver finds from brocantes which I put together and use for coffee and tea…(one of those small trophies is mine, which I received for athletics years ago…you didn’t know that!)
..my tiny athletics trophy for a Hellebore flower..
…café crème teaspoons in a sugar bowl…
…demi tasse teaspoons in a trophy…
…coffee things in old brocante silver…
from my coffee corner!
This is a very popular recipe from “Winning recipes from Huisgenoot wenresepte” a great south African recipe book. I can’t imagine a south African household without this recipe. I make it only at end of the year as a dip with some warm cocktail sausages or some shaved green beans, since it is a bit too sweet for me to use with a meal. It is very quick and easy and ideal for that last minute “bring something to eat along”. Even the French, who guard their mustard with sacré dignité, stumble over their principles for more than one dip into the sweet mustard bowl! Hope you enjoy it.
- Be sure to use white vinegar, or else the mustard sauce will be coloured an unappetizing dark colour.
- Serve as a dip with warm cocktail sausages, or cold slices of meat or add to sliced green beans as an accompaniment.
…and some last days of 2011
Before I get into the stream of the new year’s living…I greet you with a last view on the end of the 2011. (Don’t worry, this will be the last post about ME!!)
I promise the next posts will not be about me but be more exciting for you all…some book researches, some give-aways, some restaurant reviews, some courses, some kitchen stories, some tips and tools, some new foods on the market, some how-to’s, some travel stories around food, some visits to French homes, some visits to boulangeries and bucheries and chocolateries…and more!
But for now…saying goodbye to 2011 with images of time spent STILL at coin Perdu..
..gathering moss for our Christmas eve dinner with my daughter’s mate, Sponge Bob tagging along…
..some tête de moine cheese..?
…and enjoying some champagne and oysters on our walks in the forest..
..oysters with a mango vinaigrette..
..a set table for Christmas eve- resembling our forest with its owls and birds and wild heather, moss..
..a courgette and smoked espuma as amuse bouche for Christmas eve..
..christmas day table resmebled the stream running through our forest, with pebbles, the ever present owls, some winter snow, ice crystals hanging from branches, birds and the silver stream with the moonlight reflecting by means of tiny tealights and candles..
…grey moss and stars surrounding the moon and stream and pebbles…can you hear the water trickling..?
…and Sponge Bob brought along some sparkles for our starter of scallops with a parsley sauce and chanterelles mushrooms…!
..reveling in the colours and moons of Jupiter..
..a winter ascending moon and evening star at twilight(Venus)..
..and of course sun sleeping…!
..lots of riding..
..early morning training..
..isn’t this beautiful…man and his horse..?
..moving as one..
May we all ride into this new year as one with our dreams and ideals, our goals, our principles, beliefs and hopes..
The past year has been rather on the quiet side…in terms of my presence here. I hope to change it in the new year, pump some new life into Myfrenchkitchen, add some new and exciting experiences, adventures and yes, why not…recipes!
..Roasted rack of pork on hay and some marrow..
In the meantime I am at Coin Perdu again , have been here for the past few months, after only a quick return to Montlouis. I am staying in the barn with the cats and chickens and horses. Of course not all us us together in the barn, but almost. It will be the one and only winter we’ll spend in the barn, as our house will be finished next winter, if all goes well. For that reason, I wanted to take a kind of sabbatical here in the barn for the winter. My sweet husband, who is always eager to take on an adventure, was quick to help me close up the barn…putting up some temporary insulation in the up to now open roof. He built me glass doors to allow more light into the otherwise dark barn and moved the heavy wooden doors so they serve as shutters on the outside of the glass doors.. He installed a wonderful Godin wood burning fireplace andfixed the wood burning stove on the opposite side of the barn. This is where we do our cooking and even baking in the oven. It is my first experience with a wood burning oven and since I don’t havean oven thermometre, it all comes down to testing the heat with my hand..slow counting….1 is still too cold, good for slowly drying out biscotti….5 is about really hot and good for baking some chocolat fondant desert, which I usually bake in my fancy oven in Montlouis at 200 degrees C.
