Folded napkins

Once or twice a year our children have their lunch at the school canteen. Today is one of those days. Just as we are about to leave laden down with school bags, sport bags and library books, my 6 year old daughter asks..’Do we have napkins ?’.

‘Would a piece of kitchen roll be OK’, I ask hopefully.

She shuffles her feet. ‘ All the other children have napkins.’ She mutters.

I race to the linen cupboard and eventually emerge triumphantly with two napkins. She gives me a watery smile. ‘What’s wrong ?’ I ask.

‘Well, they aren’t ironed, all the other children have nice folded napkins, and some even have a wooden ring.’ I return, now feeling rather desperate to the linen cupboard. ‘ I am sure Grandma ironed some napkins when she was here’, she adds helpfully.

At last, right at the bottom of the cupboard I find two crisply ironed napkins.

My daughter looks relieved and I bundle them quickly in the car, before she asks if we have any wooden rings to go round the napkins !!..

Don't crash with your Partner !

Mark and I have crashed both of our cars today ..We crashed into each other !!. Tight bend, icy road and what a noise of crashing metal.

Photo’s were taken to the insurance brokers and we were told that only one car was covered as under French insurance law when a husband and wife are involved in the same accident only one car is covered.

So the moral of the story is don’t crash with your Partner !!

La Maison Verte

Out latest gite, La Maison Verte is now finished !!
Mark has transformed the dingy earth floored 'house' with no electricity and water into a lovely house. Yesterday evening I caught him looking browsing the internet for another wreck ..ah, he said, I've put an offer in on this one..what do you think !!

Beef Bourguignon

The next event on the Village calendar is the Boeuf Bourguignon evening. A meeting was held at the village hall yesterday evening to discuss practicalities.. the starter, eventually pate and beetroot was agreed upon, then the Beef Bourguignon, cheese of course and then a selection of cold deserts.

Cutlery seemed to cause the most discussion. Should guests be asked to bring their own knife and fork, thus reducing the amount of washing up ? A long debate followed and I’m not quite sure if a conclusion was reached.

Then, the thorny question.. what time should the starter be served ?. Again, two very different schools of thought emerged. One opinion was that aperitifs would be served from 7.30 until 8.00 and then everyone sits down and the meal starts at 8.00pm. One woman looked in horror at this proposal, ‘But all the guests may not have arrived by 8.00, and it is terribly rude to start eating before everyone is seated’.

We probably won’t start eating until 10.00pm and it could be a messy affair if there are no forks !!

Cups and wardrobes

If you look carefully in the corner of many, if not all, French restaurants you will see a large wardrobe. I’ve always been curious as to what could possibly be kept in these wardrobes, surely not clothes. Over the years, I have seen waitresses approach these wardrobes, and inside I now know is where they keep the cutlery and crockery. Mystery solved. I have visited several French homes and some kitchens also have wardrobes to store crockery, but it is more common for the French to store their mugs and plates in a chest of drawers. There are even specially adapted chests of drawers to house shoes and wellingtons. I am now wondering where they keep their clothes….

Galettes and Cider

A tradition. The mother with the oldest child in the school invites all the other mothers, that aren’t working, to her house one afternoon in January to share a Galette des Rois. This year was my first time to one of these events. Do I need to take anything, I asked a friend.. ‘We usually all take a bottle of cider, a sweet cider not a dry one’ she replied.

That afternoon was yesterday, and I along with ten other mothers arrived at Chez Veroniques’ at 1.30. We sat round the huge kitchen table that is present in every French kitchen, and then started my toughest test yet in the French language !!.. Ten women, all talking very rapidly recounting stories and gossip. Much concern was voiced about a little boy, whose family who have chickens living in their kitchen, who has been expelled from the school in the neighbouring village and he starts our school next week. Another mother, is having problems with her dog, who keeps taking her neighbours underwear from her washing line..unfortunately one of the women misheard and thought her husband was taking the underwear…

Three hours quickly passed, the Galette des Rois eaten, the cider drunk and once again I was grateful to experience a little more of the French culture and slowly, very slowly, I am being accepted.

Checking your ditches

7.30am. Darkness, complete darkness..there is no light at night only that given by the moon and stars, but this morning the cloud cover provided no such light. The rain and the wind have been unrelenting for three days now, many local rivers have burst their banks, roads are flooded and fields have become huge ponds. It must have been the wind banging the shutters. But no, again, there was a knock at the door, this time it was harder and louder.

It was Bernard, the commune gardener and his green tractor with its flashing yellow light. ‘Can I speak to your husband,’ he asks. Mark, gives his freshly laid poached eggs a backward glance and disappears into the rain, wind and darkness with Bernard.

Eventually they return, Coffee, I ask. Bernard declines..too busy he says. In this weather, I reply.

