See you next week!
Thursday, 27 September 2018
Thursday, 20 September 2018
Southwest France Walks: Mouthiers 2
On our latest hike, The Calm One and I returned to the area from last week's walk, but ventured a bit further south. A nearby road had a deer crossing sign, and sure enough as we headed into the forested pathway, there was a deer, in the near distance, making a beeline for that designated spot! The path was flanked with barbed wire most likely to keep people out and deer in. It will be official hunting season until the end of September and our walk was punctuated with sudden, muffled pops. Muffled is good, we both thought as we made sure we stayed on the path.
Leaving the forest behind, we approached a harvested field. It is also mushroom hunting season so it was not entirely silly of me to think this was a dehydrated boletus ravaged by animals who got to it first before any humans.
When I saw another specimen, I started slowly to doubt my initial identification.
Wild chicory abounds in our area and a beauty caught my attention for a while. But like any nature aficionado, I continued to ruminate about what could that boletus be if it wasn't a boletus?
Then by the time I saw yet another 'dried-out boletus', I put everything together and realised it was a sunflower head. Sunflowers, along with grapes and grains, are common crops in these parts.
The nearby field was a recently harvested sunflower crop. The desiccated nature of the flower head probably was due to the agricultural practice of using drying chemicals to facilitate threshing. Some missed seeds can be noted near the upper right corner in the above photo.
With the patch of farmland receding behind us, we re-entered the forest.
Shortly afterward, we encountered a sizable expanse of purple-pink heather.
Most heathers insist on acidic soil, so it is reasonable to conclude that the pH of the soil is low.
The next prominent flora was fern after fern after fern. Some were green and others were bronzed. Since ferns love their shade, the ones with the deep tan were in full sunlight. Being immobile and having no access to sunscreen lotion, they were showing stress. Or a happier possible explanation is that, they were deciduous and were beginning to prepare for winter.
À la prochaine!
Leaving the forest behind, we approached a harvested field. It is also mushroom hunting season so it was not entirely silly of me to think this was a dehydrated boletus ravaged by animals who got to it first before any humans.
When I saw another specimen, I started slowly to doubt my initial identification.
Wild chicory abounds in our area and a beauty caught my attention for a while. But like any nature aficionado, I continued to ruminate about what could that boletus be if it wasn't a boletus?
Then by the time I saw yet another 'dried-out boletus', I put everything together and realised it was a sunflower head. Sunflowers, along with grapes and grains, are common crops in these parts.
The nearby field was a recently harvested sunflower crop. The desiccated nature of the flower head probably was due to the agricultural practice of using drying chemicals to facilitate threshing. Some missed seeds can be noted near the upper right corner in the above photo.
With the patch of farmland receding behind us, we re-entered the forest.
Shortly afterward, we encountered a sizable expanse of purple-pink heather.
Most heathers insist on acidic soil, so it is reasonable to conclude that the pH of the soil is low.
The next prominent flora was fern after fern after fern. Some were green and others were bronzed. Since ferns love their shade, the ones with the deep tan were in full sunlight. Being immobile and having no access to sunscreen lotion, they were showing stress. Or a happier possible explanation is that, they were deciduous and were beginning to prepare for winter.
À la prochaine!
Thursday, 13 September 2018
Southwest France Walks: Linars & Mouthiers
Our home is situated at Angoulême's southern edge which means we have the best of two worlds, that of the city and the countryside. An amble through fields and forests are invaluable and can be had easily, as there are so many just a five to fifteen minute drive away. Recently we went on two nearby short walks, near Linars and Mouthiers, respectively west and south from our place. Most vineyards in Charente are in Cognac which is about an hour drive from us. Closer home, there are smaller ones dotting the landscape here and there. These grapes are made into pineau, a fortified wine served as an aperitif. It is produced by mixing cognac with either fresh or slightly fermented grapes, and then ageing that mixture.
We are still only doing short walks, around an hour each so we can work ourselves up to doing more challenging ones. Halfway through we took a break and sat just off the path. The Calm One noted, look at how peaceful it is.
