Bowls

Just as cricket is that national past time for the English, bowls is enjoyed by the French. It is however a much more relaxed affair. All is required is a set of bowls and a flattish piece of ground. This game is played throughout France, throughout the year. Yesterday, I saw two or three games in different village squares in full swing. This game does however appear to be just for the men...I have yet to see a woman play !!

Christmas Lights

Brittany’s answer to Regents Street.

A evening stroll to enjoy the Christmas lights.

Last Minute Shopping

Our local supermarket at 10.00am on Christmas Eve. Really quite relaxed. Everyone seemed to be enjoying this last shop before Christmas, and at the checkouts, trolleys weren’t full, just a few items in the bottom.. at this point I did wonder if my local Sainsbury’s in the UK would be as quiet !!..

Repas de Noel

The Christmas Lunch. Everyone was invited to attend, so as the bells struck mid-day, everyone assembled at the village hall. We were ushered into the large and slightly chilly hall. Aperitifs were circulated, glasses were raised, Merry Christmas to all.

Tables had been laid in a large horse shoe shape and the school cook began to serve the scallops in puff pastry and then veal cooked in white wine. Whilst we were enjoying the salad and cheese the mayor sang a traditional Christmas song, as he does, I am told every year, and finally to finish chocolate cake with crème anglais.

As I looked around me I saw everyone enjoying a simple but traditional French meal with absolutely no pretensions at all, and again I noticed that there are no social barriers. The commune gardener had been in deep discussions with a very senior man in the police who is responsible for speed trap design and development for over an hour, the local cleaning lady was sitting between two very influential business women yet there are no social divides everyone is respected regardless of their job and the size of their car.

Christmas cake fascination

The Christmas cakes were a success. One woman telephoned a couple of days ago and asked me if a Christmas cake would keep until New Year. Easily, I replied. She was not convinced, ' Are you sure it won't go bad ?', she again asked.
I then explained that a tradition in the UK, was to keep the top layer of the wedding cake, which is the same as a Christmas cake until the Christening of the first child.
She laughed and said that even a Christmas cake wouldn't of waited for her sister, Isabelles' first child.. it took her fifteen years !!!..
The news of the longevity of the Christmas cake has obviously spread as yesterday evening I received a telephone call from another woman who asked, I bought a Bakewell Tart last Sunday, as this is an English cake, will this keep until the New Year ? !!

Christmas Fete

And finally, the day of the Christmas fete came and went. Thankfully, it was a success, most of out crafts which we have laboured over for the past 4 weeks sold. After again, much prodding, and numerous Gallic shrugs and mutters of, ' I don't know , she made them, she is English'.. all my 16 cakes sold..and at the end of the afternoon we had made 140 euros !!

Committes and Christmas cakes

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The annual Christmas Fete is now only two days away, and as with any event organised by a committee there are far too many chiefs. One evening last week I attended a 'preparation meeting' where lists were made of what need to be done. The hall was to be decorated, tree collected and erected, tables and chairs arranged, our 'crafts' displayed, the list went on.. and finally, to set a time to do the work. Of the ten people at the 'preparation meeting' only two were actually free to do the work !!.. It is quite therapeutic putting out chairs and displaying table decorations !!

Last year, I was asked to make a cake, a tricky one, far to risky to make something french like an apple tart, and would they eat an English cake... After much deliberation I decided to make a Christmas Cake..It would either be a success or a complete failure..there would be no middle ground. After much, pointing, and 'what is that ?', and 'I think it's English' , it was a success So, my other allocated task this year is to make 6 Christmas cakes, which are almost complete after three weeks of soaking the dried fruit in brandy, baking, marzipanning and finally today icing. This task thankfully requires no committee, just me with a bowl of icing and some Christmas carols...

Morning Sun

A sharp frost, a beautiful sunrise, how could anyone feel but happy and uplifted to wake up to this.

Ready Meals

For eleven months every year we are starved of convenience food. However big the supermarket there are still no ready meals to be found.. and on occasion I have even found myself craving reconstituted chicken which has been injected with garlic flavoured butter and then beautifully packaged as a superior chicken Kiev. Craving or not, these don't exist in France and I just has to make my own chicken Kiev using a real chicken breast !! But in December, every supermarket produces their own range of 'ready menus'. These are not just meals but 4 or even 5 courses !!..The booklets advertising these amazing feasts all beautifully photographed and offer the full menus or an a la carte option and some even include the wine..
However, although these gastronomic delights are heavily promoted, the French supermarkets STILL won't allow ready meals on their shelves, so you have to order your 'ready meal' !!!

