Friday 9 September 2011

39) Strange house guests


This strange little fellow arrived on the door step the other day (uninvited).  It was (apparently) a tree frog.  It looked rather hot so I (rather helpfully/kindly) splashed some cold water on it.  The (tree) frog didn't seem to like this much (presumably because it is not necessarily that wet in trees - as opposed to ponds) and promptly spat some sort of (potentially poisonous) fluid at me, which luckily missed.  It then hopped into the kitchen and jumped several feet onto the wall, where it stuck with gravity-defying sureness.  I had read about bright green tree frogs in the Amazon jungle, whose poison the natives use to lace the tips of their arrows so that their victims become instantly paralysed and then die.  I even seem to remember it was a particularly agonising sort of death, although this may be just my memory or imagination playing tricks.


Whatever the truth concerning Amazonian tree frogs, I was not going to pick up this potentially lethal toxic frog in my hands, particularly after its attempt to paralyse me with a squirt of its noxious mucus.  In the end it seemed to decide, of its own accord, that our kitchen was not a forest and, indeed, it did not even have any trees in it ( I suspect it may have mistaken our 1970's fake oak look-alike kitchen units for a forest of local Quercus)  In great leaps and bounds it went back onto the balcony and then disappeared over the side.  Clearly frogs have to be very wary in France, with the local's penchant for frying their legs as a rather tasty entree.  No doubt they also have to watch out for the many different birds of prey that circle on thermals, searching out juicy morsels in the landscape below.  Not surprising then that their first reaction (particularly when being drenched with cold water) is rather on the aggressive side.  But once he (or she) realised I meant no harm but was merely ignorant, we became the best of friends - it even smiled.


Wednesday 7 September 2011

38) Wine tasting

Rose from our local vineyard, Domaine de la Garde
At long last we have got round to the serious business of wine tasting.  The Cahors appellation takes itself quite seriously, but the wine does vary tremendously.  There are several hundred vineyards and so far we have been to two (we are looking forward to trying out the others).  In addition to the official Cahors wines (mostly along the course of the River Lot), there is an area of wines known as Coteaux de Quercy (we are just in this region).

The other week we went to an evening wine festival in Castelnau Montratier.  It was great.  We bought our two wine glasses (above - both of which we've now broken, I broke one, G broke the other) and off we went.  There were lots of producers from both Cahors and the Coteaux de Quercy.  We tried quite a few and bought several bottles.  We also had a rather good supper, sitting in the rain at trestle tables with all the French locals.  We had aligot for the first time and it was delicious.  It is made from a blend of creme fraiche, puréed potatoes, cheese (tomme d'Auvergne) and garlic.  It is traditionally served with Toulouse sausages (which is how we had it, together with a sort of ratatouille).

A no nonsense box of rose from Clos Siguier firmly settled in our fridge
Since then we have visited our nearest vineyard, la Domaine de La Garde (which happens to be rather good), and le Clos Siguier, which is also nearby.  We had come across this one in Montcuq market.  They do a rather good dark rose at 3.80 euros a bottle.  However, we have discovered that they do exactly the same thing in a five litre box.  As can be seen from the photograph above, they do not spend anything unnecessary on fancy packaging - but this does allow them to sell it at the equivalent of about £1.32 a bottle.  You just stick it in the fridge and it will keep for about three or four weeks (if you don't drink it before).  Boxes are better than buying "en vrac" (which is when you just take along your own container for them to fill up).  Boxes have a collapsible plastic bag inside, which allows the wine to come out without any air getting in.  We have bought en vrac, but you really have to drink the wine within three or four days, which can be a bit of a challenge if there are just two of you to get through five litres (or maybe not).

Monday 5 September 2011

37) Home produce


All of a sudden the walnuts have started to look like proper walnuts.  Despite having only one tree, it seems to produce vast quantities of noix.



They do take quite a lot of cracking, but they are well worth the (quite considerable) effort.


The figs on our (fig) tree have also suddenly started started to swell up and ripen, having been rather worryingly small until recently.  They are really delicious, but I fear they are going to all be ready at once (we are thus investigating methods of drying them).


We have also begun to plant a herb garden.  It may not look much but it was an enormous effort to dig up all the weeds, not to mention a labyrinth of knotted roots formed over years and years of neglect.


Unfortunately, we discovered another hornet's nest.  This time in an old half dead tree, just near the little house again.  These weren't Asiatic hornets, though, just ordinary "European" hornets.  Quite big (and loud) enough to put the fear of God into me.  Straight on the phone to Monsieur Delsol, and he was round the same afternoon.  The mole also seems to be back (together with a friend), and I suspect the explosive charge must have just missed him.  Our amiable assasin is now my best friend, and he has offered to blow up BOTH moles free of charge.


He has already dispatched the poor unfortunate hornets.  I never thought I would feel sorry for a hornet, but he bought me the queen to show me how much bigger than the others it was.  It really did look so very sad.  Once so proud and powerful, ruling a complex community of potential warriors, and now covered in a noxious white powder, and dead.  Very dead.  Probably for the best.  It was right by G's bed of saffron crocuses....... too terrible to contemplate.  But sad none the less.