Fried Brains

This is not a food post (you may be relieved to see) but a Simon Post.

My head hurts. I mean REALLY hurts...

I have a three channel brain - that is, I can think, in depth, about three things at once. At the moment it is not enough for what I am trying to do; for that I would need a multichannel broadband brain with added brainy bits.

The bathroom is my first thought. I think I have chosen tiles, shower base, shower unit, shower screen and mirrors. I am still pondering lighting (but am seriously considering an array of daylight LED lamps in the ceiling); the toilet - possibly the 2nd from bottom (as it were) cost wise although having a Villeroy et Boch appeals; and the hand basin (I know what I want but I would have to make it myself I think) which means I can't choose the taps until I know what sort of handbasin it will be. This is added to the business with building the bathroom floor and having to do carpentry. At least I have decided how to do the carpentry; I will be over-engineering it by a factor of at least three. Eventually it should (with any luck) look sort of like this:

I will start calling this the shower room - there is just no room for a bath in there.

And, of course, there is another bathroom to do - an en-suite off the second bedroom. This one will have a bath (but no shower) a WC and a basin. The reason for not having a shower is that it is in what used to be the "too small to use as a third bedroom" and has really nice chestnut wooden floors which we want to keep. This means trying to keep splashage down to a minimum - and trying to work out the best method of sealing the boards. At the moment I am leaning towards wax, because we don't want a plastic looking varnish on them.

The second bathroom, from the second bedroom.
Note the freshly glazed and painted windows

Hopefully we can come to an arrangement for all this whereby we buy the fittings and do the water in bit, and the plumber does the drainage. Double hopefully we can arrange that this happens within the next 6 - 8 weeks. This means I have to do the carpenter thing soon.

The second strand which occupies me is the electricity. I have to work out exactly where I want all the electrical fittings - power points, light switches, lights, telephone points, TV aerial points, computer network points and the large fixtures like the oven, washing machine, fridge and dishwasher. I also have to learn to do satellite TV stuff and LAN computer networking. All this has to go behind the walls

I have decided I want very few overhead lights. All the rooms will be lit by a number (probably 4 or 5) smallish low energy wall mounted up-lighters on two circuits, with additional standard lamps in the lounge. This is only the start - being France and not England, I have a choice of plugs and switches. I would really like the anodised aluminium ones, but can we afford them and should we have a different, co-ordinated colour in each room??

Then there is heating. We have decided on a wood burning fire (a Poêle à bois) in the front room, which will hopefully heat most of the ground floor. We will combine this with a heat distribution box attached to the flue to warm the upper rooms. Im addition we would like some sort of eco-heating - either geo-thermal or aqua-thermal. My current thinking is that we do this and miss out on the underfloor heating, installing high efficiency "baseboard" radiators. These are heated and vented skirting boards. Not quite as aesthically pleasing (or toasty on the toes) but a lot cheaper, quite discreet, and it doesn't involved taking up all the floors and tiles. I would also like either solar hot water or photo-voltaic electricity generation (or even both) to be really green, but can we arrange all this in time and within budget? It would certainly save money in the long run and we are wondering the economics of spending money to have almost no electricity or heating bills in future. Of course, any piping will have to go behind the walls

Then there is the Kitchen. Don't get me started on kitchens. So many choices, every single one of them wrong.

Please, really, don't get me started on kitchens. Not yet....

And the first person to mention secondry glazing for traditional French windows will be sent to the naughty step for the next billion years.

Apart from that? Yeah - I'm happy :¬)

Gluten Free Travel in France

[Guest post by John, who is married to Susan's sister. We hope that this post will also appear as an article in the Coeliac Society of Australia's magazine in due course.]

John enjoying a fabulous meal in the Arcachon Basin

In Aug-Sep 2008 my wife and I spent 4 weeks travelling in Scotland and France. I have been a coeliac for 8 years and this was our first overseas trip where we did our own shopping and cooking.

Prawn coconut mango entrée
at le Relais des Cinq Châteaux, near Marqueyssac

In France our 2½ weeks was spread between 4 areas – a few days with family in a country village in the Loire Valley, a few days at a B&B (called chambres d’hôte) near Bordeaux in the south west, a week in the Dordogne in a gîte (= fully furnished place where you self-cater) and a few days in a hotel in Paris.

Foie gras icecream entrée
at le Relais des Cinq Châteaux, near Marqueyssac

At most of these places we self-catered. Even the B&B ended up with a kitchenette, so we did our own thing. We visited many good-sized supermarkets, none of which had any gluten free specialities except rice cakes, which was very disappointing after our success in Scotland. Near the end of our trip we visited a huge supermarket called Auchan that had a delicious range of gluten free biscuits, but no pasta, bread etc. Luckily I had some left-overs from Scotland because I was getting tired of rice cakes and jam for breakfast and rice cakes and tomato and cheese for lunch. Since the supermarkets were so poor my sister-in-law suggested we try a health food shop to look for gluten free specialties. We were half way through our journey before we found one of these and they had all sorts of goodies – pasta, breakfast cereal, bread etc. I am sure they are more common than our experience – but it was the only one we noticed although we didn’t spend our holiday looking in town after town hoping to find a “Bio Co-op”.

