SARRAZ'S QB INC

Food

Upstaged by yet more home cooked french food - this courtesy of Ange's mum  and a firm family favourite - lle flottante or oeuf a la neige.

What can I say about the taste?  You had to be there! 

Poached sweetened egg whites nestled in creme anglais and drizzled with caramel; the caramel was not bitter and I barely stopped myself from licking my bowl clean.

What you get if you boil pigs trotters for 3 hours with cloves and other spices then air dry before braving the deep fryer.  Great entertainment watching the air spit and crackle as the water in the trotters met the fat.  Next time I'll wait a bit longer before frying.  Served with a tangy lime, honey and soy sauce dressing.  The corriander is home grown and has thus far survived the frosts.  We are all so homesick for good cooked asian food so this was a real treat.

A bad photo of a lovely dish.  I guess the closest translation is an open burger (sans buns).

Before I go into details, this was served in what used to be an Aussie pub complete with painted native animals, dunny signs and a real cappuccino machine (read: heaven).

A couple of hours of exclusive Ange time (no kids, no work) made it all the sweeter.

You can buy mince packed into a polystyrene tray (cheveu d'ange or angel's hair), but more usual is for the very lean steak to be directly minced into a small oval mould (steaks haches). 

In a butchers or a supermarket meat counter you would always have the meat minced in front of you.  No room for paranoia here!  It is then cooked in butter (beurre noisette) and served raw to pink in the centre. 

This particular steak hache was ground on a medium setting and served pink and melted in the mouth.  Again, I can't describe the taste but I really wish all burgers were cooked this way.  You can also see how the egg was beautifully runny.  Well deserving of it's Aussie setting although it's all so anti food standards.

The Aussie pub.

A day out.  Sometimes I have to pinch myself - it's all so authentic.

Steaks Haches (before).

Appologies for the quality of this photo.  Fresh gauffres (waffles) served with powdered sugar.  

The whole village had become a fete and these were made at the kitchen of a local and served through the front door.

The last time we encountered an artesianal quality fete like this in Aus we had to pay to get in!

Were they good? See below;

and now for something different...

Before - you may be thinking steaks haches, but no....

After

I have NO IDEA how one would cook, let alone eat these.  Plus they are huge - more a main meal really.

More picture pefect food styling.

Not so perfect food styling.  Recipe courtesy of Master Chef.  More home grown corriander.

Pain au lait - known to one little guy as 'dragon bread'

St Colomban 540 - 615

It's fascinating to find such tit bits of history in such tiny off the beat places. 

St Colomban, born in Ireland, attended the abbey at Bangor (Ireland - County Downs) for 30 odd years before going into voluntary exile on the continent.  He traced a route through Europe - places like Burgundy, Zurich, and Bobbio in northern Italy, where he was eventually laid to rest, evangelising the Gauls and other continentals .  His connection to Luxeuil is strong; he founded the abbey at Luxeuil around 590 after he went into seclusion in the Vosges.  The tiny chapel at Sainte Marie en Chanois near Annegray (20 mins away from Luxeuil) attracts pilgrims to this day.

He appears to have his own fan club at http://www.ewtn.com/library/mary/fr91303.htm and http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Columbanus where he is described as a bit of a looker.  He was also severe in will and favoured silence, private confession, penances and self mortification; hermit-like he would live in caves surviving on forest herbs, berries and the bark of young trees. Despite the stunningly beautiful views at Sainte Marie en Chanois, below, he imposed a severity on the landscape and pilgrims to this day cross themselves at the entrance to his cave and lie on his stone bed which forms part of the little chapel.  There is a spring at which you can dab water on your eyes.

His fete is celebrated on Nov 21.

Bizarely St. Columbanus is the patron saint of motorcyclists.