The Hunt

Wild boar, or rather the long coarse hair of the wild boar is a very common sight in the wooded areas in Southern Brittany, but now I hope they are settled deep in the forest.
The hunting season is now in full swing, dogs are transported in special kennel type trailors and the orange capped huntsmen are a familiar sight in all woods, forests and scrublands.
The expectant anticipation of these solitary men and their dogs is clear.. will the mornings' work yield a pheasant, a rabbit or perhaps a wild boar !!

Dunking

I had always thought that dunking ginger nut biscuits into ones' cup of tea was a very English trait. For the English this activity is always done in the confines of ones home for fear of not quite getting the dunking time : biscuit sogginess ratio quite correct and dropping half a disintegrated ginger nut on your neighbours carpet !!. However, I have found that the French are a lot ore adventurous in what they dunk, they are also not at all shy about where they perform this act. The only difference is that the French dunk into coffee.. and they happily dunk bread, biscuits, cake and even camembert into their morning coffee. My neighbour puts her breakfast muesli into her coffee.. it is practical she tells me, only one large cup to wash up !!

Rabies is back

Rabies is back in the Vendee.

Hot topic of conversation this morning. I thought that rabies was a thing of the past, dogs foaming at the mouth and being terrified of water.. but no, apparently not. Somehow a bat has contracted the disease. The bat then bit a cat and the cat then bit a domestic rabbit.. at this point I really wanted to say..'I don't know why she swallowed a fly, perhaps she'll die !!".. thankfully I can't think in french quickly enough !!..

So beware of bats, cats and domestic rabbits in the Vendee...

Swimming

As there is no school on Wednesdays, what better way to spend a damp and drizzly November morning than in a cold and wet swimming pool !!. Wednesday mornings at our local pool are purely for children under 8 years old. The pool has a small slide, a yellow 'rug' is placed in the centre of the pool for children to run along and then jump off the end. There are 'frites' (foam cylinders that are placed under the arms to aid buoyancy), floats, balls, watering cans, sinking fish..and the best part is..no adults are allowed in the pool !!.

So with much excitement we arrive at 10.00am and join other like minded mothers and children. Ten minutes later, a life guard appears, probably wondering why there are no children in the toy laden pool. 'Ah, the receptionist hasn't arrived' she says.., 'now I don't know what to do, never mind, just write your name on this piece of paper and you can pay next week'....

The Pig

Such a screeching sound, and it doesn't stop, it just gets louder and louder.

Finally my curiosity wins..I walk cautiously along the road and past the farm and to my horror the farm house door is open and there is a stream of blood flowing out of the door and down the road.

The screeching has stopped and there is an eerie silence.

'Bonjour', I say, a good ten feet away from the open door, in as loud a voice as I can muster.
'Bonjour' replies the short farmer as he pops out of the door grinning as he always does, squinting and nodding his head ,
'Ca va ?' I ask very nervously, looking at the still steady stream of blood flowing inches away from my feet.
'Yes, he replies, we have just killed our pig.'
'In the kitchen', I ask incredulously. Their pig was huge, the size of a small horse,
'Oh yes, the farmer replied, its the cleanest place on the farm'....

Wood smoke

Autumn is now coming to an end and winter is fast approaching. As I step outside, I inhale deeply, the magical and mystical smell of wood smoke.
The majority of houses in our part of rural Brittany are all heated by wood burning stoves and when the cloud cover is low the intensity of the glorious smell of burning oak increases. Simply wonderful.

W.I

Every year, about six or seven weeks before Christmas, the women of the village meet once a week to make small craft objects to sell at the Christmas fete which is held on the last Sunday before Christmas.

A note was put in my letter box that I should bring a pair of scissors and a paintbrush. So, I arrived with about 8 or 9 other women, at the Marie, all clutching our scissors and paintbrushes.
The President of this little group, explained the the craft for this session was to cut out a picture from a paper seviette and to glue this onto a pre-painted slate. So we set to work, cutting and sticking, and after three hours we had decorated 14 slates.