..putting in glass doors, insulation..
…baking in a wooden stove oven…
Hartman also closed up the very wide openings in the plank floor, where one can see through to the cattle stables down below and where some mighty cold air bellows upwards into the barn. Some carpets picked up at the brocante and a chandelier here and there for a bit of whimsy glamour. Et voila, a barn for the winter! There are still some openings here and there, but a little suffering is good too…it provides fresh air!
..some glamour in a barn…
The worst part of this whole experience is when nature calls and in this case it is literally a call of nature…our temporary toilette is outside, on the Eastern side of the house, while the barn is on the western side of the house. So I literally have to do some cross country to answer nature’s call! First it entails putting on boots to scramble through the mud, then a jacket to keep me a little dry at least and at night…a torch…to see what I’m doing in the mud…and elsewhere, remembering that the toilette has no light. To lighten you aghastness at this experience, it is a modern working toilette, flushing, clean and nice smelling, with a door, no flies or bees or spiders, well maybe some tiny harmless spiders, looking for a little protection from the rain…
…the chemin to the stable and…toilette…
…with wet and muddy clothes……
For most of the time, I am alone here, except on weekends when Hartman join me, or when the children come visit for the weekend. I spend my time painting and doing art, experimenting and playing with mediums and techniques. a typical day would be…waking up warm and snug in a warm bed, stepping first toe out into the cold, cowardly jumping back, finding courage to lift my whole body from the warmth. dashing out, I run for a hot shower, dressing with the speed of lightning. Put on coffee machine. Put on my boots and all, open the shutter doors to let in the day light. Run for nature’s call. Open up the chickens who follow me with moans of happiness knowing where we are going, yoghurt and delicacies are awaiting them. Food for the cats. Talking and chatting to all. Grabbing 4 apples and pocket knife. Off to the stables, all the while whistling to call Gaitchi and Gubi form the fields. Spooning some molasse covered horse muesli into their bowls, I hear the rumbling of the earth as they approach the stables, eager to get to their buckets. We talk ad snuggle, brush and talk. Back to the barn where the freshly brewed coffee makes the trip through the mud and rain all worth it. Two slices of toast made on the wood burning stove, a up of coffee and seating myself by the computer to check mail and listen to morning radio. And then off to work. Drawing, painting, maybe some photography in the countryside. Writing. A walk in the fields with my camera and horses. Sketching in the countryside. A drive to the town of Brive to relieve a bit of cabin fever. Feeding the horses again, closing up the chickens, keeping the fire going in the Godin and stove, dinner, a nice adventure movie, reading, more writing, bed.
..snug inside the barn wit paints…
… and books…
…and a warm bed…
..and everything else I need…
…and my friend…Madame Pompadour…
Does it all sound romantic and story book like? Perhaps. But it isn’t always moonlight and roses. My jeans are never clean, always full of mud. I don’t have a dryer and with the constant rain, I can’t get my clothes dry. If I don’t see to the stove and fireplace, I don’t have any heating. the wood is heavy to carry from the other barn. Cleaning the stove and fireplace every morning isn’t fun. After a while, sledding in the mud isn’t funny any more. I don’t have my “stuff” with me…of course can’t fit a whole home into a barn. even though we have put up insulation, I have no ceiling and dust still sifts down. I don’t have a bath in which I can soak my sometimes cold body, only a home made shower in a sinktub. BUT! I have warm running water. I sleep warm. My husband arrives every Friday evening. My children visit. I have my animals that I love around me. In fact I have everything I need.
…Gaitchi et Gubi…
…Tartelette, Mimolette, Ciboulette et Camembert…
…Tokala et Ayiani…
This winter time in the barn makes me realize how we take life for granted. How we actually have too much of everything. Our homes are overheated. Our kitchens are over equipped. Our closets are luxuriously full. A bit of struggle can do us all good. It can make us realize that life is actually a gift.