More links http://www.lieux-insolites.fr/hsaone/valbert/valbert.htm

Saint Columban , c.540-615, Irish missionary to the continent of Europe, also called Columbanus. He was trained in the abbey at Bangor. He and 12 companions, including St. Gall, sailed to France (c.585), where they set out to eradicate the general impiety that had grown up under the successors of Clovis. He went into seclusion in the Vosges, and c.590 he founded the abbey at Luxeuil . His Celtic practices and austerities eventually alienated both ecclesiastical and civil powers. Involved in the hostility between Queen Brunhilda and the Frankish bishops, he was generally feared by them all and was exiled. He went (610) to Switzerland and to Bregenz, seeking to reestablish Christianity there. Hostile reaction caused him to go (612) to Milan. At Bobbio he set up an abbey. There he died and lies buried. St. Columban was a considerable scholar, and all his foundations became known for their learning. He composed a rule for monks, which was later completely replaced by the longer and less austere rule of St. Benedict. Feast: Nov. 21 and, in Ireland, Nov. 23.

Bibliography: See B. Lehane, The Quest of Three Abbots (1968); C. H. Lawrence, Medieval Monasticism (1984).

Cite this article
Pick a style below, and copy the text for your bibliography.

• MLA
• Chicago
• APA

"Saint Columban." The Columbia Encyclopedia, Sixth Edition. 2008. Encyclopedia.com. 20 Oct. 2010 <http://www.encyclopedia.com>.

"Saint Columban." The Columbia Encyclopedia, Sixth Edition. 2008. Encyclopedia.com. (October 20, 2010). http://www.encyclopedia.com/doc/1E1-Columban.html

"Saint Columban." The Columbia Encyclopedia, Sixth Edition. 2008. Retrieved October 20, 2010 from Encyclopedia.com: http://www.encyclopedia.com/doc/1E1-Columban.html

Learn more about citation styles

inside the chapel - including the stone bed

a water channel

The cave, located adjacent to the chapel, and now caved-in.  The 'bed' forms part of the neweer chapel.

Not so good looking here...

The views

the langue d'oïl (oïl language) as opposed to the langue d'oc (Occitan language, also then called Provençal) (Oc and Oïl are the words for 'yes' in their respective dialects).

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Old_French and http://www.webpages.ttu.edu/joseppri/oldfrench/langue.html

are you able to translate? I think it has something to do with you open your eyes might aces eavx-water salv-wash taires-eyes isaie- chap-

We saw this on the way to the chapel.  The figures actually move - they saw wood, by the power of the water wheel.

A tale of creme caramel

Once upon a time, when the air carried the scent of snow and the wind wrapped an icy fist around anything with a pulse - a creme caramel was born...

The beginning

The middle

The end

The credits...

A month in photos

September brought a visit to friends in Nancy, a 2 day trip for moi to Switzerland plus a birthday and a couple of bikes for 2 lucky children. 

The weather is cool and crisp - great for riding the bikes to school.  We have bought our first vegetables in ages as the garden in coming to an end.  The trompette de la mort has started to show (black trumpet of death mushroom), and the Mont D'or fromage vacherin is finally in the shops.  Tonton Denis has shot his first wild pheasants and bought round a male and female, heads lolling, feathers awry and blood still drooling from beaks (to the great delight of the children).  No doubt these will be cooked with the trumpets as they (the trumpets) are great with game.  The fromage is only produced from 15 August to 31 May, when the cows are first brought down from their alpine pastures.  We currently have a medium sized cheese, still wrapped in it's pine strip, aclimatising to room temperature before it is spiked and flooded with white wine and made into fondu in a hot oven.  That may be all we eat tonight, with a fresh green salad and crusty old bread.  All we are missing is the skis!

By the way, a trip down memory lane for my siblings - remember plucking chickens in the big laundry sink at home?  Here they take the birds into the forest for a wild old plucking!  Heaven knows what a visitng rambler might make of the large mass of feathers  strewn across their path.  They also burn the remaining smaller feathers off rather than using scalding hot water.

Trumpet of death.  Despite it's name these are safe to eat and fantastic with game.  
At the moment cellars across Europe are drying out thousands of these little mushrooms ready to store in tuppaware.
The mushrooms are peeled in two and then placed on newspaper for several days.  

Townhouses in Nancy.  I could be in London.

Detail from the Roman Spa in Nancy

Eyes bigger than tummy?

Best friends meet again.  Nancy.

