French food served in a gamelle

Gamelle: Lunch pail; mess tin; billy can

Although I picked up this red gamelle in an antique fair a few years ago I didn't ever expect to actually eat from one. I mean, a million years ago, Laura Ingalls took her lunch to school in one, but I didn't think you'd find them in use anywhere anymore. Apparently you put the soup in the bottom section and the bread and sundry items in the top.

Dining in Pau, Pyrénées-Atlantiques

On Friday last we dined in Restaurant Le Pilota in Pau. It's situated in the sports' complex, overlooking the pelote basque courts (although they were preparing for a badminton tournament at the time.) The setting is modern and chic but the food is traditional.

La Musette du Jour

I ordered the set menu (served weekday lunchtimes, it consists of a starter, a main, a dessert, a 1/4 bottle of wine and a coffee - all for 13 euro) and the waiter arrived with my lunch bag and hung it over the back of my chair.



Opening it up it revealed the lunch pail, the wine, a bread roll, a couple of slices of saussisson, a Paris-Brest in tinfoil.

 

 

The first tier contained the starter - a slice of quiche...

...the second revealed the main course - hake and king prawns in creamy sauce...

... and the third, cauliflower and cheese,  although I'd lost the run of myself at that stage and forgot to take any more photos. Sorry!

Worth swinging by - all was delicious.

Find La Musette du Jour on facebook

Flooding in the Gers

Most overseas visitors to the south west of France come in the summer months. It looked very different this weekend.

After a pleasant and dry January, the rain returned during the week and, combined with mild temperatures and melting snow, put pressure on the waterways this weekend.

Friday night brought flooding to several departments and Saturday night it was our turn in the Gers.

There were over 200 call-outs to the fire brigade in the Pyrenées-Atlantiques department during the day, but, although we heard the orange alert, we didn't expect it to hit so quickly.







Our village is straddled by the Arros and the Adour.










At 6pm (the water level was at 2.3m) we went out to dinner (to the excellent Eléphant Thai in Riscle), noting as we passed through Tasque on the way home that their tennis courts were flooded. When we got home the field opposite our house had been filling up rapidly. By midnight the levels were at 3.75 m.



In real terms it meant that, only for the raised road in front of our house that acted like a dam, we would have been flooded. As it was many of the houses and businesses on our side of the river were badly affected.



During Sunday the water receded fairly quickly and we breathed a sigh of relief. But it has started raining again now (Sunday evening) and the department is on orange alert until Monday afternoon.




It's frightening how quickly the water rises and how little anyone can do. We watched the firemen standing powerless on the bridge last night as we stood in front of our house wondering what to bring upstairs and expecting to be woken in the middle of the night to the sound of water gushing through the house. It didn't happen. Another 20 cms and it would have been up to our eyeballs. Hoping tonight the levels don't rise again. And thinking of those who have been affected.

 

Review: Le Petit Prince by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry

Le Petit Prince by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry is a French classic in children's literature. One of the first books I read in French I always enjoy revisiting.

 The narrator's plane goes down in the Sahara. He is alone and has only enough water for eight days. He wakes after the first night to the sight of a small boy with a surprising request: 'Dessine-moi un mouton.' (Draw me a sheep.)

He first draws a picture he drew when he was a child: an elephant that had been eaten by a boa constrictor. He drew this when he was six years old but the adults couldn't understand it and discouraged him from drawing and using his imagination. The little prince understands what he has drawn but insists on a sheep, which he wants to bring back to his home.

 For eight days, the boy tells his remarkable story: where he is from (the narrator figures out later on that he must have been referring to the asteroid B612), his life there tending to his volcanoes and his rose, and why he left his tiny planet to visit the Earth. He tells stories about his adventures: He met a king, a conceited man, a merchant and a wise fox who taught him about trust and friendship and made him realise that his Rose who he left on his home planet is unique.

A charming story, complemented by the author's whimsical drawings, we can't help being drawn into the world of the little prince.

Futuroscope

Futuroscope, near Poitiers in France, has a Petit Prince attraction that is both touching and fun. We visited this last year to the delight of both adults and kids. It's a 3D attraction with vibrating platforms and some sweet special effects.

 

'Discover the all-new adventures of The Little Prince in this special “Futuroscope edition” of the tale, complete with stunning sensory effects in an immersive theatre. Fly with him from planet to planet in search of the Rose.'