Obviously the catering at home or picnic lunches were no problem other than shopping for specific gluten free specialities. One night we ate at the local hotel in my sister-in-law’s village, Preuilly-sur-Claise. The owner spoke good English and following an explanation of my requirements we had a wonderful 3 course meal with GF choices and it was great value too (about 25 euros each, including drinks). We also had a couple of lunches in cafés. My sister-in-law speaks [a bit of] French and explained what I could and couldn’t have. One of them was a very nice 3 course meal and was only 13 euros. I got a bit worried when my plate was whisked away soon after starting to eat because the kitchen realised it had done something wrong – a new plate (looking just the same mind you) was delivered soon after with a stream of apologies. These experiences are both good and bad. On the one hand it spoils your afternoon while you wonder if they got it right – but they did, I didn’t get sick. And on the other hand, you feel confident that they are paying attention to your request, albeit slowly, and will own up to a mistake. This experience was not unique to France – they were able to whisk away my plate in Scotland too and replace it with something similar.

We feel that we got on quite well despite our meagre language skills – nearly everyone spoke some English and was very accommodating once they realised we were trying. With my sister-in-law’s help, we made up a simpler version of the gluten free card which was successful – only twice did the kitchen find it all too scary and I ended up with an extremely bland meal.

We were advised, and we noticed it for ourselves as well, that a café will do almost the same menu for lunch at about half the price of what they charge for dinner. All the café lunches we had were really good. So if you can get yourself organised to sit down for that long at lunchtime, then this is the best value eating you can get.

The eating highlight of our trip was in the Arcachon area, which is famous for oysters, seafood and coastal tourism. We decided to try the local fare and so with guide book in hand we started deciphering the menus in the windows of some neighbouring seafood restaurants. On our second pass, a local lady could tell we were unsure of some of the dishes and she offered to help us read the menu and point out what they were made of and whether we might like them. Feeling quite reassured we headed inside. Our waitress had some English and once she understood what I needed to have, she couldn’t do enough to help us – back and forth to the kitchen offering up all sorts of options and alternate (GF) sauces. It was like pre-coeliac days where you could have one of so many things, the food was fantastic and you were confident the kitchen would get it right.

The third part of the trip was inland of Bordeaux to an area called the Dordogne. There is amazing history and scenery here with castles built by Richard the Lion Heart, the prehistoric Lascaux cave paintings, towns built on or within cliffs, magnificent gardens, numerous outdoor activities (we can recommend drifting/canoeing down the river) and the home of foie gras – so a foodie's heaven. We went to our first large markets at Saint-Cyprien to stock up again. This was a lot of fun – we picked up all sorts of olives, salamis (GF) [in French, saucisson], fruit, veg, cheeses, wine, etc. We took this home to the gîte and ate very well for many days.

Le marché, Saint-Cyprien

The daily trip to the boulangerie (bread shop with lots of pâtisseries) was torture. My wife needed a chocolat éclair or a tarte tatin, or … most days and all I could do was drool. Every shop had meringues though, and it is amazing that they can vary in flavour so much. Be careful though, you have to check each time because occasionally they said they were made with flour. In one stunning shop I asked about something I suspected might be OK. Try as we might the shop assistant couldn’t understand what we were getting at and soon disappeared out the back. When she returned she brought the chef with her whose English was perfect and he pointed out a few different things I could have. Too hard to choose, so I had the lot!

A pâtisserie in Sarlat, in the Dordogne

Paris was the least interesting foodwise as we were totally reliant on eating out. The hotel breakfasts were no good for me and perhaps because we didn’t choose places that were expensive enough the attempt we had at an evening meal was so dull we didn’t try again, being content with a nice lunch from small cafés in side streets.

I certainly won’t be shy about visiting France again and really enjoyed the culture, history and people. And while I have mentioned some of the negative side of eating, it was still only minor and you can usually get quite good food.

John

--------------------------------------------------------------------

Quick note from Simon. Citroën are relaunching a DS for the 21st century today. If this needs explaining: shame on you, but look here.

La Claise

No, not the rivière this time, but the resto.

Just recently, Dave from San Francisco commented, and mentioned how much he enjoyed dining at La Claise, down on the river in Preuilly and run by Francis, with assistance from his rather special poodle, Rustique (or possibly Lustic) Loustic. It reminded me that we had photos of Rustique Loustic which we had not posted on the blog.

La Claise is very popular at lunch time with the ticket resto brigade. In France it is a requirement that if you employ more than 6 people you must either provide a canteen or restaurant vouchers for your staff. Clotilde on Chocolate & Zucchini explains it very well. At La Claise you will get a set menu with various salads to start, a main course of fish or meat in a sauce, and a pitcher of house wine. It is good value (about 11 Euros) and substantial.

We prefer the evening menu, as at night, La Claise becomes a pizzeria, serving excellent, distinctive, French influenced, thin based pizzas cooked in a wood-fired oven. The restaurant has a large collection of old ceramic jugs hung from the beams in the ceiling, rather in the manner of an English pub, and a conservatory style dining area where you can see and be seen. The building itself used to be a petrol station, and now houses the restaurant and a hairdresser's.