Back on the path, I saw an overgrown-with-ivy, crumpled-up, rusty sign fixed to a tree.
Grain is another agricultural crop common to our area. I suspect this field is one of barley.
Before we knew, we were winding our way back to Linars where Zoe (our electric car) was waiting for us.
On another day, we hiked close to Mouthiers where we got a glimpse of a lovely grouping of trees, their dark, slender, tall trunks throwing out entwining branches, uniting them into an arboreal community.
The Calm One saw this shelf mushroom before I did because I was transfixed on the . . .
. . . the deeply grooved texture of the tree to which it was attached.
Upon our return nothing was nicer than to recline in a patio chair under the ivy-covered pergola overlooking our garden. Relaxing in a slouched position is good in itself, but it is also gives a different visual perspective.
One of the decorative tasks accomplished this summer was my lugging two heavy concrete planters from obscure corners of the garden, emptying them of debris and soil, upturning them, and putting potted displays on top. Perched ever so haughtily upon their pedestals, bougainvillea in one pot, a combination of heather and echeveria in another, they flank the start of the central garden path.
À la prochaine!
RELATED POSTS
Autumn 2018 Southwest France Walks: Asnières-sur-Nouère
 |
| near Linars |
We are still only doing short walks, around an hour each so we can work ourselves up to doing more challenging ones. Halfway through we took a break and sat just off the path. The Calm One noted, look at how peaceful it is.
Back on the path, I saw an overgrown-with-ivy, crumpled-up, rusty sign fixed to a tree.
Grain is another agricultural crop common to our area. I suspect this field is one of barley.
Before we knew, we were winding our way back to Linars where Zoe (our electric car) was waiting for us.
On another day, we hiked close to Mouthiers where we got a glimpse of a lovely grouping of trees, their dark, slender, tall trunks throwing out entwining branches, uniting them into an arboreal community.
The Calm One saw this shelf mushroom before I did because I was transfixed on the . . .
. . . the deeply grooved texture of the tree to which it was attached.
Upon our return nothing was nicer than to recline in a patio chair under the ivy-covered pergola overlooking our garden. Relaxing in a slouched position is good in itself, but it is also gives a different visual perspective.
One of the decorative tasks accomplished this summer was my lugging two heavy concrete planters from obscure corners of the garden, emptying them of debris and soil, upturning them, and putting potted displays on top. Perched ever so haughtily upon their pedestals, bougainvillea in one pot, a combination of heather and echeveria in another, they flank the start of the central garden path.
À la prochaine!
RELATED POSTS
Autumn 2018 Southwest France Walks: Asnières-sur-Nouère
Thursday, 6 September 2018
Autumn 2018 Southwest France Walks: Asnières-sur-Nouère
The Calm One and I have resumed hiking in our departement of Charente because as autumn approaches, conditions for country walks improve to the point where we can't pretend it's OK being pallid lumps staring at pixels. Now if they were pixies, that would be fine since such a splendid sight certainly would bring roses to our cheeks. We have since bought a recently published guide for trails in our area but for this time, The Calm One chose off the Web a fairly short stroll just north of Angoulême on undemanding terrain so we can become acclimated to tougher ones as the season progresses. Since the info gleaned was not current, the directions did not take into account the recently extended LGV (high-speed railway) interfering with best laid plans along with our lovely electric car's (Renault Zoe) GPS. The Calm One needed to take off his figurative hat and don one of his many others, that is, The Pathfinder . . .
The Pathfinder was relentless as pathfinders are. Drive for a while, then pull over for a while. Where is Asnières-sur-Nouère? Why is there not a single signpost for it? he mumbled while I noted that we were parked by a cemetery where a grave's stone cross could be seen peeking over the wall under the most blue of skies.