 

About the Author

Antoine de Saint-Exupéry was a French pilot and writer.  His other books include Vol de Nuit (Night Flight), Courrier sud (Southbound Mail), and Pilote de guerre (Flight to Arras). Antoine de Saint-Exupéry disappeared during a World War II air battle over Corsica. His plane was finally located off the coast of Marseilles in 2004. He appeared on the 50-franc banknote until the introduction of the euro.

 

 

 

 

 

Jazz in Marciac (3) Joe Cocker and Todd Unctious

Joe Cocker was one of the big acts this year and he played to a packed marquee. Even better than I remember, when he came to Marciac in 2007.  At 69 years of age he can still belt them out.

Warm-up act was Canadian Kellylee Evans. She has a powerful voice, mixed a little hip hop with jazz to interesting results, and she managed to charm the audience by speaking excellent French.

  

And Joe. What to say about Joe? Able to send a thrill down your spine from the other end of a rugby pitch. He sang a good few songs from his new 'Fire it up' album, but loads of the oldies as well--You can leave your hat on, With a little help from my friends, Unchain my heart, and the heart-stopper, You are so beautiful. What a show.

 

  

First time I noticed the physical similarity with Todd Unctious from Father Ted, must have been the black clothes!



So I feel obliged to link to a clip from Father Ted. No disrespect Joe!



Here's Mrs Doyle's list (copied from this blog I found while searching the very subject.

Fr. Andy Riley,
Fr. Desmond Coyle,
Fr. George Byrne,
Fr. David Nicholson,
Fr. Declan Lynch,
Fr. Ken Sweeney,
Fr. Neil Hannon,
Fr. Keith Cullen,
Fr. Ciaran Donnelly,
Fr. Mick McEvoy,
Fr. Jack White,
Fr. Henry Bigbigging,
Fr. Hank Tree,
Fr. Hiroshima Twinkie
Fr. Stig Bubblecard,
Fr. Johnny Hellzapoppin’ ,
Fr. Luke Duke,
Fr. Billy Ferry,
Fr. Chewy Louie,
Fr. John Hoop,
Fr. Hairycake Linehan,
Fr. Rebulah Conundrum,
Fr. Peewee Stairmaster,
Fr. Jemima Racktool,
Fr. Jerry Twig,
Fr. Spodo Komodo,
Fr. Cannabranna Lammer.
Fr. Todd Unctious
YES!!!!!

And no, Kellylee is nothing like Mrs Doyle.

Jazz in Marciac (2) Wynton Marsalis and Mr Bean

 

 

 

At JIM (Jazz in Marciac) festival, we're so chilled out we're horizontal (of course, that may be the heat and the wine but one can't be sure.)

The godfather of the festival, the trumpeter Wynton Marsalis, was pure class. Playing with his quintet: Walter Blanding (saxophone), Carlos Henriquez (bass), Ali Jackson (drums) and Dan Nimmer (piano), this was the first of his two appearances at the festival.  He has played every year at JIM since 1991 and there's even a statue of him in the village. Here's his Marciac Suite album.

 

 

There's something very unassuming about him, but he's adored by the festival organisers, especially due to the work he puts into the teaching of jazz, passing on the tradition. I wish I had access to the masterclasses that my daughters have been attending.

 

  

We couldn't help thinking of Mr Bean at the Olympics when we watched Dan Nimmer on the piano (sorry Dan!)

 

 

 

So I have to add that clip which still makes me laugh. 

  

 



Jazz in Marciac (1) Esperanza Spalding and Wayne Shorter

 

 

Jazz in Marciac

For the 36th year running, the tiny village of Marciac in the Gers department of France opens its shutters to some of the jazz greats. It's amazing to see the village square turned into a huge stage and musicians playing in every café and corner.










Restaurants pop up everywhere and visiters can sample some of the specialties of this region of France, notably foie gras and Saint Mont wine. Duck and Armagnac are on the menu too.

















The huge square in the centre of the village hosts the 'off' festival. My daughter, a student at the local collège, will perform here. The collège specialises in jazz and students spend five hours a week working those improvisations.

 

 

I love the juxtaposition of crisp white sails and colombage buildings, plastic chairs and ancient stone.

 

 

 

 

 

 

And of course the real stars who perform in the two big venues every evening--the chapiteau and l'Astrada. So far we've seen Marcus Miller, Esperanza Spalding, Wayne Shorter, and looking forward to many more over the next couple of weeks.

Hard to take good photos in the chapiteau, but here's Esperanza Spalding, a cool lady on the double base with an amazing voice...