Francis speaks a little English, and his standard greeting is to address Simon as jeune homme and me as mademoiselle. This exaggerated flattery is doled out to everyone, so we don't let it go to our heads. Francis is only one half of a double act though. Rustique Loustic also greets every diner personally and will graciously accept being patted or scratched for as long as you are willing to oblige. Not only will he play chase the wine bottle cork, he can also be given your order to take to the kitchen or bring you l'addition (the bill/check) at Francis' bidding.

Susan

The Border at Descartes

Twenty kilometres (twelve miles) from Preuilly sur Claise is the town of Descartes. I first went there with my mate Bryan when we were looking at houses in 2006, to have lunch and to be told that there was nothing in my price range and I was being unrealistic.

Since then I have been to Descartes a number of times, once to try and sort out my electricity, and once with Susan to try find an internet cafe when we were trying to transfer the car to our name. We have also driven through a number of times, but we have never stopped to have a look around because we are always on a mission when we head that way.

We still haven't stopped in Descartes and had a proper look around (we are told there is a good Moroccan restaurant in Descartes that used to be in Preuilly), but on the way back to Preuilly one day I did stop the car long enough to have a look at what looks like a defunct railway crossing that I had noticed but never really looked at on the road into Descartes.

It turns out it is the barrier that Barbara mention in a comment on our post about the bridge at la Guerche. So here is where the border between German Occupied France and "la Zone Libre" used to be between 15th December 1940 and 11 November 1942, the date the Germans effectively took full control of all France.

I know the inscription on the stonework looks huge (and it is), but my defence for not seeing it is that I am always driving, and although we have driven into Descartes along this road, I don't think we have ever driven out of town this way and the inscription faces the town.

Footnote: Researching this post I found an interesting note on Wikipedia - "Australia maintained, until the end of the war, full diplomatic relations with the Vichy Regime." This amazes me.

Simon

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Meanwhile in London:
This is what we woke up to today. Our trains are still running*, but the buses in central London and a fair slice of the underground aren't. Susan is going to work dressed in homage to Scott of the Antarctic, and I am staying indoors with the internet researching aqua-thermal heating. (*Susan has just got back from the station saying our trains aren't running now, so she is going to try again in a hour.)

Simon

Update: Susan got to work, but was the only person in her office to do so. As it is still snowing, she came home early. It looks pretty, but snow is for looking at, not for walking in

Poste Aux Chevaux, les Ormes

When we drive to the truffle Fair at Marigny Marmande we pass through les Ormes (which translates as "the Elms"), which appears on the map to be a fairly unremarkable town on a Route Nationale. It does have a chateau (which can't be seen from the road but is open to the public) and the most remarkably HUGE "Poste aux Chevaux" we have seen.

The only information I have managed to glean from the internet is this:

The family-run Post House at Ormes is listed as a Historical Monument. Inaugurated in 1764 by Count Argenson, the Post House at Ormes is considered as one of the most remarkable in France for its size as well as its architecture. Vast with approximately 70 metres on one side, the site corresponds to the plan of a typical Post House : majestic entrance on a driveway leading to a vast courtyard around which are located the buildings, the saddlery and the coachman's house; on the left and right of the courtyard, living quarters and hotel business, the large stables and the two smaller ones. The roof of the large stables holds the feed for the horses. In the centre of the courtyard stands a huge basin for water to refresh or bath the horses. The courtyard and stables are open for visits.

The gate to the Poste aux Chevaux

Next door is what appears to be another stable type building - and this is perhaps even more astonishing (maybe just because it has been beautifully restored/maintained). I suspect it is something to do with the chateau, which is just across the road, but I just cannot find out with the meagre resources I have at hand . Here it is though

When we visit here next time it won't be midwinter (can you believe that sky - no photoshop trickery, it really was like that) and we will get some more information and report back. The poste aux Chevaux is open in July and August and I think Susan will demand a visit.

The sundial said it was just gone 13.15 (1.30pm) when were were there taking the photo, as confirmed by the clock in the car.

The Town of Les Ormes reminded us a lot of places in Australia like Moree and Coonabarabran - a big wide main thoroughfare through a small town built just to service the route. Once transport became motorised these town really suffered - if they were lucky they became railway towns, but otherwise they are slightly deplapidated and full of faded glory.

Simon

Truffles are not the only Fruit

Susan wrote in January about our experience buying a black truffle at the Marigny-Marmande truffle fair and cooking with it. Alongside the main hall in which the truffles are sold, a large marquee is erected and filled with other local and almost local produce. For a carnivore this is (literally) hog heaven.

In the above photo you can see various local delicacies including crumbed pigs trotters (pig feet for you Southerners), Farci Poitevin (a whole cabbage stuffed with pork and sorrel pâte and simmered for hours in court bouillion), assorted pâtes and rillettes. The round pan beyond the trotters is a civet de sanglier. A civet is a game stew (in this case wild boar) traditionally made by hunters in the field, using the blood of the animal to thicken the sauce. These days they are mostly made with red wine and perhaps some minced chicken liver to give a taste and mouthfeel reminiscent of the traditional recipe. The same stall also sells boudin blanc and boudin noir in both natural and truffle laced states. (Taste bud alert!)

Boudin

There is also ham and other cured cuts of pork including bellies, which sliced thinly could make really interesting streaky bacon (I have my taste buds really excited now...) Alongside them are sold any number of varieties of saucisson sec (think French salami) including wild boar, deer, and smoked duck. We took a photo of these last year.