May you have a wonderful festive season and may you see life as it is meant to be. A precious gift.
I’ve been back from Provence for some time, but very busy at my gallery(which I’ll talk about in a next post).
I’ve suddenly come down with a terrible gastro and I’ve been like a limp fish the last two days. but I need to get up an just move a little, so I thought it good to recall some moments from my painting trip.
I can’t face food at the moment, but I can show you the lovely desserts we had at Le vieux Four, in Crillon le Brave.
…French cheesecake with red berry coulis…
…red fruit sorbets…
More photos can be seen here in my gallery, Beauty of la France and Paintings can be found on Africantapestry…posts More paintings from Provence, Paintings from Provence and Two oil paintings and a gouache.
Our home away from home…the lovely home of artist, Julian Merrow Smith from Postcard from Provence.
…the view on Mont Ventoux from my room…
...early mornings in pj’s around painting, coffee and croissants…
…Sarah’s early morning oil painting in progress…
…Robyn’s watercolor in progress…
..a gathering of Provenceaux in Bédoin…
…when the market is quiet…
…The closest I got to lavender…
…au revoir et à bientôt!…
Ratatouille is such a versatile dish – there are more ways than can be counted to do it nowadays and everyone swears by his/her way. The traditional way takes takes far too long(for me in any case!) and the vegetables are too soft and juicy to my taste. So I do it the quicker and crunchier way and so far, nobody has complained…on the contrary…everybody finds it fresh and enjoys the crunchiness still present and the appearance pleasant. It is a perfect little vegetable starter for the festive meals that await us!
La ratatouille est un plat assez commun et pourtant, chacun fait sa ratatouille a sa façon. La façon traditionnelle veut que ce soit cuit longtemps, comme tout les ragout. Pour ma part, je trouve ça pénible! Et de toute façon, je préfère mes légumes toujours plus croquants avec ces couleurs encore vive! Donc, je fais ma ratatouille vite et croquante et personne ne s’en plaint. Au contraire! Tout le monde la trouve très bonne!Voilà une bonne petite entrée aux légumes pour les fêtes qui nous approchent.
- Ratatouille can be used as a startert or an amuse bouche or as a side accompanying chicken, fish or red meat. If it is to accompany a meat dish, cut the dice a little bigger…perhaps 6×6 mm.
- Don’t overcook, so the texture can still be crunchy, which makes it different from the traditional ratatouille which is simmered for a longer time to have the vegetables really tender with more sauce than I have here.
- Add some garlic and provencal herbs to the ratatouille like thyme, marjoram, oreganum.
- It can be served warm or at room temperature.
- Serve with freshly shredded basil over the top for a nice fresh appearance.
- Serve on a canape(small slice of bread) for an amuse bouche, or serve in a little bowl or glass and toast some brioches to serve with it.
- If you want more special flavour to your ratatouille, add some chilies and spices to give it a kick.
- Add some langoustine, cut in chunks or mussels, oysters or shrimp to your rataouille along with chervil or dill.
..and hand me the scissors!..
I don’t have any fond feelings aboutf scissors, in fact, I pretty much associate them with pain and blood, of which I have first hand experience.
But then again, if I think of life without them..?
I had a pretty little old one from my mother which I kept in my handbag and forgot to take out before we had to board at the airport. I still have another one left, a very ancient model, frequently used by her and even though it lacks performance, its beauty stays unsurpassed. No psychedelic colored plastic in sight and the handle shows signs of hard use and yes, the blade is full of rust spots, but the lines are sleek and graceful and the grip allows for good comfort. Just a simple but beautiful, old pair of scissors from my childhood, one that came from my mother’s sewing kit and is now not so much a utility as a connection to the past.
And let’s not forget the garden scissors…those very important pruning tools and the small scissors for bonsai that I use to cut string for tying and staking in the garden. Do you keep your garden scissors clean and oiled? Not? shame on you!! the same goes for cutting flowers for the house…clean them, oil them and they will serve you a lifetime.