I enquired to the President, how much she would charge for each slate. I think, 2 euros, was the reply. I started to think about profitability..then stopped, this wasn't about profitability, it was about meeting, talking and exchanging gossip and if at the same time we could make a little money for the Commune, where's the harm. At least we didn't sing Jerusalem !!..

The ants have gone underground

A fabulously cold morning, minus 6 degrees and a very very hard white frost. The very impressive orange sunrise has now departed and in its place a bright blue sky. Everything looks so beautiful.

I have just returned from walking our dog, and I remarked on how breathtaking the sunrise had been to an old man who was on his way for his morning coffee. He merely shook his head, lent on his stick and replied, 'It is going to be a long cold winter, the ants have already gone underground'.

Conversations

This afternoon I was invited to have coffee with a lady in the village. I arrived at 2.30 and soon after me, her three sisters arrived and her mother and then her sister in law. We settled around the huge wooden kitchen table and my friends' mother, a women well into her seventies began to make crepes with great gusto.

We ate the hot sugared crepes and drank strong black sweet coffee and I listened to the fast banter between this closely knit family.

In this part of rural France the extended family is very important and few people socialize outside the close and usually very large family network. I felt very privileged to be part of this gathering.

Had I heard, the eldest sister asked me, of the sixty year old twin sisters who had just got married to two brothers (in their seventies) in the next village. They are all going to live together, she continued, much laughter followed, as the mother added that she hoped the brothers kept their eyesight as they might get their wives mixed up !!!...

New Moon

Over the last two or three years I have become increasingly aware of the moons' presence.

A couple of years ago, I leant over our garden fence to ask our elderly neighbour when I should plant my potatoes. Don't you have a calender showing the moon cycles, was the reply. I feared my Woolworths calender probably didn't include such information so I sheepishly replied, No, still not realizing what this had to do with my potatoes.

The elderly man put down his spade and disappeared indoors. He soon reappeared with a spare calender which clearly showed all the moon cycles. This information he told me was more important than the standard calender. We then sat down under an apple tree and he explained when I should sow and harvest my potatoes.

The moon also affects children's behaviour. They appear to be louder, excited and more uncontrollable when there is a full moon. It is also very common practice to give children a syrup, readily obtainable at all pharmacists, for 5 days after a full moon, to get rid of the 'worms'.

Grilled Pig

A french fete wouldn’t be a french fete, unless there was a pig being spit roasted.

It is very impressive to see a whole pig wrapped in branches of bay being slowly roasted, and it smells mouth wateringly fantastic. This with the live ‘pipe’ and accordian music sets the scene for a typical french fete. It is not long before toe tapping music entices two couples to start a complicated breton dance and before long there are fourteen couples dancing.

Bread is being baked in a traditional bread oven, sausages are being made in a tent, goats cheese is being sold from a very old van and a couple are teaching some children how to play some old Breton games.

Finally, it is mid day and the pig is now moved to a table, the chef puts out his cigarette and starts to carve. We enjoy the very succulant pork and a glass of cider.

Tidy Ditches

Three or four times a year special tractors arrive with a long ‘arm’ to cut the grass and weeds in the ditches.

It is with great skill that the tractor drivers not only drive the tractors but also operate the cutting arm which cuts the grass on the winding and uneven banks of the ditches.

When the great yellow tractors leave for the next commune, we are left with the lovely sweet smell of freshly cut grass wherever we drive, and children can fall quite happily from their bikes into the two foot ditches in full knowledge that the stinging nettles have gone away…. for a few weeks anyway !!

Fete of the Dead

Today is Toussaint, All Saints Day, a public holiday. It is a day when people visit cemeteries to remember their loved ones. Traditionally, heather and chrysanthemums are laid over the graves of relatives and friends.

All over France today, cemeteries will be awash with colourful flowers and people remembering those that have died.

Chestnuts and Cidre

Today, we have collected a basket of plump chestnuts.

The fire is dying and the chestnuts are being grilled as we sit enjoying Bach, in the semi darkness only illuminated by several small candles.

The chestnuts are blackened so are tipped into a bowl with a big handful of coarse sea salt and are left to 'cook' further under a towel.... and then finally we can enjoy the sweet chestnuts with a glass of crisp dry cidre.

Headless and Flapping

There is a small hamlet a couple of kilometres from us which has five houses and is inhabited by three widows with the average age, as they enthusiastically tell all, of 74.