Just as truffles are not the only fruit, nor is pork the only meat. We were surprised by how much biche (venison – specifically hind ie female Red Deer) there was on sale. I am not sure how you cook a whole front leg of deer - I assume you roast it in a big oven or maybe on a spit over charcoal. (Taste buds have been set off again)

If you're not into meat there is usually a range of breads, dried fruits and jams. And, of course, truffles. The attractive photo below is of brioche and Tourteau Fromagé (literally a cheese crab), a kind of brioche made with goats cheese and cooked really hot at first so the top "burns". Clotilde has written about it on Chocolate & Zucchini. I really like it - Susan isn't convinced. Like the Farci Poitevin, it too is a very local regional dish.

There is also usually a stall selling snails. I can't work out if snails are meat or not, so I won't mention them. Taste buds are now back to normal, by the way.

Simon

Chateau la Boussée

No - not the Chateau at Boussay. Nor even the chateau at Bossay (because there isn't one we have found yet).

This is the Chateau la Boussée, which is on a road we have driven down many times without seeing. It is becoming evident to us that the secret to discovering new places is to drive down every road in every season - in both directions. We have driven past this four times last year: with Susan's parents; my uncle and aunt; Adrian, Caroline and Corey; and Susan's sister and brother in law - and yet never seen it, simply because each time we were heading towards Azay-le-Ferron from the Foret de Preuilly.

Head away from Azay towards Charnizay, however, and you get a glimpse of the gates. Turn down the road towards le Grand Village, and you are rewarded by this sight. You may even be rewarded with the sight of a wildcat disappearing through a hedge, which Susan thinks she might possibly have seen.

The only thing I can tell you about the chateau is that it was once a Chambre D'Hote (B&B) with fishing but doesn't appear to be one any more. This is yet another place worthy of research.

Simon


While Simon was photographing the château, I caught a glimpse of movement. A large tabby cat was trotting along the roadside ditch, then slipped off into the shelter belt of trees. Even though I had a camera in my hands, I reacted too slowly. The reason I would have liked a photo was that this might have been a rare Wild Cat, which are known to be present in the area and may even be increasing in numbers. I had seen pictures of Wild Cats, with their rather short blunt ended fluffy tails and large size. I have also seen feral cats in Australia, which some consider to be a distinct species, long established like the dingo, and not the descendents of European pets gone wild, and this beast was reminiscent of them.

Wild Cats (chat forestier in French) are a native European mammal, and not to be confused with the sort of mange-ridden scrawny feral creature seen in urban back streets and around farmyards. The Brenne is one of the few places in the world where they still exist in the wild as purebred Wild Cats and not as hybrids with domestic cats. I contacted our local wildlife warden and he told me that unfortunately there is no way of telling in the field if what you are seeing is a hybrid or a purebred, no matter how much they look like the real thing. I have added a short note on Wild Cats to our other blog, Loire Valley Nature.

Susan

Table Manners

Everyone likes to think they have good table manners, and I am no different.

The only thing I was in trouble about as a kid was wanting to sit at the table without a shirt on. This apparently, even in Australia when you're 11, is a no go. Everything else I did at the table I did quite acceptably: no elbows on the table; I tore my bread roll rather than cut it; and I even used my knife and fork in the "correct" hands. (For readers in North America, this meant my knife stayed in my right hand, my fork in the left, and I cut my food as it became needed.)

Happy people at a restaurant. It was at the end

of bath moving day - no wonder we look happy.

This stands me in fairly good stead in France, with one or two exceptions: elbows on the table aren't a problem - it means you can lean towards a conversation looking interested, and the bread roll, whilst still being torn, goes on the table rather than on your plate. In fact, you don't even get a side plate in most restaurants. To tell the truth, table manners in France aren't something they take too seriously - you aren't likely to cause serious affront as long as you're interesting.

Except for one thing.

It really isn't done to put your hands below the table. If you're from the USA and some parts of Canada, this means forgetting what your mother told you, and keeping your hands above the table. Sitting like a lady with your left hand in your lap after cutting your food isn't likely to really cause real offence (you're foreign, and probably can't help it), but all the French people at the table will spend the whole meal wondering what you're doing with that hand they can't see. Especially if you're sitting next to someone else's husband...

Simon

An Australian and Food

We have found another Australian in France. La Niortaise lives in Niort, but teaches English to university students in Poitiers. She blogs here. If you're an Australian wanting to live in France, you will find her experiences with bureaucracy and visas enlightening.

One of the items on her blog was the VGT Omnivore's Hundred, which we thought we would pass on. This gives us a chance to show two photos of items on the list we ate for Christmas Dinner.

Susan opening oysters using the wooden oyster holder

The VGT Omnivore's Hundred
1) Copy this list into your blog or journal, including these instructions.
2) Bold all the items you’ve eaten.
3) Cross out any items that you would never consider eating.
4) Optional extra: Post a comment here linking to your results.