Birthday outfit.

This Maison was moved from Zutzendorf (Alsace) to Sainte-Marie park 1909

The centre ville park in Nancy.  I could almost be in Melbourne...

Flowers and bees

The animation put on by the town of Nancy at Place Stanislas for 'le temps des Lumières'. 

Place Stanislas in on the list of UNESCO World Heritage Sites and was built by the former King of Poland-Lithuania (and father-in-law to Louis XV)

For clearer photos see http://www.mespetitsbonheurs.com/rendez-vous-place-stanislas-a-nancy-sons-et-lumieres-de-lete-photos/

and http://www.rendez-vous.nancy.fr/web/

One of our favourite boulangeries in Luxeuil.  They do great macaroons.

Baguettes and a bike, but no cap.

Since he first got his tiny BMX Alex has not stopped doing tricks.  Here is a wheelie in action!

Homemade Portugeuse Tarts...mmmm

Handmade glass.  Champers anyone?

Geneva on the Isle

The train from Geneva to Zurich

Vineyards in Switzerland, by the lake

The village idiot

It's ben ages since my last post and I've be come accustomed to my life in lights, beautifully backdroped by the old village, accompanied by the slow clap, the raised eyebrow and the plain ominous 'dead eye' syndrome which seems to occur whenever I open my mouth.

Dead eye is the blank look, the 'it's all too much' switch, that stops a person from even trying to understand my words.   Of course, Amby will pipe up exactly the same phrase in exactly (so I think) the same accent, and suddenly the skies clear and smiles break out and Amby is congratulated for being so clever.  

Despite feeling like the village idiot, or pehaps because of it, I seem to be stopped every day on my walk back home from the school drop off and asked directions to places.  It's happened so often that I'm beginning to think there is a conspiracy.  What directions can we ask the village idiot today.  Of course it often ends in tears (not for me, but the person asking) because as soon as I open my mouth to explain, the poor person gets dead eye, looks around wildly for a way to escape 'the english' and thanks me profusely in the hopes that I won't keep them there all day. 

I've had one person drill me about my instructions to the lake of the 7 horses (sept chevaux - I think 7 horses drowned in the lake which is how it got it's name; whether they were pulled out and eaten we will never know).  We have two lakes in Luxeuil - the 7 horses and another much smaller lake at the opposite end of the village.  "How can I get to the Sept Chevaux lake" they ask, to which I reply - keeping going toute a droite (straight ahead) until you come to the Casino supermarket, direction piscine (pool).  "No" they cry frustrated, "we dont want the lake near Auchan" (Auchan is the other supermarket, in the other direction).   The more I explained that the lake they wanted was past Casino supermarket the more suspiciously they looked at me.  In the end they thanked me politely and left, only to stop immediately across the road and accost some old fella who pointed in EXACTLY the same direction as I had and who told them to go past Casino.  It must be the accent.  Anyway they were a rather suss looking pair of Europeans on expensive carbon fibre bicycles and professional racing bike clothes.  I hope they ended up lost in the forest.

Being the village idiot has it's good points. It's a chance for me to play the fool and explore my silly side.  I often toy with giving mauvais (bad) directions, with dumbing down my knowlege of the french language so I give as good a dead eye stare as they do, but in the end it's the silly things that do it for me.  Yesterday I took my wonderful daughter to a cafe.  Now Amby insists on talking really loudly in english all the time, despite her beautiful accent (no doubt she gets this from her father who also, bizarrely insists on doing the same).  I find it quite embarrasing - no matter how much I entreat, the loud english talk remains...Anyway, we ended up talking in english which appeared to miff quite a few patrons; there's nothing like being excluded to make one feel paranoid (ask me, I should know!).   This gave the patrons free range to discuss us at length which was rather interesting until we got up to leave and started speaking in french.  Ah, the puce expressions on some of the faces made me rather think we had hit a nerve or two. However, one woman was emboldened enough to say in an angry loud whisper to her husband that we were meshan (naughty).

I do have a long way to go in the french language, and the french are notoriously intolerant of other languages being spoken, which allows me to see that most of the places in the world I have visited seem more tolerant in comparison.