... and Wayne Shorter, celebrating his 80th birthday this year, and a legend on the sax.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 



Rain and cherries

I was going to write a post about the incessant rain we've been experiencing here in France since about January, but instead I'm going to put up a couple of photos of the produce of my cherry tree.

A month ago:



and today:

 

 

We've had clafoutis. We've had bowls of fresh cherries. We've had an interesting rhubarb and cherry tart. Hopefully we'll have lots of jam if the birds stick to the deal and only take the cherries from the top that we can't reach.

 

But, back to the subject of the weather...

 

The slugs are having a ball. Can't you just savour how delicious my hosta must have been.

 

 

 

Usually at this time of the year I'm busy weeding, digging, sowing (last year I grew everything from seed) but this year, nada. I haven't sowed a single tomato plant yet. Could this be a summer sans tomates? I have no potager for the first time in years.

 

 

So I ran around the garden a couple of weeks ago to see what was growing. These beautiful roses and campanules:

 

...apples, chives, garlic, gooseberries, kiwis...

 

 

I really hope to update this with better news in a few weeks. And I have to admit, the bad weather is good for my writing.

Salon de la Caricature, Marciac

The caricature and drawing festival took place this weekend in Marciac in the Gers, France. A small festival in its 11th year, it was the first time I went along.

Marciac is already well-known for its jazz festival every August. The village (1,300 inhabitants) hosts an international jazz festival that welcomes over 200,000 visitors every year. This year we have tickets for Joe Cocker #cantwait.

Some of the cartoonists visited the local schools on Friday and thus, we were harrassed into attending by a 10 year old who loves drawing.

I had my caricature done, of course. A great likeness I'm told. The artist was Kaya and she was enjoying her first visit to Marciac. The banter among the artists was entertaining.

A child at the table next to mine told the artist 'If you mess up, it's OK, cause I got Kaya to draw me earlier.' She was about six.

But I did wonder what's in it for them?

They sat for three days and drew and drew for no monetary gain(afaik).

It made me think of all the writers who spend hours slogging over a piece of flash fiction or a short story or a poem only to publish it in their blog or website. A lot of work to give art away for free. Yet I was so impressed with my cartoonist I will certainly seek out her work and perhaps buy some in the future.

It rains so much in England...

Found on a packet of McVitie's Digestives sold in France...

'It rains so much in England that the English rush towards McVitie's for comfort.'

 

Now who uses Digestives to make trifle?

... and who dips Digestives in tea at breakfast?

 

I don't know those people, but then I'm Irish, so maybe I just haven't grasped the true purpose of Digestives at all, at all.

 

Also, I note the French don't call them 'Digestives'. Then again, a 'digestif' is more like this:

 

 

Any English experts on McVitie's? We need to get to the bottom of this.

Becerrada

 
Our orchestra played this weekend at the becerrada in the warm March sunshine. 

Bullfighting is traditional in this part of France. Even small villages have an arena. The event was the becerrada where the baby bulls learn the ropes, and the younger matadors as well. No animals were hurt (or killed) although I'm sure the first bull gave a sigh of relief when they let him back in to his Mammy, who was waiting patiently. Wine and Armagnac was had by all (well, not the bulls--they're underage!)

Back to the desk tomorrow morning:
Delighted to see my recent flash fiction piece 'Just working on my tan...' has been published in The Galway Review

Crusty bread and a jug of wine

One of my favourite restaurants is hidden away in a hilltop village, with 350 inhabitants. And all along the street under the arcades flanked by a 14th century castle, and a 16th century covered market, there are mismatched and rickety tables and countless diners happy to spend a long afternoon in the dappled sunshine.

There’s no menu. On the table, they place a big pot of soup, usually a wholesome garbure, full of cabbage, meat, beans and goodness. The entrée is a platter of cold meats, salad, and hard-boiled eggs, or sliced tomato, Bayonne ham and melon in summer. A big basket of crusty bread, a jug of water, and a jug of table wine complete the first uninterrupted hour. 

The waiter eventually takes the order for our meat. It's served on a large platter, with garlic potatoes or chips or French beans or whatever vegetables are in season, and probably picked in their own garden. The region provides plenty of beef, veal, pork and, above all, duck. We don’t count calories around here, but they say that the particular combination of duck fat and red wine is the secret of the locals' longevity.

Dessert is ice cream or fruit. The fruit comes in a huge basket with a plate and a knife. Help yourself.

12€ for the 4-course set meal, including wine. Where is this paradise? In the picturesque village of Bassoues.