The VGT Omnivore’s Hundred:
1. Venison
2. Nettle tea
3. Huevos rancheros
4. Steak tartare
5. Crocodile
6. Black pudding
7. Cheese fondue
8. Carp
9. Borsch
10. Baba ghanoush
11. Calamari
12. Pho
13. PB&J sandwich
14. Aloo gobi
15. Hot dog from a street cart
16. Epoisses
17. Black truffle
18. Fruit wine made from something other than grapes
19. Steamed pork buns
20. Pistachio ice cream
21. Heirloom tomatoes
22. Fresh wild berries
23. Foie gras
24. Rice and beans
25. Brawn, or head cheese
26. Raw Scotch Bonnet Pepper
27. Dulce de leche
28. Oysters
29. Baklava
30. Bagna cauda
31. Wasabi
32. Clam chowder in a sourdough bowl
33. Salted lassi
34. Sauerkraut
35. Root beer float
36. Cognac with a fat cigar
37. Clotted cream tea
38. Vodka jelly/Jell-O (Jello shots!)
39. Gumbo
40. Oxtail
41. Curried goat
42. Whole insects
43. Phaal
44. Goat’s milk
45. Malt whisky from a bottle worth £60/$120 or more
46. Fugu
47. Chicken tikka masala
48. Eel
49. Krispy Kreme original glazed doughnut
50. Sea urchin
51. Prickly pear
52. Umeboshi
53. Abalone
54. Paneer
55. McDonald’s Big Mac Meal
56. Spaetzle
57. Dirty gin martini
58. Beer above 8% ABV
59. Poutine
60. Carob chips
61. S’mores
62. Sweetbreads
63. Kaolin
64. Currywurst
65. Durian
66. Frogs’ legs
67. Beignets, churros, elephant ears or funnel cake
68. Haggis
69. Fried plantain
70. Chitterlings, or andouillette
71. Gazpacho
72. Caviar and blini
73. Louche absinthe
74. Gjetost, or brunost
75. Roadkill
76. Baijiu
77. Hostess Fruit Pie
78. Snail
79. Lapsang souchong
80. Bellini
81. Tom yum
82. Eggs Benedict
83. Pocky
84. Tasting menu at a 3-Michelin-star restaurant.
85. Kobe beef
86. Hare
87. Goulash
88. Flowers
89. Horse
90. Criollo chocolate
91. Spam
92. Soft shell crab
93. Rose harissa
94. Catfish
95. Mole poblano
96. Bagel and lox
97. Lobster Thermidor
98. Polenta
99. Jamaican Blue Mountain coffee
100. Snake

The round cheese is Époisses

I completed this list with not a lot of confidence, because I cannot be absolutely sure what I have eaten in the past.

This is a result of:

• Very late mornings after a night out. I used to play in a band, and you get hungry at 5.00am and then can't necessarily recall eating anything the next day
  
• Travelling to places where I don't speak the language. Who knows what I ate in Argentina, Chile, Brazil, Korea or the United States (and other places besides)?
  
• Mislabelling. I probably have eaten horse without knowing it, and I have seen items such as "lamb bits" on a menu. These could mean me adding 3 or 4 extra items
  
• Any meat you are unaccustomed to "tastes just like chicken", apparently. Was some of the "chicken" actually snake? What was that in the stew in Korea?
  
• One I am allergic to. I like crab and will eat it if you wish, but you should be prepared for copious projectile vomiting.
  
• One I am not admitting to. I will let you decide which one.

Simon

p.s This is our "Levis" blog entry - 501!! If I had been paying attention yesterday I would have made more of a fuss.

My Plan for the Bathroom Floor

I have decided that my life will now be a series of mini sagas. Our first saga was the roof - not so much getting it done, as arranging to get it done (it's all in here, somewhere). Still - that is now sorted. My next mini saga will be sorting out the bathroom floor. You may remember that last time you saw it, it looked like this. It now has to have new bearers and joists so I can lay a new floor.

I am too scared to touch any of the "beams" that are currently in the bathroom. I call them beams, because they appear to be doing more to hold up the ceiling downstairs than support the floor upstairs. All of them move alarmingly, and at least one of them in all 4 directions; up and down, front and back, side to side, AND it rotates. How to put in a bathroom floor without disturbing these has been playing on my mind since July, but now I have a plan.

At least, I think I have a plan.

The only way I can see of making the floor solid and stable will be to create a new floor bolted to the wall above what is already in place. What I will do is make a bearer (I think that is what it's called) out of 50mm x 150mm treated pine and bolt it to the external wall using 90mm long anchor bolts (goujons d'ancrage, apparently). This measurement may change, because I am not sure what that 90mm distance is - the wall is only one brick thick. The trick will be in making this piece absolutely level as it is quite likely I will be doing this on my own.

I will then attach another bearer to the bearer holding up the landing. This SHOULD be fairly simple (I hope I haven't just tempted fate there). Once that is done, I will put the lap jointed joists in place (spaced at 500mm centres), bolting the outside joists to the side walls. All this will be double measured and constantly checked with a spirit level. Everything is going to be screwed because I still can't hammer a nail in properly.

At this stage I will do the plumbing (or pay to have someone do the plumbing). Most of the pipework I should be able to do myself, but we will need a new connection to the egout (sewer) for a toilet and this will require a proper plumber.

Once they are plumbed a double layer of 9mm floor panels will be screwed to the joists, and we will almost have a new bathroom.

