Wilf and Digby started the day in enthusiastic form. After their breakfast routine of yoghurt and a shared Ryvita they were to be found standing in the hallway staring determinedly at the front door , keen to get out and the day started. While 'the font' went racing off at warp factor with Wilf, Digby sauntered slowly along beside me stopping every twenty metres or so to look at the herons standing one legged in the pond, snif the shrubs on the village green, frown at the tapping of the woodpeckers and generally making sure that all was well with the world. He was the first back from the walk, whether by accident or design, and installed himself by the garden gate with a tired old teddy bear ( a relic from when we picked them up at the breeders 8 1/2 years ago) prominently,joyfully and proudly displayed in his mouth. Wilf was not at all happy at this usurpation of his role as top dog and sat radiating frumpy looks. He skilfully and patiently managed to deal with the situation by going into the house and emerging with the toy squirrel. Game,set and match to Wilf.
To the village market with 'the font' late yesterday afternoon. We clearly arrived too late. All that was left by the time we got there apart from the antique stalls were a mass of fresh radishes, garlic, and an artisinal baker. Over dinner we came to the conclusion that the food in France probably is the best in the world. Germany has wonderful white asparagus, there is nothing to beat English strawberries for taste and texture, South African grapes are a delight and Vidalia onions in Georgia are a joy ; but overall the French produce and treat their food with a care and attention that is peculiarly and delightfully French . Our Italian,Australian,Californian and even Canadian friends would of course disagree.
Overnight the date at the top of the post has corrected itself. The Blogger computer has suddenly recognized that I'm writing this in France, not the Pacific. Let's hope the same benign spirit works its wonders on the Volkswagen re-registration system.
I do have to agree with you about the food of the French - they make eating an event.
ReplyDeleteHope the VW problems soon work themselves out.
Lynn
I have to say, I am drooling over the pictures of that market! We don't have anything like that here.
ReplyDeleteWay to go Digby! Sometimes you just have to seize the day!
Ooohhh! That farmer's market has Mom drooling. She remembers when she took a one-day cooking class in Paris and they met at the Marche Bastille. On the menu was a delicate young garlic soup, so good. And of course, radishes with good salted French butter (those are happy cows in France that produce such dairy products!)as well as crudites dipped in pistachio oil then cinnamon salt. Vive le France et bon appetit!
ReplyDeleteWell we do have the deep fried Mars Bars up here....
ReplyDeleteOh OK. I concede. No contest on the food front.
Cheers, H.
Rocky Creek - No such thing as a quick lunch here
ReplyDeleteHtooth - Digby loves it when he can irritate his big brother
Petey - Radishes, wonderful
Hamish - We forgot raspberries from the Neuk - nothing like them in season and of course seafood exceopt it's all exported.
Hey Mongoose
ReplyDeleteDid you consider the South African Mangoes???
Licks
MAXDOG