‘Why yes, these weather conditions are perfect for checking that all the ditches and drains are working properly’ he says as he smiles, waves and disappears in the green tractor with the yellow light flashing impatiently.

A Midday Lunch ?

The church bell rings at midday, and we all stop for lunch. Everyone stops for lunch at midday. There are no staggered lunch breaks. Offices and shops close for two hours at midday for lunch.

This part of the French culture has crept up on me over the last four years, and at first I struggled and even fought against having lunch at the same time as everyone else. I would make my husband a packed lunch, even though he worked only 20 minutes away, and I would sometimes eat my lunch at 11.30, and sometimes at 2.00pm but NEVER at midday. But slowly it has taken hold of me and now I positively enjoy our family lunches.

My husband now always comes home from work and our children from school at midday and when the church bell rings we, like everyone else have a proper hot meal. Now, I would feel cheated if I had to hurry my way through a Pret a Manger sandwich at my desk !!

Fascination for Fish

Having so enjoyed the fresh Oysters a couple of days ago, it has become increasingly apparent that fish is a very important part of the Breton diet.

The fish counters are usually stand alone and are regularly situated at the front of the supermarket, so as soon as you escape from the revolving doors you are propelled towards a marvellous array of fresh fish.

The salty smell of the sea is ever present and who can resist a kilo of large fresh prawns for 5 euros ?

Pick your own Oysters ....for free !!

Yesterday was fabulous day. Blue sky, bright sunshine and a slight breeze. A perfect day for a trip to the coast. We arrived just as the tide was going out..and the car park was almost full. Along with everyone else we changed into our wellies, put on coats, hats and scarves. I looked around..everyone had buckets and strange metal claw like tools. We had no such tools, but thankfully we did have buckets…so we followed the ever increasing throng of beachcombers with our buckets.

They were all heading for the emerging rock pools and as we watched the buckets soon became filled with oysters and mussels. The claw like tools were used to prise the mussels from the rocks. So we too filled our buckets with the lovely fresh oysters.

After a very enjoyable morning we were soon back home and having oysters for lunch !!

Is the Mayor really necessary ?

The village annual newsletter (La vie commumnal) has just been hand delivered by the Marie’s deputy. Each year we receive a newsletter (small book !!) which details everything that has been achieved by the commune (the Marie !!) and a summary of the commune’s expenditure, right down to how many envelopes have been purchased !!.

Our Marie is up for re-election in 2008, so this years’ newsletter is even longer and more upbeat than usual, but to be fair he has achieved a great deal in the last 4 years. It is a small commune, of 300 people, and this supports a Marie, two deputies, a secretary and a small school.

The Marie is very proactive, he has changed the circulation of a very major road which runs through the middle of the village, by introducing a huge roundabout which has successfully slowed down the traffic, introduced mains drainage to the houses in the centre of the village and released significant chunks of commune land for housing.

As well as organising and co-ordinating these major projects, the Marie is responsible for settling minor disagreements between rivalling families which have been rumbling on for generations, land disputes (of which there are numerous !!) and all other feuds that exist in a small community.

Not a job for the weak hearted and I hope that he is successful in becoming re-elected later this year.

A health book....for a dog ?

Tess, our dog has been to see the vet. The vetinary clinic is in a very smart modern building, not a place you feel comfortable taking a sick dog.. as I sit in the waiting room searching for some evidence of animal hair on the highly polished floor I caught myself wondering if I had a plastic bag, should Tess be sick.. and if she were, would she oblige and be sick in a bag…

I am being called to Consulting Room 3. The vet weighs Tess, looks at her teeth, all the usual things and then asks to see her Carnet de Sante (health book).

‘A health book for the dog’, I repeat incredulously.. ‘I have such books for my children but for the dog, No’.

‘Then, you must have one’ says the vet, and Tess now has her own Carnet de Sante !!..

Galette des Rois

The Galette des Rois (Kings cake) is one of my favourite French traditions. The Galette des Rois is a scrumptious cake of puff pastry stuffed with frangipane, where only refined almond powder is used.

Inside of the Galette is placed a small ‘feve’, the prize, which usually is a small ceramic figurine which I am amazed is still permitted as these could easily be swallowed or at the very least break a tooth !!..

The tradition.

1.Gather family and friends around a table.

2.The youngest person then crawls under the table.

3.The oldest (or the most honest !!) person then acts as distributor.

4.The distributor then cuts the galette into slices and the person under the table nominates who should be served each slice.

5.The person who finds the ‘feve’ is the King and wears the crown !!

Although traditionally this cake is eaten on 6th January, I usually start eating them on Boxing day!!.. Our local boulangerie has this year introduced a scheme, whereby if you buy 5 Galettes des Rois before 6th January you can have a free one, so I can't be the only one who adores these cakes !!