Albeit one missing a wall and without a door. We have chosen a door though, and typically, it isn't the cheapest door in the book. It's a nice sexy door with porthole! I would provide a link, but the Lapeyre website is now flash based (and therefore doesn't work properly), and I will not encourage that sort of behaviour.

You may wonder why I am writing this up before I do it, and there are two reasons. One is so that I have these little French hardware words written down somewhere, and the other is so that people who know about this building and carpentry stuff can critique my plans (please?) before I start. What I know about carpentry could be carved on the back of a postage stamp with a 4 inch chisel.

Simon

----------------------------------------------------------------

We are back to a classic Preuilly view. This is what our town looks like from the footbridge over the Claise on a clear February day.

Australia Day

No, we haven't had it moved in as a garden feature!

The photo in our title piece was taken by Susan in 2006 while I was in Loches with Bryan. At the time she was on holiday in the Northern Territory with her parents. The green and gold have been Australia's official colours since April 19, 1984.

The first recorded French presence in Australia was the expedition of Jean-François de Galaup, comte de La Pérouse, who arrived in Botany Bay on this day in 1788 at the same time as Captain Phillip was moving the first fleet to Port Jackson (the proper name of Sydney Harbour) to found the first European settlement in Australia. He is remembered by a suburb bearing his name which overlooks Frenchman's Bay, part of Botany Bay. Also at la Perouse is Bare Island Fort, which I remember as being one of the first places I ever went to on an outing with my family in Australia after we arrived in 1967. It was extremely hot (it was probably midwinter, but we had just arrived from an English Spring...) and we caught the bus down there, which took HOURS. Then I remember being singularly unimpressed with the fort, because being a London boy I was expecting the Tower of London, if not better. The only thing that redeemed the trip was the fact we went past the Rose Bay Flying Boat Base. Kids, eh?

A completely gratuitous photo of Sydney. Go under the bridge,
and on the right is Camp Cove, where the colony was founded.

For most Australians, the closest ties with France date from World War One, when the Australians served in the carnage that was the Western Front. After that war a number of ex-servicemen stayed on in France, and Paris became first choice for Australian artists, most notably Will Ashton and Rupert Bunney.

Since then, French/Australian relationships have been pretty good - if sometimes strained. The most notable strain was caused by the nuclear testing at Mururoa Atoll between 1966 and 1996, which I remember being heavily demonstrated against.

Overall though, the French presence in Australia is fairly small, although there are 31 Alliance Française groups spread across the country.

Officially 5,500 Australians live in France. We hope soon to make that 2 more...

Simon

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Edit

My parents emailed to say that my knowledge of Australia history is somewhat lacking - there were at least 3 French visits to Australia before La Pérouse:

• The French ships Boudeuse and Etoile under the command of Commander Louis de Bougainville and Captain Chesnard de la Giraudais almost found the east coast of Australia in 1758
• The Gros Ventre, Captain Francois de Saint Allouarn, sighted the west coast of Australia at Cape Leeuwin in 1772
• The crew of the ships Mascarin and Marquis de Castries under the command of Commander Marion Dufresne made landfall on Tasmania, also in 1772

In my defence I have to say that when I went to school we were taught that Captain Cook invented Australia. People like William Dampier and Dirk Hartog were hardly mentioned, and all we knew about Abel Tasman is that he discovered Tasmania and completely missed seeing the Australian Mainland.

Les Noix – Walnuts

The Touraine is famous for its walnuts, although it does not hold an AOC for them. Still, there is a walnut tree in almost every field and along roadsides. There is no real need to possess your own walnut to secure a year round supply – just go for a walk and pick them up off the ground – everyone does it.

Walnut trees in a field, le Grand Pressigny

I buy walnuts these days though. There is an elderly man from Boussay who comes to the market in Preuilly. He sells the excess of whatever he is growing in his garden, and I often buy my lettuce, onions, garlic or potatoes from him. I also buy walnuts, and the reason is that I can buy this season's freshly shelled nuts from him. I can also buy unshelled walnuts from him, but since 1kg of unshelled or 500g of shelled is the same number of nuts and the same price it seems mad to buy the unshelled. According to him, there are 40 walnuts to a kilo, and they net you une livre (a pound) of shelled nuts. He charges €3 a bag, shelled or unshelled. He always refers to half a kilo as une livre, and recommends the nuts as a nibble to go with an aperitif.

Shelled walnuts from Boussay

A while ago I wrote about making Pear and Walnut Cake, and one of our readers recommended Jane Grigson's recipe for Burgundian Walnut Bread. This is a savoury bread, with onions as well as walnuts. I made it while my parents were here in the summer and we had it with soup, and with cheese.

Walnut bread dough proving

Kneading the walnuts and onions into the dough

Fresh Burgundian Walnut Bread

Susan

This Week's Task

What with all the excitement attached to actually selling the house in Australia, we might have been forgiven for stopping a while to draw breath. The problem we have (or me, anyway) is the fact the sale took so long to happen the practical aspect of moving to France had began to fade into a fantasy world. I am now putting my mind to a scheme of work.