The Pathfinder has a shining past: he has got us through a cross-country trek across America; tramping through Oregon coastal forests; meanderings in the Alps; bouncing around the Cornish peninsula; roaming the Scottish Highlands; ploughing through congested cities throughout Europe. So I let him do his thing, though I could not refrain from saying, Hey, look a path going into a forest, why don't we just go and explore? He snorted and shortly after we arrived at our destination. And a very intriguing one it turned out to be. This village's population except in the first three quarters of the 1900s where it was halved has managed to stay the same since the late 1700s (the village however dates back to medieval times) at around 1200 inhabitants. Way back then, they raised donkeys, hence the village's name is derived from the word for donkey (âne) and the villagers were called Les Garobiers because they grew la garob (carob pods) to feed the donkeys. Confusion still addled us because as we walked past a small square to an ancient lavoir (a long, communal, washing stone-basin) we understandably did not notice the tiny, faded, coloured mark placed close to the ground that the path started here so we headed in the opposite direction into the village proper where we passed a stone house, though deeply fissured along one side . . .
. . . has stood the test of time and nowadays gets to sport both an electric lantern and beginning-to-colour Virginia creeper.
We continued further into the village and spotted another beauty of a stone dwelling with a curved edge . . .
. . . and its wooden door with a slightly bent lintel . . .
. . . along with its rounded window shutter.
As we were traipsing along narrow streets, it occurred to us that the path must be by the lavoir, and it was. Soon we were out in the countryside . . .
. . . and passing by vineyards . . .
. . . and getting close to grapes, in all their delicate colouring, warm chartreuse, cool lime-green, with a touch of rose here, a tinge of violet there.
Upon returning when we passed the side of the house smothered with Virginia creeper, this time, I noticed a shuttered window partially obscured with the climber and a fine dusting of rust-coloured, fallen leaves along the gutter. The season surely is changing.
À la prochaine!
RELATED LINKS
French Wikipedia article for Asnières-sur-Nouère
Official site for Asnières-sur-Nouère
 |
| The Pathfinder stopped here to have a think, rustle through a road map whose upper limit just grazed where we wanted to go, and for me to take a photo of a harvested field & a church steeple |
The Pathfinder was relentless as pathfinders are. Drive for a while, then pull over for a while. Where is Asnières-sur-Nouère? Why is there not a single signpost for it? he mumbled while I noted that we were parked by a cemetery where a grave's stone cross could be seen peeking over the wall under the most blue of skies.
The Pathfinder has a shining past: he has got us through a cross-country trek across America; tramping through Oregon coastal forests; meanderings in the Alps; bouncing around the Cornish peninsula; roaming the Scottish Highlands; ploughing through congested cities throughout Europe. So I let him do his thing, though I could not refrain from saying, Hey, look a path going into a forest, why don't we just go and explore? He snorted and shortly after we arrived at our destination. And a very intriguing one it turned out to be. This village's population except in the first three quarters of the 1900s where it was halved has managed to stay the same since the late 1700s (the village however dates back to medieval times) at around 1200 inhabitants. Way back then, they raised donkeys, hence the village's name is derived from the word for donkey (âne) and the villagers were called Les Garobiers because they grew la garob (carob pods) to feed the donkeys. Confusion still addled us because as we walked past a small square to an ancient lavoir (a long, communal, washing stone-basin) we understandably did not notice the tiny, faded, coloured mark placed close to the ground that the path started here so we headed in the opposite direction into the village proper where we passed a stone house, though deeply fissured along one side . . .
. . . has stood the test of time and nowadays gets to sport both an electric lantern and beginning-to-colour Virginia creeper.
We continued further into the village and spotted another beauty of a stone dwelling with a curved edge . . .
. . . and its wooden door with a slightly bent lintel . . .
. . . along with its rounded window shutter.
As we were traipsing along narrow streets, it occurred to us that the path must be by the lavoir, and it was. Soon we were out in the countryside . . .
. . . and passing by vineyards . . .
. . . and getting close to grapes, in all their delicate colouring, warm chartreuse, cool lime-green, with a touch of rose here, a tinge of violet there.
Upon returning when we passed the side of the house smothered with Virginia creeper, this time, I noticed a shuttered window partially obscured with the climber and a fine dusting of rust-coloured, fallen leaves along the gutter. The season surely is changing.
À la prochaine!