Red Tape...

I am running behind on schedule.  The plan was to learn and pass the code (driving theory) and then enrol in a french language class to help my constuction of phrases and general pronunciation.  Well, Madame 'Paris'  has other ideas.  I had still as of yesterday, not had my dossier completed.  This means I cannot do a test no matter how hard I study.  I have begun a silent campaign - I do not set foot in those hallowed (horrible) doors again until my dossier is complete.  There is always a unique if slightly bizzare excuse.  The questions stem from whether I am really here in France to live, or if I have come back soley for the purpose of being completely ripped off by one of the most expensive forms of learning and passing driving theory code that I have ever encountered.   I guess it could be more expensive - in Saudia Arabia I would be forced to have gender reassignment surgery.  I have now submitted serveral more proofs of living here and if that fails you may have to start calling me Monsieur Sarrazin.

Of course, to entirely negate this, Ange has enrolled with a different company to get a licence to allow him to tow the large machine from work.  He not only got the book on the code included, but he also gets access to lessons ANY TIME of the day, and ONLINE access to tests and lessons as well!  So much for my 2:30pm to 18:30pm timeslot, popular with all the gum chewing, smelly, talkative schoolies and no book, no internet jangle.  Grrrrr

Of course even the internet is posing problems.  It's been on the blink since we got it, and to be honest I wasn't in  any frame of mind to ring up some poor technican and explain the problem in my terrible french.   Well, that's all changed now. The issue is the telephone line cuts out mid call leaving hapless friends talking to themselves at some length before we all twig that the line has been cut.  Then it takes some minutes to regain the dial tone so I can call again.  The problem has been 'resolved' several times over, with the result that the last 'resolution' has buggered up the tv and internet as well.   Now our internet access package is quite literally on the blink - several times while writing this blog (offline) I have see the little green button on the modem change from green (good) to purple, red and orange before turning green again.  We are supposed to have a technician visit us tomorrow, after my last frustrated, sobbing, head banging phone call, and I wait with baited to breath to see if they will actually visit in person or just call us (like they did last time we were promised a visit).

Blog....

anyway, this has been my rather extended version of why I don't call you, skype you, email you, or even blog.  SFR have obviously been affected all this time with 'dead eye'. 

Silly me - what a village idiot!

RE

Anticipation (after a shoddy, dreadful week)

It's been take-away French-style with the excellent all rounder cheese fondue, this time served with potatoes dauphine - little balls of mashed pototoes served crsip from  the oven, and a flamin pizza (Flammenküche).

Photo courtesy of http://alsannuaire.asonblog.com/tag/flamme-kuche/

We are eagerly awaiting our first guests and so have been running up and down stairs making beds, moving rooms and general other panic associated with "heck it's that time already" syndrome.  Good thing too, as it gets our minds off the last week, which I won't go into but which I hope to never experience again.

It had all been done yesterday but of course the kids slept in the newly made beds and the house sort of got trashed as seems to happen with kids.

The only thing left to do tonight is make sure I get some sleep.

Tomorrow I have nothing more strenuous planned than fresh croissants and bowls of coffee, more sleep, a visit to the market for cheese (finally!) and then raclette for dinner (turkey, horse, duck, beef and pork). 

We can't wait to see you dudes  it's been ages.

Here's another random link, this time extolling (I think) the virtues of Haute Saone in Allemand (German), for Andrew and Kate;

http://frankreich.germanblogs.de/archive/2008/03/27/vogesen-und-haute-sa-ne.htm

and finally here's a recipe for dauphine potatoes courtesy of cooks.com for Bronwyn

2 lg. potatoes, cut up
1 tsp. salt
1/4 c. butter
1/2 c. flour
2 eggs
1 dash pepper

In small pan, cook potatoes in water with salt until tender. Drain. Save 2/3 cup potato water. Dry potatoes on low heat to rid excess moisture. Mash (no milk). In medium pan combine saved water and butter, heat over medium heat until boiling. Reduce and add flour all at once, stir fast until mixtures leaves side of pan, remove and cool slightly. Add eggs and mix separately. Blend in potatoes and pepper. Drop by rounded teaspoonful. Deep fat fry 8 minutes until puffed and browned.

