It still is a guessing game to get into this bloody blog. it keeps telling me my email address doesn't exist. What the 4x is this? I have to pay and they still can't get it right.
I am in a bad mood as my faithful Renault 5 has finally died which means more expense. I am supposed to go and pick up black sheep in UK in SEptember as my consanguinous lambs are dopey. I have contacted various people and set it all in motion but now I don't have a car that pulls a trailor. If I have to rent a van or sheep moving vehicle (there must be a sheep techie name for this) the rams are going to cost a fortune. Already half my Bo-Peep plans have been sabotaged by the EU. The local abattoir will not give me the skins back so I can't sell sheepskin rugs - rather nice black jobs. Not only this they won't give me the carcasses back divvied up and in airtight wrapping so that makes the meat impossible to sell. They are eco raised and you would think that's what people would want - People do but the French gov/EU edicts seems to prevent me from selling the stuff. no wonder the super markets get all the trade. They are the only ones who can afford to obey all the crap regulations. I used to be able to tell my neighbour that I wanted a fresh chicken for Saturday and she would kill one for me. The regs are so tough that she no longer dares to do this because she doesn't have the refrigeration systems predicated by Eu. Real laugh when you think that all this shit comes out of Brussels and that the Belgians, Brits and Germans are not the ones with the reputation for good food.
Cider deliveries are going well and we have been asked to provide some for a restaurant in Rennes - where you would think that Breton cider would reign supreme. It is good but is carbonised like fizzy British cider whereas ours has natural fizz like Champagne.
Sorry the page is not better organised, folks, but the technical probs of actually finding the bugger on the web is making creativity difficult. I am so surprised to re-find the page, I forget what I want to say. Here is the start of our adventures in France - a long time ago. The Olde order changeth as Tennyson said but at least it has lasted my time, but for the first time I feel it isn't going to last. Who said that?
©Cider in my Veins
1 CUISSE MADAME
My Lady’s Thigh. The origins of this apple are unknown. It is a medium sized apple, conical or barrel shaped. Normal size, slightly striped against a bright green or pale yellow base. Non corky skin base. Found in Normandy.
Manderlay. Rebecca’s dream house – with all its spectacular, savage setting, mystery and frisson (but without Mrs Danvers!) or Mr Blanding’s Dream House or, better still, the Lost Domain of Alain Fournier’s ‘Le Grand Meaulnes’ – that is what we sped out of Paris twice a month in our XK150 to search for. We would stop for the evening in Rouen. The Hotel de la Cathedrale, right in the heart of the old quarter, gladly accepted us and our dog. We could walk everywhere. The hotel keeper gave us sound advice on which restaurants to go to and our favourite was l’Ecu de France – a four storeyed confection in half-timbering and herring-bone pattern tiling - which sat at the back of the square in which Joan of Arc was burnt. This square now also houses the fabulous fish-shaped fish market. In season, a whole wild boar and a roe-deer were suspended on either side of the entrance to the restaurant. This was too exotic for words and very ‘Vieille France’, an expression used to describe the ultra-conservative moneyed classes. The food and wine were exquisite. Of course, in the winter and spring we ate game dishes, marcassin forestier a la crème, (young wild boar with wild mushrooms and cream flamed in Calvados), or roast venison or pheasant or pigeon or hare. Need I go on? It was all succulent and finger-licking good. We had Canard Rouennais, for the first time, here. This is a specific breed of duck which is cooked in two ways. First, the duck has to be killed so as to keep the blood in it (this used to be called smothered duck inEnglish).Then the duck is roasted in a hot oven for a few minutes, next it is cut up so that the wings, breasts and drumsticks can be cooked apart. After this, the carcass is placed in a duck press and the blood is pressed out and used to thicken the sauce. The breasts are cooked in front of the client and the sauce made with red wine and the blood. The wings are roasted and the drumsticks served breaded. It is sometimes called Canard a La Presse. It is easily had in the Tour d’Argent in Paris where, at the end of the meal, you get a card with the number of your duck on it! (over 600,000 have been served since 1890 when the chef first thought of it!). They cooked a mean Sole a la Normande here too and their desserts were orgasmic. Normandy was definitely calling to us.
We had to find a place.
1 CUISSE MADAME
My Lady’s Thigh. The origins of this apple are unknown. It is a medium sized apple, conical or barrel shaped. Normal size, slightly striped against a bright green or pale yellow base. Non corky skin base. Found in Normandy.
Manderlay. Rebecca’s dream house – with all its spectacular, savage setting, mystery and frisson (but without Mrs Danvers!) or Mr Blanding’s Dream House or, better still, the Lost Domain of Alain Fournier’s ‘Le Grand Meaulnes’ – that is what we sped out of Paris twice a month in our XK150 to search for. We would stop for the evening in Rouen. The Hotel de la Cathedrale, right in the heart of the old quarter, gladly accepted us and our dog. We could walk everywhere. The hotel keeper gave us sound advice on which restaurants to go to and our favourite was l’Ecu de France – a four storeyed confection in half-timbering and herring-bone pattern tiling - which sat at the back of the square in which Joan of Arc was burnt. This square now also houses the fabulous fish-shaped fish market. In season, a whole wild boar and a roe-deer were suspended on either side of the entrance to the restaurant. This was too exotic for words and very ‘Vieille France’, an expression used to describe the ultra-conservative moneyed classes. The food and wine were exquisite. Of course, in the winter and spring we ate game dishes, marcassin forestier a la crème, (young wild boar with wild mushrooms and cream flamed in Calvados), or roast venison or pheasant or pigeon or hare. Need I go on? It was all succulent and finger-licking good. We had Canard Rouennais, for the first time, here. This is a specific breed of duck which is cooked in two ways. First, the duck has to be killed so as to keep the blood in it (this used to be called smothered duck inEnglish).Then the duck is roasted in a hot oven for a few minutes, next it is cut up so that the wings, breasts and drumsticks can be cooked apart. After this, the carcass is placed in a duck press and the blood is pressed out and used to thicken the sauce. The breasts are cooked in front of the client and the sauce made with red wine and the blood. The wings are roasted and the drumsticks served breaded. It is sometimes called Canard a La Presse. It is easily had in the Tour d’Argent in Paris where, at the end of the meal, you get a card with the number of your duck on it! (over 600,000 have been served since 1890 when the chef first thought of it!). They cooked a mean Sole a la Normande here too and their desserts were orgasmic. Normandy was definitely calling to us.
We had to find a place.
No comments:
Post a Comment