RELATED LINKS
French Wikipedia article for Asnières-sur-Nouère
Official site for Asnières-sur-Nouère
Thursday, 30 August 2018
Late Summer: Harvest's Lead Into Autumn & Recipes
Though The Calm One prefers his raspberries sugared and smothered with whipped cream, these fresh-from-the-garden berries are pretty good on their own. After the first raspberry crop came in about late June which were born on previous season's canes, the patch was weeded, fertilised, mulched, and faithfully watered to encourage a copious second cropping on new canes. There are probably two more bowls to be had before harvesting will be complete. The tops of these canes will be pruned, leaving the rest of them to overwinter so they can produce berries for the first crop come next June.
The carrot crop promises to be abundant though it will be at least a couple of weeks before it will be ready to harvest. Until then, the rows which were thickly sowed will be thinned to provide some lovely baby carrots. These can be be trimmed, scrubbed, and simmered whole with some butter in a covered skillet.
Beefsteak tomatoes and romas continue to be harvested. About 36 kg (80 pounds) so far! Since we have a large freezer, all I have to do to keep on top of this red deluge is to wash and dry them, then to throw them into large ziplock freezer bags. Once frozen, if run under cold water, the skins can be rubbed off with your hands. Most of them will be made into concentrate (for soup) and sauce (See related links below for recipes).
The beet harvest is done and processed. They were scrubbed, tops trimmed, tails left on, boiled till tender, placed under cold running water so their skins, tops & tails could be rubbed off with my hands, and packed into ziplock freezer bags. An easy and simple way to serve both tomatoes and beets is to place slices, thin or thick (we like ours thick!) on a bed of couscous and then top with tuna/shrimp/chicken salad. For tuna salad served with beets, crème fraîche is a much better 'lubricant' than mayonnaise because beets and sour cream is a match made in heaven. Your favourite dressing and spices/herbs could be sprinkled over the salads.
There's enough in the freezer for borscht with scrumptious beef and onion dumplings all year round. Detailed instructions to make this fabulously satisfying meal in a bowl can be found here (some of the photos got corrupted in this ancient post, but the text remains intact). Though it takes two days to make it, there is plenty left over which can be frozen for many a meal. However, to lessen the work involved, canned beef broth can be used along with minced beef instead of homemade broth and simmered stewing beef.
Stir in a bit of crème fraîche for a ravishing raspberry-pink colour punch. Its slight sourness is a nice foil to the natural sweetness of the beets.
A couple of months ago, Daifla variety of potatoes, looked like this:
When their haulms (above ground foliage) are completely spent, they are ready to harvest.
This variety may be a prolific flowerer and a high yielder but the actual taters are not pretty. But what texture, flavour, and colour! These potatoes, made into a simple soup . . .
. . . shimmer with a golden glow as if a certain percentage of their flesh contains cream. They are exceedingly delicious with a smooth, rich texture.
Here are basic instructions to make this soup: A large potato per person should suffice (I usually make enough for eight servings). Saute a minced onion till soft, translucent, and yellow, which takes about 5 minutes. Add cubed potatoes. Barely cover with boiling water (an electric tea kettle is perfect for this) or with water right from the tap and bring to a boil, and then a simmer till potatoes are fork tender, about twenty minutes. Remove half of them and reserve. Using a stick mixer, blend smooth right in the pot. Add milk to get desired consistency. A couple of heaping tablespoons of crème fraîche ups the creamy quotient. Return the reserved potatoes to the pot. Salt to taste. Unabashedly plop some chunks of Bleu d'Auvergne into the serving bowls. Soup will keep in the fridge for several days, but can not be frozen as freezing changes the texture of the potatoes into something unrecognisable.
À la prochaine!
RELATED LINKS
Have lots of tomatoes? Make estratto (tomato paste)! Second paragraph includes links to instructions for making tomato-sausage sauce and stewed tomatoes.