Enjoy Saturday!

where have we been?

 
It's been a while since we last posted.  

I'm writing to the soothing sounds of Chopin. Not for any reason except it happens to be on the french TV and it's way better than the rather shocking scenes that came on at the watershed yesterday (in other words as soon as they could) and which I had to turn off.   I'm still having mares. Bleeding French.

Life has been up and down (regular life getting in the way again).  Nevermind, it's all calming down now and once again we have the time and headspace to appreciate everything.  We are thinking of all of you at your various homes around the globe and hoping that things are ok too.  Or if not, that you know we are thinking of you.

Here's a photo diary of what we have managed in between, starting from about 3 weeks ago and ending with some photos from today.

 

Pony riding.

What to do when you miss your fav cafe-style giant-sized muffins from Oz?  Make your own.  These were truly yum.

A weekend visit to friends at Pontarlier.  This is a view from the house - how beautiful is Lac St Point with the morning fog hovering over it? 

We slept like babies here, at 837m altitude. This is the 3rd largest natural lake in France and about 30km from the Swiss border.

A shop dedicated to mushrooms....

Note to me - must do a blog on french tiling.

   

and le comté, morbier (http://www.fromage-morbier.com/),

By the way, I discovered this really cute website (in english)  http://www.letroudesouris.com/index-en.php

More morilles than one can comprehend - it's too much, I must be hallucinating!

The bags of morilles ranged from a modest 20€ for a sizeable looking pillow to this 1kg bag which cost 160€.

Of course, you could always do what the locals do and hunt for them in the surrounding forests for free!

 

A gift perchance?

 

30€.....DJ's etc eat your heart out

But honestly? I very nearly put 'me stockings over 'me face to storm the place.  Instead I opted for a camera for all you poor folk at home who can't get to sleep for lack of morilles and black trumpets and truffles and uncooked cheeses and chunky boar pates and home made fruit liqueurs.

I'll have you know I got some very strange looks from the proprietor. Sigh.  The lengths I'll go to for a good blog.

By the way we ate locally found morilles supplemented with store bought, in a cream sauce served over the tenderest pork medallions.  Why, why can't I cook like that!

Quad devils

Another gorgeous view of Lac St Point

Fish n chips french style (fresh from the lake)

Today - 8th August - an afternoon at motorcross practice with Ange's younger brother and nephew (not on quad - we just like seeing quad's jump)

Not here either - we just like seeing bikes that jump really high

Alex and Tonton (the other uncle)

Moi aussi, je fais le motocross (I can do motorcross too)

Nephew - 8 yrs old and rearing to go

How amazing is the view?
We are just outside of Vesoul, behind the areodrome.

Finished up tonight with a BBQ, a great night with yet more of Ange's family visiting.  Loved it.  Has been an awesome summer's day too which really brought out the colours in the countryside.  Saw farmers on tractors rolling giant hay bales, sunflowers in full bloom, massive fields of corn ripe for the picking, the kids have had a ball, and finally tis only me and hyper hamster Rhino awake in the house.

Felix, did you know Rhino loves corn on the cob and can fit a whole one in his cheeks at one sitting!  Have you finished your book yet?  

Bonne nuit tous le monde
 

Happy Birthday Amby

Amby is 9 years old.  Happy birthday sweetheart!

Bon anniversaire cherie.

Diablo Menthe aperitf a Luxeuil, centre ville

Home made sponge with myrtilles (wild blueberries).

Je crois que le gateau en France est superbe, mais c'est pas comme ce lui de mamma.

Mmmmmmmn 

It's no suprise is it?

 Here's a kids song originating in France in the 70's by one Chantal Goya:

"This morning a rabbit killed a hunter.  It was a rabbit with a gun..." (que cutesy girl with hand wiggling for ears and a blink or miss it moment of pretending to hold a gun,  including the recoil).