Our house, the first time we saw it. 29 May 2006

One of the main problems with a project this size is timing. Timing is everything. We have a 2½ bedroom house with no staircase, no heating, no insulation and no hot water. There is no bathroom (incorrect, in a way, we have a bathroom with no floor and no fittings). We have electricity, but the whole house needs rewiring. All the walls needs insulating and dry-lining, but we can't really do that until the plumbing and wiring is taken care of. We can't do the wiring and plumbing until we at least start the frames for the dry lining. Likewise, we can't install the bathroom until it has a floor, but the plumbing has to go in first, then the wall frames, then the wiring. Of course, if we want underfloor heat (and we do) that has to be done before anything else. So does the repair of the stonework around the doors and windows.

Our house, 1st January 2009.

So the first thing we need to do is: get a bathroom. And maybe a staircase (because Susan isn't a fan of the idea of using a ladder and wants a staircase but I like having a large hole where the staircase should be because it means we don't have to squeeze stuff up a narrow passage). And install underfloor heating. And fix the masonry.

This means that we have 3 things to do first. Or four. Or maybe five, because we have to get the internet connected without it costing an arm and a leg because there is no way we want to be in France but not connected. For some reason, in France they think you want to pay huge amounts of money every month to get your internet, free phone calls and online television delivered. Two of these I have no interest in having, and even less interest in paying for!

Sensible people would, at this stage, get a project manager. I have got a big piece of paper. And a pencil.

Our House, June next year

The heartening part is that the thing we really had to do first, we have done already. We have a roof, and the house is watertight. We also have a toilet, and running cold water. If we were feeling really hardy, we could live there now. We will be living there while most the work is being done. All we are waiting for is the weather - and a certain amount of boldness.

Bring it on.

Simon

Buildings on the Market Place - No 1

The Virginia Creeper covered house on the right is 1 Place des Halles and has an extremely interesting history; in 1920 it was the co-operative bakery. As far as we can work out, these were set up in each town as required by law to ensure that bread was fairly distributed to all in France, where extremely hard times followed the devastation caused by the First World War. The building on the left is Dr Martin's veterinary surgery, which I have already written about.

According to Roger Lezeau:

It was here that one found the co-operative bakery created out of necessity during the war. Monsieur and Madame Ridet and their daughter Berthe ensured that there was bread for sale but did not engage in its manufacture. Monsieur Nibodeau succeeded them.

At this time the baguette*, as in Paris, made its first appearance in Preuilly.

Sourdough (miche) was sold whole although other breads could be cut, enabling the baker to add a small slice to an order to make up the weight** [according to Roger, known as the amandon, or 'kernel', but I wonder if this is a play on words, because donner la miche = faire l'aumône = to give alms, and the baker may have been more or less generous with people.]

Ranges and ovens were not yet in use in town houses, and you could take tarts, stuffed tomatoes, roast veal, and even a dish made from haricots blancs called les pouais [which I fear may be an onomatopaic word] to the bakeries to cook. The flavours were greatly enhanced in the oven, delighting the nostrils of the kids charged with fetching the oven baked dish.

But to return to our co-op (copé) – you paid for the bread there with ration cards, the value of which varied depending on their colour. Although rationing did not cease immediately after the war, the quality of the bread improved rapidly.

The shop has been gone for decades and the building is now private homes.

Roger Lezeau's anecdote translated by me from his article in Les Cahiers de la Poterne, No34. Monsieur Lezeau was born in 1912 and is a great source of knowledge about the history of Preuilly.

Food shortages did not begin to affect [the more] southern unoccupied part of France (where we are) until 1916, but in May of that year, the so-called 'national bread' was introduced. It became less and less palatable throughout the duration of the war and by November 1916 it was rationed. The harvest of 1916 had been generally poor and the winter of 1916-17 harsh. Women workers in Paris led food riots, forcing the government to introduce rationing. Rationed foods in the north were paid for using a specially issued paper currency known as bons (which I think must have been issued by the Germans. I think the ration coupons used later and in the south were different, but also known as bons). [Our regular French reader, CHM, tells me that the bons were the same throughout and administered by the French government on French soil. I think my confusion arose because it can be difficult separating the situation in Belgium and in France at this time with the surprisingly sparse references available on the internet.]

The 'national bread' was made from no more than one third wheat flour, with another third rye and the balance made up of maize and rice. It had an extremely hard crust, and most people considered it almost inedible. Many bakeries closed due to the lack of supplies.

In the north, the food shortages started much earlier in the war, and were far worse. The occupying German army removed to Germany what crops had survived the fighting in 1914. By 1915 the bread ration in Lille was 200g per adult per day and 100g per child. There were rumours that the ration would go down to 140g per day for adults and 40g for children, and it did eventually fall to that level.

An extraordinary international food aid programme was masterminded by Herbert Hoover (then a millionaire businessman, later President of the United States), and co-ordinated by diplomats from Britain, the United States, Spain and the Netherlands. They could get food to France and Belgium relatively easily by sea or through neighbouring neutral countries, but once in the occupied war zone, distribution did sometimes become problematic. The negotiations with the German command were continual.

After the war, France found itself responsible for many refugees and immigrant labourers who had been brought in to help keep the country functioning on the domestic front, and chose to stay permanently.

I assume that our property was a graineterie (grain merchant's) at this time, and I would love to find some information on our place at this time and how the proprietors coped with the situation.