As I quietly clean the windows of one of our gites listening to the birds and the occasional proud crow of a hen having laid an egg, I hear a slightly disturbing flapping sound and then an agitated cry as the flock of 19 hens is reduced to 18.

Melanie has expertly wrung the hens neck. It is now hanging and flapping uncontrollable from a tree, which is quite accustomed to having hens hanging from its low branches.

Melanie has disappeared to dig some carrots….

Why do French women never get fat ?

It is very rare to see a fat French woman..why ?

The supermarkets sell very similar products to the UK, but there are some differences, more small cakes and sweet breads are sold in France, but these are mainly for children to have as a ‘gouter’ after school. There are slso fewer crisps and chocolate bars for sale in French supermarkets.

So how do French women remain so slim ?

Breakfast usually revolves round a hot chocolate, and any number of things can be ‘dunked’ into this beverage, from bread, croissants to even camembert, so not a slimming start to the day !!.

Lunch, at mid day on the dot, is usually a three course affair, even for mothers with small children.

Four o’clock, a gouter (snack) of a cake, fruit or yoghurt

Then, the main meal at 7.30pm.

I have no answers but they all must have incredibly fast metabolisms !!

Mushrooms

The French love harvesting the wild fruits and vegetables found on the hedgerows and in the local woods and forests. At this time of year you won’t go more than a mile or two without seeing a French man or woman partaking in this national past time, foraging in a ditch for that mushroom which is just out of reach or battling with a prickly chestnut. However, at the end of the day they have a heavy wicker basket full of plump chestnuts, extremely fresh mushrooms, and crisp sweet apples. Many communes traditionally have an orchard and everyone is free to pick up the apples that fall to the ground.. there are not many apples left to rot !!

Green field sites

Our corner of rural France is changing. On 1st October 2007 the house building regulations changed, and this largely means more paperwork.. we are not surprised !!..
There is more and more building land for sale, and at between 5 and 20 euros per metre squared it is possible to find, quite literally a green field upon which to build the perfect home.
Construction companies make it easy for individuals to build their own home and each company has about 50 or 60 different house designs and layouts to suit every requirement and budget.
Therefore in theory it is possible to buy the perfect field and pick up the keys for your new house a year later.... of course making sure that you have first completed all of the paperwork, understand all the small print and have the necessary insurances in place !!

Compromis de Vente

Today we have exchanged contracts on a piece of building land. Although we have bought several houses, this is the first piece of building land we have bought and I wondered if the procedure would be the same as for bricks and mortar. This is also the first time that we have bought anything direct from a notaire (solicitors, employed by the government to act for both the vendor and the purchaser). In the past we have bought through estate agents.

We arrived at the notaires' office, an ugly building with very obtrusive pale green shutters on the out shirts of the town. We waited in the reception while the harassed receptionist answered telephone calls, tried to free the photocopier of a paper jam, dealt with a couple looking to buy a house with 3 bedrooms and a garden suitable for a dog and got up every time someone entered or left the building as the front door never seemed to close properly.

We were soon ushered into the notaires' office, a room with a high ceiling, a large window but so obscured with security bars that it lets in little light and white walls. There is very little furniture, a large desk, three chairs and an open wardrobe which is used as the filing cabinet.

We know the notaire reasonably well as we have used him in all of our previous acquisitions. The Compromis de Vente (sale agreement) is shorter than those we have signed in the past.. 7 pages rather than 13 !!... We explain that we hope, in time, to build three or four houses on the land and that we have met with the Marie, the geometre (land surveyors) and a soil testing company and they have all agreed, that in principle, this is achievable.

We ask for a clause to be inserted into the sale agreement that says that if the soil tests confirm that it is not possible to build on the land then we are not obliged to complete the sale. The notaire agrees wholeheartedly with our suggestion and goes one step further and inserts another clause that states the we are not obliged to complete the sale if it is not possible to build four houses on the land !!.

After signing each page of the Compromis de Vente, we hand over a cheque for the deposit and we were on our way, ensuring that we firmly closed the door on the way out !!

