Shopping for Supper, the Way the French Do

We thought we were prepared for our stay in France. We had translator apps all set up in our phones,  we had special European coverage so that we would be able to use them, we arranged to have Euros on hand, and we had a wonderful navigator thingy in our rented diesel Peugeot. 

However, I'm afraid that as novice European travelers, we simply didn't know what we didn't know. Out in the French countryside, very few folks spoke any English. No problem: We turned to our phones for some handy phrases. Oops, no coverage as promised: Phones didn't work. 

Then came the problem of finding something to eat. Okay, we had plenty of Euros but we simply could not find a supermarket, or anything resembling one. We found the occasional small village store, but they were never open when we were hungry. It seems that family mealtime is very important to the French and they all go home for hours in the middle of the day. When we were finally able to get into one of the little stores, they had what we would consider emergency supplies only. Obviously, the French were well fed and fond of their food, but where the heck were they finding any?

We eventually worked it out. We knew that there were occasional open air markets held here and there and the thoughtful folks who rented the house to us had left a schedule of which town hosted the market on which day. We were picturing American-style farmers markets, which we use to supplement the big weekly shopping we do at the supermarket. Apparently, the French buy the bulk of their food at these outdoor markets. 

And is it ever fresh!  If you will scroll back up to the top photo, you will see a gentleman carrying a cardboard box back to his car. We had no idea at the time that it contained his monthly supply of poultry, still on the hoof! A kindly vendor explained to us--he had a little broken English and we had less and far-more-fractured French, but we worked it out. He told us that those in the know arrive early at this monthly market, famous for its poultry, held in the ancient town of Lencloitre. Thousands of chickens, geese, guineas, doves, quails, and ducks are sold out in the first hour or so. People carry their boxes of live poultry back to their cars, then return to finish the rest of their shopping in a more leisurely fashion. 

I guess those little feathered guys provide fresh meals for the family until the next monthly market. No plucked and cut-up and sanitarily packaged chicken for these folks!

I liked the way the greens were hung so the ducklings (goslings?)
had to reach for their food, giving them a little exercise in those crowded cages

The chicken guys were able to handle six to ten chickens at a time by grabbing their legs

You got the sense that these weren't like the coddled backyard chickens of America--I'm talking about the ones that get names like Peckatina (to mention a girl we all know and love)

After the family's poultry supply had been squared away, people had time to look over the bedding plants...

... and saddles, clothing, shoes, fresh fish (dead, but fresh), oysters, eels, lovely cheeses, all kinds of charcuterie (as we learned, these are bacon, ham, sausage, terrines, galantines, pâtés, and confit), eggs of every sort, breads and all kinds of pastries, vegetables, fruits, and wine.

Oh, yes. We mustn't forget the mandoline man. He demonstrated his slicer with a deftness that had to be seen to be believed. He chopped, he minced, he julienned, and he grated. He made dangly earring-shaped decorations from zucchinis (of course he called them courgettes). He was charming. He knew he had a sucker with this American tourist (who was thinking nostalgically of the Deerfield Fair in New Hampshire). I couldn't tear myself away until I bought the miracle-working slicer and all its accompanying attachments ("only" 20€). Of course, it came in a sealed box with no instructions. We haven't managed to make it slice a thing yet but, on a positive note, we haven't chopped off our fingers, either. 

He minced, he charmed

Although we didn't buy anything that was still alive, we were so proud that we had finally figured out how to buy food! And wine! Lots and lots of wine!

I know I've shown you this photo before, but it's my best food photo ever. 

A Day in the 12th Century

The medieval city from below (photo by my son, Ben)

One of the first places we visited while in France last summer was the town of Chauvigny in the Vienne department of Poitou-Charente. The medieval part of the town is on a hill, and it contains the ruins of several castles:  "Château des Eveques (‘baronial chateau'), the 'Chateau d'Harcourt', the 'donjon de gouzon', and the chateau de Montleon."

We spent the morning wandering around the narrow passageways. I was surprised to find that some of the houses were still occupied and that garages had been built into what might have once been stables. Adding to the mixture and ancient and modern, the 12th century donjon (great tower) had a rebuilt stairway lit by modern skylights; and we could see the cooling towers of a nuclear plant in the distance. 

Narrow little passageway

People still live inside the castle walls

Small cars can just make it down these narrow passages.
Note the garages to the right, and the old drain that goes down the middle of the pavement

I loved the views out over the old roofs

The Church of St. Pierre

This is a modern sculpture outside the workshop of one of the resident artisans who work on the ongoing preservation and repair of the buildings

This modern sculpture sits on the stairs leading to the castle keep

Amid all the ancient walls and roofs you can see a bit of modern glass skylight

Look closely: In the distance you can spot the twin towers of the nearby Civaux Nuclear Power Plant

Looking down at the small streets and ancient roofs; I couldn't get enough of scenes like these

More roofs in another direction. Interestingly enough, you could hardly tell where the walled city ended and the newer city began, because the styles remained so much the same.

Vacationing in a French Country House (Was It All a Dream?)

What a summer it has been! Since returning from our travels to France, Iceland, New York, New Hampshire, and California we've been kicking back and lazily enduring the desert summer heat here in southern New Mexico. Our time in France is starting to feel like a dream, so I'd better start writing about some of the wonderful memories before they drift away completely. 

We flew to Paris at the end of May, picked up our rental car and headed south, jet-lagged as we were. Don't you wish you had been there with us? Three worn out and cranky travelers, snappy tempers, unfamiliar car, busy Paris highways, unfamiliar road signs... We might have given up, were it not for the crisp, no-nonsense British woman's voice issuing forth from under the Peugeot's navigation screen. She led us down through the zippy roads leading to the A-10, south through the beautiful Loire Valley, then into a maze of rural roads and roundabouts, until we were on what seemed like donkey tracks leading through field after field of wheat and red poppies. Where in the heck was this place we had rented via the Internet?