It seems I can actually conjure up some images of pleasure and so maybe I do have fond memories of scissors after all….
…à la prochaine!..
This post was meant for the weekend on last Friday, but unfortunately I couldn’t get around to posting. Now I’m putting it up for this week…
Wishing you a good, productive and satisfying week…
Ce billet était fait pour le weekend dernier, mais ce n’était pas possible, alors maintenant…je vous souhaite une bonne semaine productive et satisfaisante…
…with some flowers somewhere in the house(une fleur ou deux dans la maison)…
…and a good movie fitted in somewhere(un bon film)…
…and don’t forget dessert(et surtout, n’oubliez pas le dessert)!..
…à la prochaine..
The Charentaise melon is coming in, sweet and bright. Treat yourself to one half, cut up, drizzled with maybe some caramel syrup and sprinkle with lavender, put on the grill, your loving husband so tenderly lit up for your plump fruit and once again…as always here on Myfrenchkitchen….indulge with a spoon and shameless delight!
VF: Le melon Charentaise arrive sur les marchés, radieux et douce. Pourquoi pas se régaler avec peut-être un sirop de caramel, quelque fleurs de lavande et puis on demande à notre amour d’allumer un feu et de griller ce petit melon coupé en deux tendrement, jusqu’a ce qu’il se caramelise. Et comme toujours ici à Myfrenchkitchen, on se régale scandaleusement!
- Cut a melon in half, scoop out the seeds and turn upside down on the grill. Grill over medium coals until nicely caramelized.
- Turn over and pour in some sauce of your choice…I used maple syrup.
- Leave over warm colas for a while to get soft and have the syrup infuse the melon.
- Add the chopped rosemary and leave another few minutes.
- Remove to pretty plates, serve with a dollop of cream or ice cream and enjoy warm.
- I used maple syrup…sue also honey, or a proper caramel sauce.
- Enjoy while still warm.
- It can also be grilled in the oven, or inside grill.
- Serve with ice cream, corresponding with your flavour… a vanilla ice cream with caramel sauce, or lavender ice cream with lavender petals, or mint ice cream with chopped fresh mint.
- For a less sweeter version, use cream or crème frâiche.
I have someone dear in my life who is experiencing terrible pain at the moment. When the rain passed this morning and the world glittered under the Correze sun, I thought of her and her courageous words: “I want to appreciate everything even more than before“, which is hardly possible, since she already appreciates life with every fiber of her being. But her words stick to me as I drive along the road here in Puy d’Arnac, forcing me to look at every nook and appreciate the obvious beauty all around.
J’ai une chère ami qui endure beaucoup de douleur en ce moment. Ce matin, j’ai parcouru la route de Puy d’arnac avec les mots courageux de mon ami resonnants dans ma tête: “Je désire apprecier toutes les choses plus qu’avant”.. Je peux témoigner qu’elle le fait déja. Mais cette phrase m’interpelle toujours. Elle me force à regarder et observer chaque petit coin et apprécier la beauté abondante qui m’entoure.
May her pain and the pain of all those who experience whatever hurt at this moment, subside, so the beauty can become alive again. And may we, who have less pain, appreciate everything even more than before.
Je veux bien que tout sa douleur et même les douleurs des autres, peu importe la douleur, s’efface, pour que la beauté vive encore. En plus, il faut que nous, qui sommes épargnés de la souffrance, tentions aussi d’apprécier toutes les choses plus qu’avant.
…les roses rouges pour l’amour…
Now is the time for exuberant roses and Puy d’Arnac isn’t shy to show off her splendor. All the way down the hill, the roses drape themselves around the crosses which can be found on every corner of a crossroad, against old walls and staircases, in doorways…where there is a nook , there is a rose. And where there is a rose there is beauty.
…la grande portail…
…les roses roses et rouges et une abeille…
…un croix au carrefour…
…deux chaises autour d’une rose…
…la route monte a Puy d’Arnac…
… les vieux murs habillés par des roses delicates…
…la rose blanche et l’immatriculation…
Have a lovely weekend and remember to appreciate the obvious beauty around us and look in closer to find the less obvious.