Agricultural Show..The French Way

An agricultural show is an agricultural show where ever you are.. but no, true, there are many similarities, but there are so many differences.
Today, the October mist failed to lift even by mid afternoon, but this seemed to heighten the smells, the noise and the colour at this agricultural fete in a small unknown village in rural Brittany.
A donkey, unwatched by the continual stream of people was quite contentedly ploughing a small area of the field, yet he seemed to 'sit' comfortably next to the modern ploughing equipment on show.
The colours of the gourds, pumpkins and autumnal flowers were superb and the upbeat African music penetrated everywhere.
But, the sense that was working the hardest was the smell.. roasting lamb on an open fire (the health and safety regulations must be a little more relaxed here!!), sausage galettes,couscous with garlic and peppers, bread being baked in wood fired ovens, pasta with chorizo sausage, lentil hotpots, crepes, chocolate fountains with fresh fruit kebabs....

School Governors

A notice has been posted outside the Marie for some weeks now, notifying all, of the date of the elections for the school governors for the forthcoming school year.
Well, I've done it.. I've volunteered to become a deputy school governor.

Jean Paul

A sad day. Jean Paul has died.
Jean Paul was a typical Frenchman, a short man with a stocky build, a thick black moustache and a navy blue beret.
He lived alone and was the village gardener. As the church bells chimed at mid-day, Jean Paul could always be seen making his way home on his blue mobliette with a baguette sticking out of the left hand black leather pannier.

Jean Paul was known and liked by everyone, and on his short ride home from the Marie, he would wave and nod to everyone he passed.

Today was his funeral and the whole village is sombre. Even though I did not know him personally, I too, feel a sense of loss.

Abri opening

Everyone had been invited to the opening of a large porch type construction outside the Marie building. It is really just a roof, there are no sides to this structure, but it provides shelter to those wishing to read the notices posted by the mayor, rain or shine.

We arrived at the designated tome, 11.30, but unfortunately the mayor was delayed, so the speeches didn't start until 12.15... and they didn't stop until 1.05 !!.. Five men in grey suits spoke and finally the tri-colour ribbon was cut and we all drifted out, with kir in hand to admire the new lean to.

French Plumbing

French plumbing.. the occasional whiff of a bad drain, toilets that are so unreliable that little taps are built into them to stop water constantly running through the cistern and regularly blocked drains are but a few of the many problems.

In an attempt to improve the drainage problems, a law was past a couple of years ago to tighten up on the installation of septic tanks. (Mains drainage is still not available in most rural areas) One of the aims of the new legislation is to prevent septic tanks discharging directly into the rainwater ditches, which up until now has been very common practice !!..

Following this new legislation every septic tank is being inspected, regardless of when it was installed, and if it doesn't conform to the current regulations, the homeowner must carry out the necessary works too ensure that it does.

Today, was Inspection Day. A shortish man with blonde hair in a pony tail arrived in his small van, armed with shovel, crowbar, auger and laptop. The inspection was very thorough, and then he completed his report, asking questions as to the location of the run off pipes, the filter and noting all this information on the land registry plans, who installed the tank, when, what was its volume...

Thankfully our tank passed his criteria, and he was soon gathering his now muddy equipment from the kitchen floor and was on his way to our neighbours. From the raised voices, I can now hear I don't think that inspection is proceeding as smoothly as ours !!...

L'Amicale

My first PTA meeting. For the last four years I have stepped very carefully round the tight cluster of women that run L'Amicale (Parent and Teachers Association) - but now it is time to take the plunge..

The first meeting is to discuss the school Christmas play, and how money can be raised to pay for additional school equipment or maybe a trip out for the children.

In previous years, there has been a stall selling handicrafts made by the parents, but the materials required are becoming more and more expensive that these handicrafts are almost unviable. My thoughts were that this theme could be expanded to include a cake stall, a tombola, Lucky Dip etc etc.

I tentatively mention these proposals to a couple of the other mothers, who looked mildly surprised, or perhaps it was amusement and couldn't quite understand why you would want to buy a cake to take home.. surely you could make a cake at home...

The evening of the meeting came, and it soon became quite clear that the only ideas that the small 'inner circle' really wanted were centred on the handicrafts, should we make Christmas tree decorations or paint small canvases.

At this point, I decided not to mention the 'rat in the drainpipe' game !!!!....

Accordions over lunch

Lunch out in rural Brittany. At 12.05 all the tables (some 120 covers) were taken and kir with hot smoked salmon pastries being enjoyed by all.

