Spring/Summer,
Food, Garden: Ruminations
A week ago I was
thinking that summer was already here, a thought immediately
overturned by several days of wind, storm and rain. The weather even
managed to dump a large precipitation of snow on the summit of Mont
Ventoux, which had been clear of snow for many weeks until now. The
road from the ski station to the summit should have been opened
yesterday and I wonder whether a snow plough was sent up to clear it
but don't think I'll go up to find out.
Anyway, if it is not
definitely summer yet it soon will be, a certainty that I never had
in England. Summer never arrives there until June at the earliest
and some years seems to forget to arrive ar all. Yesterday, the 1st
of May, is a holiday here, as it now is in England. Traditionally,
in France, you give a sprig of Lily of the Valley to your loved ones
on May 1st, which I think is a rather charming tradition, much more
impressive to me than the traditional Russian military parades. If
the Russians must have military parades perhaps they could decorate
the armaments with sprigs of Lily of the Valley; it would provide a
nice counterpoint.
Unlike Britain, the
French still have Whitsun as a holiday. The State and religion may
be rigidly separated here but the French still hang on to the
religious holidays. I view that not as inconsistent but rather as
evidence of a strong regard for the quality of life: keep the best
bits of everything and to hell with logic if it gets in the way.
The group of us
playing boules in Buis yesterday afternoon was approached by an
American woman wanting to know where there was a food shop open.
Deciding her mangled French might be better served by someone who
understood American, the group directed her to me and I had to listen
to her mangled English. There had been supermarkets open for a few
hours in the morning (a new development on holidays here) but she
would have to wait for today. In England there would almost
certainly have been a corner shop run by Asians open to serve her.
She suggested half-heartedly that she and her friends might come to
my house to eat but I uncharitably pointed out the large number of
cafe/restaurants open. I expect she experienced culture shock but
that would have been coming anyway. The French take their holidays
(and lunch hours) very seriously, as she will find out.
In the
meantime..…..….…..…...I have to do something about my own
food shopping. I usually entertain friends a couple of times per
week and had decided to cook pork belly for one evening. I cook it
to death, very slowly, so that the fat dissolves and it ends up all
meat and crackling. I found it in the small supermarket in Buis,
which has a very good butcher. Having asked for that I noticed that
they had lamb neck chops at a very reduced price and immediately
thought «lamb stew». Given the weather, that seemed appropriate so
I bought a number of those. Which means that one or the other has to
go in my freezer. In England I only ever had a fridge-top freezer
but friend Jo persuaded me I would need a bigger one here, which I
duly bought. Now I'm finding that large freezers are like a
self-fulfilling prophecy, subject to something like Parkinson's Law:
the space available always gets filled. It gets filled because I
have a life script learned from my mother, who was always short of
money and had me to feed, that you grab a food bargain when you see
one. The result? A freezer always full. This is in a place that
still has greengrocers, butchers, bakers (and scented-candle makers)
and more fresh food widely available than I ever had in England, when
I had only a fridge-top freezer. Something has to give; I have some
unlearning to do.
My garden, front and
back, is coming on nicely (see photos) although the roses in bloom
have taken rather a battering from the rain. Four of the clematis in
the front are now in bloom and I've managed to extend, or rather
deepen the earth, on the roadside opposite my kitchen window and have
planted more lavendar, some allium bulbs and rambling nasturtiums to
supplement what was already there.
The irises there have more or
less finished blooming but a Nellie Moser clematis is full of bloom
and the Dublin Bay rose against one of the trees is adding to the
colour. I'm hoping the deeper earth will allow the additions to
survive when the high-summer heat hits. On the hillsides around, the
irises and coronilla that have been regaling us have just over the
last few days been joined by the broom, which will extend the yellow
panorama for another couple of months.
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