Le Rouge et Le Noir… or the long and the short of it.

Gypsy has at last spared me a precious nanosecond in which to accomplish her portrait. She may well have fundamentalist leanings being that her head is covered most of the time as it is buried in the ground digging for freedom or the pipe to our fosse septique which is Willie Wonka’s factory to a dogs olfactory sense, and for the rest of the time I can only see her fundament at the far end of the lead or sometimes on my pillow as I wake. I was not good with babies, nor with children come to think of it and I’m not all that good with people but I certainly never wanted to be good with dogs so the fact that they have made me their new best friend is unnerving. As I sit at the computer my peripheral vision is filled with black floorbound sprawling attentive poodles. I have become a the Poodle Piper. Poodles are with me wherever I go. Dancing with wolves was nothing compared to  dancing with pans of boiling water whilst negotiating a path from oven to sink through a mini pack of highly mobile barking shiny eyed blackness: the folk of the forest, otherwise known as dogs’ best friends,  have become accustomed to the grey haired loon being dragged ever further into its depth by the two black hounds of Lilliput, twice daily. My wife has a friend who often offered advice in the form of this doggerel ” …the more you do, the more you may” which I would deride as bollocks and the ramblings of someone who has had the misfortune of spending too much time in Norfolk. The problem is that it’s true – particularly in the case of small dogs. Each pat on the head, each throw of the ball, each tiny piece of chicken offered as a treat and each click of the “walkies” lead mounts up,  with compound interest, in the love bank of these small brained love sponges. To keep things simple in the kitchen, whilst doing a sword dance with two living claymores, I am baking potatoes which will be eaten with creme fraiche and, for the lack of Iranian caviar, lumpfish. There will also be the simplest and best tomato salad made from one of several delicious examples that I taxed from our daughter’s garden along with tiny, yet deliciously irresistible strawberries from the same source.

About Food,Photography & France

Photographer and film maker living in France. After a long career in London, my wife and I have settled in the Vendee, where we run residential digital photography courses with a strong gastronomic flavour.
This entry was posted in Caviar, Chicken, Cooking, creme fraiche, Digital photography, Dogs, food, Food and Photography, Food photographer, France, Fruit, Humour, Lumpfish, Photography, photography course, Photography holiday, Poodles, Still life, strawberries, tomatoes, Uncategorized, Writing. Bookmark the permalink.

32 Responses to Le Rouge et Le Noir… or the long and the short of it.

  1. Oh, yes. You are completely in Gypsy’s power. And I can tell just how much the dogs must love the fosse septique 😀 Chuckling indulgently over here in the UK, Roger.

  2. moonsinging says:

    I love your blog – and a great place to run into at about lunch hour . . yum! Thanks for the loads of inspiration and for stopping by my new wordpress child!

  3. Michelle says:

    “Small brained love sponges.” 🙂

  4. Mad Dog says:

    Invite some Koreans over for dinner 😉

  5. Tandy says:

    The thing I love the most about the dogs in the kitchen is that they eat all the bits of veg we don’t cook!

  6. Rachel says:

    I can almost (but only almost) smell those strawberries… mmmm (sigh)…

  7. The strawberries look beautiful, but whether they’re enough compensation for the poodles, I’m not sure …..(they wouldn’t be for me!)

  8. ChgoJohn says:

    I’ve had dogs, both large and small, competing with me for kitchen floor space and I don’t know which size is the worst. The small ones do get under-foot more often and the danger is real. On the other hand, I’ve never come upon one of the little guys lapping up what was to have been my dinner from a pot/pan atop the stove. It’s such a mixed bag.

  9. I was laughing all the way through this post – I couldn’t even pick out a favourite line. So many! Please tell me that you’ll be writing a book a la Peter Mayle about your adventures in France? Lovely portrait of the busy bee poodle. I definitely identify with this line very well: “Each pat on the head, each throw of the ball, each tiny piece of chicken offered as a treat and each click of the “walkies” lead mounts up, with compound interest, in the love bank of these small brained love sponges.” You’ve made friends for life Roger!

  10. What a lovely post. Anyone who has a dog, will melt when reading the walkies and love sponges. The strawberries look pretty good too but I’ll take the dog.

  11. Now THAT is the intensity of color I wish I could capture in my photos…

  12. I can almost smell the dog, I mean the berries, the berries. Strawberries are a distant memory here, wish they weren’t but am glad the worst of summer is hopefully over.

  13. Great pictures!!! I like strawberries! =)

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