Today, a table of 32 family and friends were celebrating a christening, and like us were enjoying a similar meal as us, crevettes and oysters, followed by duck a la creme, then cheese and finally creme brulee accompanied by a very fine bottle of red wine !!

Whilst we were enjoying our coffee and cherry brandies, one of the christening party started to play the accordion and Monsieur le Marie began to sing a very popular Breton song. With much clapping and foot tapping the tables and chairs were moved to the edges of the restaurant, and we were shunted against the wall. Soon most of the restaurant guests, many of whom were nothing to do with the christening party were forming a circle and enjoying the very fast precise foot movements and straight backed breton dancing.

The accordion kept playing, Monsieur ls Marie kept singing and the guests kept dancing......

The Insurance Man

We have known our ‘Insurance Man’ for 8 or 9 years now and he has our trust and respect.

He has advised us well on our business and public liability insurances and the policies for our four gites, visiting them all to ensure that we are adequately insured.

Today, he arrived, having driven the 12km from our local town. ‘Is Monsieur here’, he asked. ‘No’, I reply, ‘He is at work, can I help’.

He shifts from one foot to the other. ‘You have overpaid your home insurance by 12 euros, and I have a cheque for you for the overpayment’.

‘Ah bon’, I reply, holding out my hand to take the cheque he is now very uncomfortably holding.

‘I can only give the cheque to Monsieur’ the Insurance Man explains.

I give a wry smile, the house is in my name, the cheque has been made payable to me.

‘Perhaps I can give the cheque to Monsieur’ I offer, now feeling very sorry for him.

‘No, I’m sorry’ he says still clutching the cheque in the sum of 12 euros, and he is soon gone cheerily waving from his small white car !!

Renovations

I have been watching this house renovation. This house is in the middle of the village, next to the church and up until six months ago it was just a pile of stones, with a few slates for a roof and just openings for windows. This project has been a hive of activity for french artisans, with a different van arriving almost every week, and now this house is being brought back to its former glory. The roof has been completely replaced, new velux's and other windows installed and the re pointing is almost finished.

Many of our guests who stay in our gites are keen to find that perfect french house, and it is good to know that lots do. We now have several regular clients who have bought renovation projects or building land who come back to stay in one of our gites every month or so to watch their dreams become reality.

There are still bargains to be had, just last week, a stone house requiring considerable renovation was put on the market at 12,000 euros.

Moutarde

Our neighbour, a young woman in her thirties keeps an extraordinary amount of livestock in her small, but very well kept garden.
Hens, ducks and geese all seem very content with their quality of, albeit short, life. Rabbits are the new addition and the six purpose built concrete cages are now home to eight or so young rabbits. I fear that 'Moutarde' and 'A cidre' may not be enjoying the fresh dock and dandelion leaves they currently receive on a daily basis for much longer !!

French Kissing

The local shop/ bar/ café is the centre of village life.

I watch the greeting rituals. For some its four kisses (very fast precise head movements required to ensure that the cheeks are in precisely the right place), for others two kisses and for some just one kiss, and then of course the more formal handshake.

Just as you think you have mastered who gets four kisses, who gets two etc etc.. the rules change. As you launch the top half of your body towards the left cheek for the kissing marathon, of someone that has been getting four kisses for the last six months, you are presented with a hand, so with a backward stumble you try to return the composed handshake.

A man, an acquaintance, has just arrived, as I am paying for my baguette, for his morning aperitif. I passed him a few moments ago as he was relieving himself by the side of the road. Bonjour Madame, he says as he firmly grasps my hand.. I pick up my baguette in the other hand and politely say, Bonjour Monsieur….

La Rentree Meeting

When one is anxious about an event, the reality is usually better than it was feared.
The rules of the PTA have changed... everyone is now obliged to become a member !!

The school has 29 pupils from the age of 2 to 11, and these are split into 2 classes.
Eighty five percent of the parents attended the Back to School meeting, all carrying a pen and a small notebook.
I was not disappointed, after the teachers had explained the lessons and projects for the forthcoming year and how again this year, rewards, in the form of increased responsibility would be given to those children who show respect to both their peers and the teachers, the President of the PTA began to speak. A heated and lively debate followed covering many topics, should the Summer school fete be held on a Sunday or Saturday afternoon, how much information relating to the children should be accessible on the Internet and whether the school 4 course lunches are offering enough variety. Pasta was served twice last week, and should Roquefort be offered as well as Camembert ?