You Grow Food To Process . . . (Harvest 2017), includes instructions to make tomato concentrate to be used in soups
The carrot crop promises to be abundant though it will be at least a couple of weeks before it will be ready to harvest. Until then, the rows which were thickly sowed will be thinned to provide some lovely baby carrots. These can be be trimmed, scrubbed, and simmered whole with some butter in a covered skillet.
Beefsteak tomatoes and romas continue to be harvested. About 36 kg (80 pounds) so far! Since we have a large freezer, all I have to do to keep on top of this red deluge is to wash and dry them, then to throw them into large ziplock freezer bags. Once frozen, if run under cold water, the skins can be rubbed off with your hands. Most of them will be made into concentrate (for soup) and sauce (See related links below for recipes).
The beet harvest is done and processed. They were scrubbed, tops trimmed, tails left on, boiled till tender, placed under cold running water so their skins, tops & tails could be rubbed off with my hands, and packed into ziplock freezer bags. An easy and simple way to serve both tomatoes and beets is to place slices, thin or thick (we like ours thick!) on a bed of couscous and then top with tuna/shrimp/chicken salad. For tuna salad served with beets, crème fraîche is a much better 'lubricant' than mayonnaise because beets and sour cream is a match made in heaven. Your favourite dressing and spices/herbs could be sprinkled over the salads.
There's enough in the freezer for borscht with scrumptious beef and onion dumplings all year round. Detailed instructions to make this fabulously satisfying meal in a bowl can be found here (some of the photos got corrupted in this ancient post, but the text remains intact). Though it takes two days to make it, there is plenty left over which can be frozen for many a meal. However, to lessen the work involved, canned beef broth can be used along with minced beef instead of homemade broth and simmered stewing beef.
Stir in a bit of crème fraîche for a ravishing raspberry-pink colour punch. Its slight sourness is a nice foil to the natural sweetness of the beets.
A couple of months ago, Daifla variety of potatoes, looked like this:
When their haulms (above ground foliage) are completely spent, they are ready to harvest.
This variety may be a prolific flowerer and a high yielder but the actual taters are not pretty. But what texture, flavour, and colour! These potatoes, made into a simple soup . . .
. . . shimmer with a golden glow as if a certain percentage of their flesh contains cream. They are exceedingly delicious with a smooth, rich texture.
Here are basic instructions to make this soup: A large potato per person should suffice (I usually make enough for eight servings). Saute a minced onion till soft, translucent, and yellow, which takes about 5 minutes. Add cubed potatoes. Barely cover with boiling water (an electric tea kettle is perfect for this) or with water right from the tap and bring to a boil, and then a simmer till potatoes are fork tender, about twenty minutes. Remove half of them and reserve. Using a stick mixer, blend smooth right in the pot. Add milk to get desired consistency. A couple of heaping tablespoons of crème fraîche ups the creamy quotient. Return the reserved potatoes to the pot. Salt to taste. Unabashedly plop some chunks of Bleu d'Auvergne into the serving bowls. Soup will keep in the fridge for several days, but can not be frozen as freezing changes the texture of the potatoes into something unrecognisable.
À la prochaine!
RELATED LINKS
Have lots of tomatoes? Make estratto (tomato paste)! Second paragraph includes links to instructions for making tomato-sausage sauce and stewed tomatoes.
You Grow Food To Process . . . (Harvest 2017), includes instructions to make tomato concentrate to be used in soups
Thursday, 28 June 2018
Summer Break 2018
Frenzied spring gardening has morphed into mostly watering and pulling some beets and carrots from time to time.
So there's lots of time available to lounge under our ivy-covered pergola overlooking the potager while consuming vats of Banana Agua Fresca (recipe) as temperatures approach 36 degrees C (97 degrees F) in the coming week . . .
. . . and reading these books (reviews to follow) as summer unfolds:
Notorious RBG: The Life And Times of Ruth Bader Ginsburg by Irin Carmon
Against Empathy: The Case For Rational Compassion by Paul Bloom
The Intimacies Of Four Continents by Lisa Lowe
The Calm One recently got us some solar lamps. They are lovely on their own, but with a full moon and stars blinking in a clear night sky overhead, all is enchanted.
