another post today (Sunday)

I'm not absolutely certain about this, but what I think I DIDN'T post earlier today was a discussion of my hopeless attempt to purchase (a) potting soil so I can plant the begonias I bought in the planters, (b) a file to sharpen Phil's clipper thing for branches, and (c) some wine at the place down the road where you use a gasoline-line pump thing to fill up your water bottle with the local plonk for next to nothing... The next time he tries to bully me into going searching for such stuff in France on a Sunday afternoon, I WILL REBEL. NOTHING, and I mean NOTHING, is open on a Sunday afternoon in rural France, or in the cities, for that matter. I think it has NOTHING to do with religion; it's just the way they have always done things. Sunday dinner is a 7 hour affair that begins about 1:00 p.m., and involves all the family and extended family, and NOTHING is going to interfere.

Plus I got lost in Bergerac. I did finally find where I was trying to go to, but it did no good; everything was closed. I wasted an hour and a half of my life trying to buy potting soil in Bergerac...and I have no idea where I was when I got lost; I was just suddenly not in Bergerac, was out in the country, turned around and went back to the center of town, and eventually found the road I wanted to be on. It was a seriously wasted afternoon...but we had a "salad" of beets (you buy them cooked over here, not sure why, but hey...), celery, thinly sliced red onions (not many), thinly sliced fresh fennel, served with this WONDERFUL aioli you can get in a jar. Along with a (black) wine from Cahors, tuna steaks from the market with herbes de Provence on them, cooked rather quickly in EVOO and butter, (no salt or pepper, put that on when you eat it...), bread. Not bad for about 10 minutes' work. I can't believe how good the aioli is. I have made the stuff from scratch, and I'm not sure it's as good as this stuff I bought in the supermarket...

Tomorrow Phil has his French lesson from Nathalie somebody. I don't go; for awhile we both went, but he kept deferring to me, and while I could certainly benefit from French lessons, I must suggest that he needs them more, and gets little benefit when he gets me to answer all her questions. Plus, at this stage in my life, I don't much care; I seem to be able to function over here okay with the French I already know.

Oh, I also bought 10 of the things called "canelles", which are funny looking pastries that are sort of unique to this area (esp. Bordeaux). They are sort of a cross between a muffin and a sweet yeasty pastry, cooked in a special pan that has been used for decades and is so coated with butter and sugar that there's this crusty exterior...I have a recipe in a book from Bordeaux, but have never tried to make them...

And THEN there were the roulades, the "wheels" of duck breast (these were shrink wrapped and in a market stall) complete with the fat and skin of the duck, tied around a cylindrical piece of foie gras. I didn't buy them, but I suspect I will the next time I see them. Sort of the ultimate decadence, n'est-ce pas? I was salivating over them and some English woman asked me what they were. I told her, suggested that one might as well slit open the veins and just plaster the plaque or whatever they call it to the insides...They were expensive, too, but jeez.....that's gotta be wonderful, cooked in duck fat (not much, but what else?), served with sauteed potatoes, green salad, red wine....

Maybe I'll go back to Issigeac next Sunday; I haven't yet seen these things anywhere else...

Happy Father's Day, not that I have a father to tell it to...

Lillie