…à la prochaine…
I love Montlouis and our house here by the Loire. I love the beautiful town of Tours, a mini Paris with its incredible architecture. I love the Loire with its wild unpredictability.
…la loire et ses oiseaux…
But my love lies even deeper at Coin Perdu, where the sunsets and clear stars keep me outdoors early until late… Where I love the roaming cattle with their undisturbed manner, the bells clinging even somewhere at night. Where I love the buses roaming the skies, where I love listening to the the complaints of the owls in the dark of night, crying their dissatisfaction with us taking their barn…I’ve said all these things before. I will say it many more times. They are important things in my life; the simplicity and honesty of the country side, where life isn’t always easy, but where the comfort lies in knowing and acknowledging it. There aren’t short cuts in honesty, no shifting of boundaries. There is no playing around with honesty. Taking on a day can’t be played around with…animals can’t wait for their food, hay will be wet tomorrow if not cut today, the birth of a new calf cares not for convenience, rain boots wait by the door for a good reason…nature dictates and man dances. It gives life its equilibrium. Keeps man humble, with his ear to the ground, his instinct awake. It keeps him alive. It gives him life.
I am looking forward to when we can get started on our restoration again and return to our life in the barn which is temporary home until the house is finished. Read and see more on Coin Perdu, a mountain home, about our country life in Correze.
So, while I am waiting for March and spring to break through so we can pack and take off to Coin Perdu for the spring and summer months to resume working and restoring our mountain home, I have last year’s photos and many memories to keep me going these next two months.
But still, I can’t wait to…
…enjoying evening barbeques…
…enjoying breath taking sunsets…
…delighting in simple, delicious food…
…go for long walks…
…revel in rediscovering nature and animal life…
…paint, paint and paint…
…visiting with angelina et agnes…et billy-jean…
…fiddle in our barn kitchen…
September is the peak of the tomato season in Europe. At the chateau de la Bourdaisiere, where le festival de la tomate is held every year, tomatoes are found that is hardly ever seen on the street with names as cute and funny and original as you can get them; bloody butcher, daxacan jewel, burrackers’ favorite, little monk, black zebra, black prince, banana legs….
…chateau de la bourdaisiére à Montlouis sur Loire…
This sunny weekend in September had everybody out and about, dogs with their owners, mothers with daughters, grandparents, babies, toddlers, fathers carrying tired litle feet on their necks, tired pets carried in backpacks, photographers, writers, dreamers, painters. Le festival de tomate is an occasion to revel in the colours of the September garden. Having just entered la rentreé, where everybody is back to school and work, la festival de tomate provided that last occasion for us to soak up the warmth of the mellow September sun. A last outing before we slowly but surely creep into winter disguise and start our hybernation cycle with our red wines in front of the fireplace.
…walking – but not in the beds, please!…
…children, dogs..backpacks, sunglasses…
The late summer colours of the September garden, already whisper of autumn with reds and yellows, dark purples, greens and oranges, burgundies. The herb gardens are full, the basils are setting seeds, the fennels are standing high and whispy. Pumkins abound in their plump autumn attires and burgundy cock’s combs take the lead to yet another bed, another colour, another discovery, another feast for the eye. Lavenders still stand high and full with flavours whifting through the air.
…reds, oranges, purple, green, yellows…
No festival can be really successful without eat and drink, with Le festival de tomate no exsception. From traditionally baked breads to confitures, to jus de tomates, freshly squeezed, to small tomato appetizers, a variety of fleur de sels, to contemporary creations from l’ecole de la cuisine and last but not least in the eyes of la population Francaise – lunch at set tables under la grande tente marquise – booking essential!
Even when experiencing this year after year, it is always fun. Maybe because it is tradition. Maybe because of the ambiance. Maybe because everybody does it. Maybe because we meet friends there. Maybe because the days are so beautiful. Maybe because…well, maybe just because.
… à l’année prochaine!…