My memories of the southwest are cemented by Uncle Jacqui’s rustic, hearty meals, always cooked in duck fat and involving at least one type of game each visit.
Almost every meal, we start with a crunchy, sweet salad from the garden — of tomatoes and non-spicy green chilli the Landes region is famous for.
This time he surprised us, with some roasted duck wings one evening. Who would have thought I would chance upon a taste of Chaozhou in this corner of the French countryside thousands of miles from home ?
Chance brocantes, chance buys and so my hunt for mismatched coquetiers is finally over ! Speaking of brocantes, we’ll be setting up stall this Sunday for the very first time with the parents of our good friend who are old brocante hands. We’ll be selling knick-knacks from the mother-in-law’s basement and whatever I can gather around our apartment that we have no use for as this was quite a last-minute decision. Looking forward to browsing the wares at other stalls, not looking forward to the 6.30am setup time.
Lyon last month on what’s probably the hottest day of the year. I was so drowsy after lunch (side track: unbelievably amazing carpaccio de boeuf, so delicate it resembles lace) we had to stop for a nap in a random park. Can’t say I know the city well even though I’ve popped by numerous times ever since my first visit to France. We usually spend our days with the family and ate very well, more often than not, at home.
Back in Paris and I’m trying to hold out for a few more weeks of sun amid a sea of people in light jackets and long sleeves. Sometimes this comes in the form of petulantly wearing my espadrilles regardless of the grey skies and afternoon showers.