Please do look at the following link - it's much funnier!

http://bunnybissoux.blogspot.com/2008/03/ce-matin-un-lapin-chantal-goya.html

I also thought gun - rabbit - kids song...huh? But now it makes sense!?

For all you pony and horse lovers out there, we took the kids to a pony stud today to see what we could see.  We fell in love with the baby ponies - well they were gorgeous, including one blondie with blue eyes, a playful little boy called Angel Fire and Athena - the prettiest little pony of all. 

Two things impressed me - one the fact that Mr Pony had a big welcome for us and I mean big.  It was far too late to hide/avert the kids eyes so we tried for the studied nocholance but I'll be dealing with the questions for weeks.

Second we finsished up our hour long visit with a chat about the horse abattoir next door and his tasty horse steaks...

Hope you are all doing well.  It was Amby's first time back on a pony for some weeks (it's been competition time which she is not involved in, being a beginner), and she had a lovely straight back and a horse that made all the spectators laugh. There's Amby sat astride and kicking at the rounded tummy and the horse doing nothing. Quite comical but well done "Ambers" for getting that pony to move at all.

There was another BBQ tonight and beforehand we managed to drop the kids at memere's BEFORE we went shopping.  Here's me thinking it would go faster with no tantrums from Alex, but with Ange present there always seemed to be people to meet, so we would stop and kiss and chat, blocking the isle with our trolley as we did so (as per the norm). Then I'd ask - 'who was that' - to the rather cautious reply - 'I'm not entirely sure'.

The weather was much cooler tonight and little Lou Lou (one of the cousins of the kids) has got a cold.  We adults overcompansated with champagne and suduko.

Now at home watching bizzare clips from the 70's including one about a rabbit...

Bisous toute les monde!

Cheryl - we miss you, big hugs!

 
Since my last post, written a week or so ago, we have experienced some relief from the weather which has increased our energy levels.  Of course today the weather is back to it's old tricks so we are hiding inside, shutters down, playing Thomas the tank engine and watching cartoons until it's time to go the pool with the neighbours.

Sunday was a perfect day, hot but with a breeze and we spent a good 3 hours at the local riverside, picknicking and swimming and making dams.  The river is a nursery for fish and you can just see the fingerlings in one of the photos.  You can find more information on the waterways of Franche Comte here: http://www.interfrance.com/en/fc/na_rivers.html and on fishing here: http://www.gofishn.com/content/france

The location of this part of the river was just behind the salle des fetes where Ange and I celebrated our wedding.

 

 

Yesterday was another great day.  I took the kids to the local swimming pool and then we went to Ange's parents to drink a magnum of champagne because Ange's dad has returned from his extended stay in Senegal.  Tonight they have 'threatened' to take the kids overnight (yay!!!!).

We have been doing our usual sorties on the weekends to find out more about the area and to see if we fall for any one place in particular.  A few weekends ago we discovered Chateau Oricourt.  Sorry to bore you with more links but here is an english translation of their webpage http://www.oricourt.com/medieval-castle

They actually hold medieval fetes, markets and jousting here and it's a shame we just missed the last one.  The village itself is more like a hamlet and most of the buildings appear to have been part of the same village.   I had a grand designs moment with the little round house - isn't it cute!

  

 

The garden is producing! and we have our very first peas.  Good thing too, as the sun has mummified the plants so I think thats that for the peas.  The beans are starting to grow and are withstanding the heat better.  We have had several round courgettes which I have been experimenting with.  First a veal and pork 'farcir' or stuffing, with lentils, fresh tomato and herbs topped with cheese and chunky croutons, and then a vegetarian filling of courgettes, fresh tomatoes and aubergines with comte cheese mixed into the filling.  Both were really moreish.  We also did a gratin of various roasted vegetables and mozerella cheese.   Mmmmmm.  I love summer veges.

It's not only us of course.  We have enjoyed a bit of occasional bartering with our neighbours and so we had fresh groiselle in exchange for a courgette.  We also discovered which of our courgette plants was actually a melon!

The lunch siren has gone off and I must get some food on for the little gourmets before they complain.

We are really glad to hear from you all - keep up the emails and comments as we are missing you all very much!