Here is was, at last: Les Volets Bleus (Blue Shutters) in the commune of Monts-sur-Guesnes ("settled for many centuries"). We loved the house at first sight. It was tucked back from the quiet road, its front yard fragrant with lime trees, herbs, roses, and honeysuckle.

The shutters provided French-style natural air conditioning. There seemed to be no mosquitoes, but a bird flew in one morning, took a turn around the room while tweeting its approval, then flew out again. That's my son inside, setting up dinner reservations via the wireless internet access. 

The front door brought us into this marvelous great room/kitchen, which was outfitted with everything we needed. I loved the dishes and casseroles, especially the rabbit one. 

The other side of the great room contained spaces for people to visit around the fireplace, and that large round table where we could look out through the honeysuckle vines while sipping local wine. If you click to enlarge this photo, you might be able to make out the rabbit casserole over on the shelf in the corner.

There was another room down the hall with another fireplace and a library full of books I would have liked to have read. Alas, no time for reading...

This charming staircase led upstairs to many bedrooms with sleeping accommodations for ten or so. 

This is the bedroom that Beez and I chose to stay in. That was one comfy bed with a luxurious duvet and feather pillows. Throughout the house I admired the curtains and bed linens and slipcovers, all done by an expert with a wonderful sense of color and style. 

This was the upstairs bathroom with a view. Those big windows were always open during the cool parts of the day and overlooked the fragrant lime trees (no relation to citrus trees--we call them linden trees in North America), whose perfume is said to exert a calming influence. Downstairs was another bathroom with a claw-foot bathtub. 

We had some memorable meals out on this veranda, with its view of the surrounding hills and a medieval tower ruin. There were cherries, roses, and lavender for the picking and within reach; with grapes and figs to come later. I wanted to stay in this house forever...

As a matter of fact, you could do just that. The place is for sale now, since the owners would like to be done with their long-distance property management (they live in California, Massachusetts, and New Mexico). Perhaps you would like to buy the place and rent it out to us for a couple of weeks next summer--it comes completely furnished. I'll bet those wonderful dishes are included, as well. Details regarding the sale of the property are here.

What We Did On Our Summer Vacation

You'll have to pardon my excitement, but this was our first trip to Europe, so you'll be hearing a bit more about it. I thought it might help if I told you all the places we went.

First, we headed to New York from El Paso, so that we could meet up with our son, who was traveling onward with us. Because we are such country mice and were quickly exhausted by wandering around crowded Manhattan on foot, we made our way to this peaceful sanctuary of a cemetery just across from the World Trade Center site.

St. Paul's Churchyard

The next day, we left New York and headed for Iceland, where we had a very brief layover--just long enough for a beautiful open-faced smoked salmon sandwich. Yep, it's always about the food with us. 

Can you tell that I'm excited about becoming a world traveler?

After our late-night "lunch" in Iceland, we headed off in the summer twilight (it doesn't really get dark this time of year in Iceland) and on to Paris. Pausing just long enough to figure out the controls on the rental car and to program the navigator, we headed south through the Loire Valley to the beautiful blue-shuttered house, Les Volets Bleus, that we had rented for the week. The link below the photo will take you to many more views of the lovely interior. It was a dreamy place to stay, and it was all ours--for the week, anyway.

Les Volets Bleus

After an all-too-short week in the countryside, visiting chateaux and abbeys, street markets and gardens, beautiful villages and the sea, we drove back up to Paris and turned in the rental car. From that point on, we explored Paris as the Parisians do--on foot, by metro (subway), by boat, and by le taxi. But not by bike or Vespa--I drew the line there!

An amazing piece of interactive street art. Look closely (click to enlarge)
and you will see that the sidewalk appears to have heaved upward. The little boy
was using it for a slide. I can still hear his laughter. This is located off of the Boulevard Saint Germain, on the south side, at the intersection of Rue de Rennes and Rue Bonaparte. It's in the Place du Quebec and the sculpture is Charles Daudelin's, l’Embâcle http://fr.wikipedia.org/wiki/Place_du_Qu%C3%A9bec

In Paris, we visited museums, strolled through parks and gardens, ate at sidewalk cafes, became philosophers for an afternoon, indulged ourselves at the Angelina Tea Room, and took an evening boat ride on the Seine.

Sunset over the Seine

Then we flew back to Iceland, swam in the geothermal waters of the Blue Lagoon, and continued on to Boston. In Boston, we did a bit of shopping and a bit of eating (you're not surprised by now, I'm sure), then drove up to New Hampshire for two days of visiting, partying, and reuniting with old friends. And then we flew once more, back to El Paso.

Phew. It's no wonder that some mornings I wake up wondering which hotel I'm in, and which language I'm expected to understand for the day!

What We've Been Doing Lately

We are far from our southern New Mexico desert in every way. Under the cloudy and temperate skies of France, we are wandering through chateaux,

Villandry, the chateau

looking at gardens recreated in the 16th century manner, 

Villandry, the gardens

seeing how people lived long ago, 

Villandry, one of the bedrooms

and loving the old stone walls and wild poppies everywhere in the French countryside. 

In the countryside, near Monts-sur-Guesnes

We are peeking into the remains of the moats around walled cities to see the gardens that people make,

In the town of Richelieu

going to markets where the French buy boxes of live chickens to keep them supplied with fresh meals until the market comes around again in a month,

Market day in Lencloitre

and putting together our own beautiful table in the Poitou-Charentes.

Local bounty from the market and the patisserie