Category Archives: Eau de vie
smoke and sorcery….
This morning I awoke to the scent of wood smoke; a scent so filled with memories that I wished it could somehow be preserved. On inspection it was clear that some red hot ashes, all that remained of last night’s log fire, had metamorphosed … Continue reading
fly poster….
I foolishly forgot to include a recipe for the this wonderful pear cake in my last post so here it is. The recipe comes from Patricia Wells’ “The Provence Cookbook” which is among my favourite books of recipes. There is … Continue reading
Still waters…eaux de vie..
This man is disappearing. When I came to France, some 14 years ago, he and his brethren were part of the fabric of country life. He is a “bouilleur ambulant” or a peripatetic distiller; a bringer of joy and a creator … Continue reading
If you like a firm pear, sir..
Those innocent words dropping from the lips of a helpful assistant in a fruit shop in the country town of Wallingford are still clear in my mind. Very little else of those heady days, in the early 70’s, is clear … Continue reading
The first cut is the deepest…and often the best..
This is a simple and delicious recipe from the pen of Patricia Wells. Enjoy.
Writing with a plum in my mouth…
Patrick, one of our neighbours, arrived at our house yesterday afternoon with a box piled high with sun warm mirabelles that he had just picked from one of his trees. He’s not a man of many words but the words … Continue reading
Pike fishing in the Vendee..
I went looking for a château this afternoon and found one very easily. In the newly Socialist led Republique Francaise it is not difficult to find châteaux with noble French families still ensconced within. France may well be “gauchiste” but … Continue reading
En ymmärrä! or have you played Scrabble in Finnish?
I’m no stranger to the Finnish Scrabble board so I should be better at it by now. It’s a game that I don’t intentionally join because its complexity is such that the Glass Bead Game would be as simple as … Continue reading
La recherche du pain perdu or memories of idyllic petits dejs….
Croissants are iconic. They say France and they invoke the smell of coffee and the taste of apricot jam in whichever setting of that extraordinary country to which you have been transported by your imagination – blue seas, peaceful mountains … Continue reading
The bar that Zagat forgot to visit….
This is the nearest bar to our house which, I should mention, is a very, very, very fine house with two cats in the yard, life…I have to confess that the cats have been dead for a couple of years … Continue reading