Susan

*For more on the history of the baguette see Simon's post In Praise of Bread.
**There are still regulations that mean that some types of bread must be sold by weight, others can be sold by the loaf.

An update on the Bad Neighbours

I wrote last year about Malvoisine, commenting on how strange is is to call your hamlet "the bad neighbour" and putting forward my own theories for the name.

There is one theory I didn't consider, and it is this:

During the war with John Lackland (yup - the Robin Hood and Ivanhoe chap) the Chateau du Lion was held at one stage by English forces (or at least, forces aligned to England), and was claimed to be impregnable. This didn't stop the French forces under Phillipe Auguste from bringing up a huge war machine ("un ancienne et terrible machine de guerre") - either a catapult or a trebuchet - to lob stones at the defenders.

The Chateau from Malvoisine

The machine really must have been a monster - it is almost 1km from where it is said to have been sited to the chateau, and most literature gives the range of these machines at about 300 metres. It is easy to suppose, though, that if the machine was closer to the river then it could quite easily have been used to throw rocks into the town itself. All this happened as part of the events described in yesterday's post, and as a direct result of this our house (or at least the barn part) was built.

One will never know if it was the defenders or the attackers who called this machine "the bad neighbour", but the name stuck, and on 9th February 1585 the area was officially named "Malvoisine".

King John was not a good man —
He had his little ways.
And sometimes no one spoke to him
For days and days and days.
And men who came across him,
When walking in the town,
Gave him a supercilious stare,
Or passed with noses in the air —
And bad King John stood dumbly there,
Blushing beneath his crown.

A.A. Milne
Now we are Six

Simon

Who would win a fight between Hannibal Lecter and 007?

So anyways...

There's this bloke right, and he's called Anthony Hopkins, and he's got the family business because his old man has dropped off the perch. He goes off on holiday to Israel with a mate called James Bond (but not that one, the one no-one remembers that isn't an Aussie).

Halfway there (they must have gone on a real cheap flight or something) James Bond gets on a different plane and goes home, yeah? He turns up at Tone's joint and buys his favorite gaff off of the brother Nigel who is house sitting. The brother is a right little toerag who was daddy's golden boy and he's running the old firm while Tone is on holiday.

Then Tone goes and gets himself banged up (airrage probably - he was a bit of a nutter) in Australia or somewhere and doesn't find out about all this until he gets out. When he gets home, he goes ballistic, gets a gang of mates, and does some serious head kicking. Only takes him a couple of hours and he's got his feet up in front of the telly. Bish bash bosh, lovely job.

Then he goes and pegs it and Nige the toad gets the whole deal - lock stock and barrel. Couple of years later there's a turf war kicks off what's really been going for ages ever since Peter O'Toole (that's the dad) married the James Bond bloke's old man's ex. She was a seppo called Katherine Hepburn.

So James Bond, yeah, rocks up with a bunch of mates at Tone's old gaff what Nige has now got but isn't at coz he is off taking care of business in Notts Forest (he spent loads of time giving some grief to Douglas Fairbanks, who sometimes looked like Kevin Costner). Takes him a year hanging around outside and shouting and chucking stuff about before he gets the keys. Turns out all to be a waste of time, because he didn't like the place much, and ends up giving it to a different mate who was the Italian geezer who was actually running the show.

History eh? You gotta concentrate.

Simon

For the terminally confused, this might help.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Who taught a politician to speak like that? I'm not old, but I am old enough to remember other politicians and I am pretty sure I have never heard one speak like that. Amazing.

The House in Queensland

We have all gone a lttle light-headed here...

Yes indeed, it is sold. At last.

This means that with any luck, over the next 12 months there will be a lot more blog posts about the progress we are making with the house. Also, because we should be in Preuilly more often, we will be able to take a closer look at day to day life in a small town in the Loire valley. Unfortunately, it does mean that there will be slightly less history and wildlife, but we have promised ourself that restoring the house won't be a 25 hour a day, 8 day week jobbie. We have heard too many stories (and while we were looking at houses to buy, seen too much evidence) of people who flog themselves into the ground, forgetting not only why they moved to France, but that the purpose of life is to live it a little. Thus we have promised ourselves a day a week to do "us" things and keep exploring.

This is the view from the Verandah

When I bought my house in Australia many people asked if I knew what I was doing in buying such an old house - maybe even 70 years old!

You will now excuse me while I do a little happy dance.

Simon

(these photos were taken from the real estate agent's site, hence the quality)

Six Horses

Or eight if you include this.

This is the classic Citroen 2cv. Road Tax in France is levied depending on the tax horsepower rating, which is a calculation made on engine capacity, not power. The 2cv has two chevaux vapeur - that is 2 steam horses. It is the car that put France properly on the road in 1948, and it stayed in production until 1990. In total 3,872,583 of them were made.

The design brief was simple: it should be able to ....
well - I will let the shaggy bloke in the video explain it

(that makes 10 horses so far)

According to one source, "Citroen was so confident in the 2CV's abilities that it offered the prize of a brand new car to the first person who rolled one on to its roof - and well over half a century later, the prize still hasn't been claimed." If you have ever followed one down the road you may doubt this - they are the leaniest cars I have ever seen.

Simon

(The video is not the right aspect, I know - but it was loaded to you-tube by someone other than me)