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“You live in a charming village…where the inhabitants respect their surroundings perfectly”

31 Aug Justy dans la voiture

This is what a passer-by said to us last night in perfect French, (then perfect English), as we sat on our porch preparing the evening meal entirely from our potager garden (bar the essential ingredient of Thai Curry paste). This was such an enchanting comment we decided to head our long overdue blog post with it. We are happily ensconced in Le Barry in Mas Cabardes, and have been delighting in a Summer adventure complete with a heatwave comparable to Wagga Wagga weather, two dramatic storms (l’orages), wild  boar visiting our garden for a midnight feast of figs and meeting our delightful neighbours and residents of the Montagne Noire. Progress on the restoration is proceeding apace, with us celebrating the flow of hot water from our solar panels, and the laying of under floor heating on the lower floor. Justy as you can see here broke the ice by turning on the l’eau chaud for the first time in years.

Justy turning on the heat

Carol, Jeanot and Justy have been furiously barrowing cement as the bathroom takes shape and we plot the position of the appliances. Tiles are poised ready to be laid and the hardware catalogues are being scrutinised….decisions, decisions….

Jeanot, master builder extraordinaire at work

Justy plotting the kitchen layout

As well as the building activity, the other favourite pastime has been harvesting the booty from the garden to share with all and sundry. The following sequence of pictures tells the story of last night’s meal which attracted such a flattering compliment from the French passer-by. Recipe: French inspired Vegetable curry. Ingredients: Swiss chard, basil, potatoes, tomatoes (4 varieties), courgettes, aubergines, mint, French beans, carrots, green pepper and the odd dab of Thai Curry paste and of course some vin blanc.

Garden booty

Le chef

Cooking on our camp stove

Voila!

Other news, Justy’s birthday was cause for party decorations and a decadent cake made by Carol. As Justy has reached such an age, she has been driving around the countryside as if on a Rolls Royce rally, doing a very good imitation of Toad of Toad Hall. So will finish this post with some pictures of inhabitants and their repectful respective perfect surroundings, and sign off for now from Summer in the Montagne Noire,

M and J

XX

Carol and Justy (with chocolate lipstick)

Justy’s birthday bonanza!

Justy dans la voiture

Justy (a.k.a. Toady) dans la voiture

 

Picnic at La Pradelle

‘Our Village’ Mas Cabardes with Summer potagers

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Greedy femmes en France

10 May

As M is tucking in to yet another little cheese we are sitting down with 2 days left of this trip, to write our first live blog from France. We are about  to report our progress to date:

Morning visits to l’epicurie de Mas (the village shop).

Croissants, pain au chocolat and fromage (lots and lots of fromage). Fat strawberries.

Several all-day lunches at Carol and Jeanot’s (Duck, wild boar, deer, salmon). Ben and Helen and Colin and Lorena all ate as much as we did…and drank more of course. Not a drop has passed these lips (for at least an hour). There have been guests galore, friends, aperetifs, garden parties and house inspections in Mas. We have even entertained with outdoor soirees at our house, including Mag’s super cooking on SYLVIA our 120 year old wood stove, and a number of trips to the Friday night wood-fired pizza van (bois du feu). That is now our new business idea.

M’s all day birthday feast, including lunch by the lake (with a pair of frogs legs), candle-lit evening dinner in our garden (cassoulet, birthday cake, 20 year old champagne we found in the garden), duty-free Cointreau.

Hours and hours of work on the house – chipping away old plaster from the kitchen walls and re-pointing to perfection (M has re-found archaeological skills from her youth).

Watched the Royal wedding (with french commentary over the ‘I do’).

Mazamet market. Ate lots of strawberries.

Wandering around our village. Chatting to Jesus and Mary Magdalene at Easter time (see photo with Justy’s brother Ben in conversation).

Lots of mountain walks on old trails around Mas Cabardes and discovered- at the end of one long ramble –  a great  cafe serving crepe with marron (chestnut) and chantilly creme. Of course we didn’t eat one (them…)

Collecting pine cones for the fire from Le Terry  mountain garden.

We snatched some bargains at the Vide Grenier, including even more Cassoulet dishes. How much cassoulet can one girl eat? a great table for the cocktails back at the house and a tres chic bathroom cabinet. Mags has also finalised the design for the ‘bar’ in the lounge. Now you just don’t get classier than that.

oh, and sleeping – most of the time. And reading. And did we say eating…

Alas, Paris tomorrow and today a tour of hardware shops in Carcasonne. A Bientot x x x x J and M

Fungal fantasies and other myths

19 Mar

Some of you (James and Sarah) might cast your minds back to a conversation we had in France about mushrooms. Okay, maybe we did exaggerate slightly when we suggested that there is only one single ‘mother’ mushroom in the world, which spreads it’s spores beneath the earth and pops up wherever it is so inclined. Imagine an extra ‘fungal skin’ beneath the soil (but above the bubbling lava) which intermittently shoots out a new field of edible snacks. Due to the disbelief of various friends, and the fact that we found a glorious stand of field mushrooms recently in the grounds of ANU (Australian National University) we feel it’s time to dig a bit deeper towards the truth of the fungal matter (and it’s been 1 month since our last weekly post).

It turns out we may have misunderstood (in translation of course) the myth of the single spore and the mother mushroom of the Montagne Noir.

Mushrooms have memory. They also have spores. And they are quiet. They wait patiently in the dark, damp soil of their foremothers until it’s time again to break through the earth and sing some sort of funny songs in the forest (or grassy verge at ANU).

But then there’s the issue of the alzhiemers. They can’t always remember where they popped up last time. Hence the distinctly French pastime of ‘mushroom hunting!’

At Le Campmas, this often starts under cover of darkness due to the highly competitive ‘tracking’ undertaken by other village members in search of the highly prized cep (a delicious and very expensive in the streets of Paris kind of mushroom – but not a mushroom-spore). Jeannot assures us that there is in fact only one living mushroom in the whole of the Montagne Noir. We cannot argue with a french man.

We offer a variety of evidence in support of the ‘one mother mushroom myth’ and a host of other fungal delights we found in the region. Plus two miraculous events: 1) The cep God threw down the bank for Justy to find in the first 10 minutes of hunting, and 2) the giant cep Justy scored from Jeannot’s uncle Tonton later that day last summer after a very long and inibriated lunch!

The gift from God! Justy's first cep find. Beginner's luck!

 

Check out the anti leech rubber wristbands! nice

Guess who found the next two ceps!

The full bounty from our first hunt!

And later that day we found a field of cheeky chantarelles!

Uncle Tonton gifts me the giant cep he's been saving for a rainy day.

Mags' beady eyes scooped the lot at ANU. Mushrooms on toast that night...and lived to blog the tale.

Proof after all that there is just one glorious global spore connecting the entire world.

Progress slowed on the house. It is raining. The Orbiel river, like the Murrumbidgee has seen more water in it than it has in decades.

And lastly, we presented you with icicles at this spot last time, now a gushing torrent…

A new waterfall, where icicles once grew. On the drive to Le Barry.

Have a good week all, M and J x

 

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