May your beaux jours (literal translation: beautiful days, that is, summer) be enjoyable, interesting, and most of all relaxing! Souped-up Garden will return in August.
 |
| Front garden / foreground: lavender, plum tree, abelia, shasta daisies, spirea; background: asters, Japanese anemones, ivy, rose of Sharon |
So there's lots of time available to lounge under our ivy-covered pergola overlooking the potager while consuming vats of Banana Agua Fresca (recipe) as temperatures approach 36 degrees C (97 degrees F) in the coming week . . .
. . . and reading these books (reviews to follow) as summer unfolds:
Notorious RBG: The Life And Times of Ruth Bader Ginsburg by Irin Carmon
Against Empathy: The Case For Rational Compassion by Paul Bloom
The Intimacies Of Four Continents by Lisa Lowe
The Calm One recently got us some solar lamps. They are lovely on their own, but with a full moon and stars blinking in a clear night sky overhead, all is enchanted.
 |
| View is from the back of the garden towards the patio |
May your beaux jours (literal translation: beautiful days, that is, summer) be enjoyable, interesting, and most of all relaxing! Souped-up Garden will return in August.
Thursday, 21 June 2018
The Cool Banana: Nog, Smoothie & Agua Fresca
See those almost too-ripe-to-eat, brown-spotted bananas in your fruit bowl? Pop them in the fridge so they can get very cold. With a stick mixer and additions of different proportions of milk, crème fraîche, and water, three different summer beverages are yours for the taking. Ice cubes and a dusting of cinnamon come in handy too.
Let's commence with the one with the thickest consistency which is the banana-nog. For two small servings, and this could be presented for dessert, break off chunks of one medium, peeled, exceedingly almost embarrassingly ripe (remove any fibrous strings) banana that is well-chilled into the stick mixer's cylindrical jar.
Cover half-way with cold milk and add a large dollop of crème fraîche (sour cream could be substituted).
Blend until smooth. Our 750 watt jobbie did it in about twenty seconds.
I deliberately included a few chunks that was discoloured to give it a slight fermented edge to simulate alcohol so the nog looked more on the amber side then the yellow. Just imagine that's really added whiskey that was aged in ex-sherry casks. The banana seeds look like nutmeg! A little mound of crème fraîche could be put on top.
For two medium-sized glasses of smoothies, add enough cold milk just to cover the banana chunks. Blend till velvety.
Top with banana slices and cinnamon.
To make two largish glasses of aqua fresca, cover the banana chunks with an inch (2.5 cm) of milk and then add another inch (2.5 cm) of water. Get those ice cubes clinking by adding quite a few.
Tumbling the ice cubes into the glasses causes a creamy head to form which is delightful.
Though sugar, honey, or maple syrup could be added, they were all fine without added sweetening. Remember, the bananas are RIPE, much more than bananas that are eaten out of hand. I love all three, but the agua fresca is my fave.
À la prochaine!
Let's commence with the one with the thickest consistency which is the banana-nog. For two small servings, and this could be presented for dessert, break off chunks of one medium, peeled, exceedingly almost embarrassingly ripe (remove any fibrous strings) banana that is well-chilled into the stick mixer's cylindrical jar.
Cover half-way with cold milk and add a large dollop of crème fraîche (sour cream could be substituted).
Blend until smooth. Our 750 watt jobbie did it in about twenty seconds.
I deliberately included a few chunks that was discoloured to give it a slight fermented edge to simulate alcohol so the nog looked more on the amber side then the yellow. Just imagine that's really added whiskey that was aged in ex-sherry casks. The banana seeds look like nutmeg! A little mound of crème fraîche could be put on top.
For two medium-sized glasses of smoothies, add enough cold milk just to cover the banana chunks. Blend till velvety.
Top with banana slices and cinnamon.
To make two largish glasses of aqua fresca, cover the banana chunks with an inch (2.5 cm) of milk and then add another inch (2.5 cm) of water. Get those ice cubes clinking by adding quite a few.
Tumbling the ice cubes into the glasses causes a creamy head to form which is delightful.
À la prochaine!
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