Le Fête du Ventre and Other Activities.

Posted on October 19, 2014 by frenchimmersion

My fellow guide and I had a huddled conversation this morning over how on earth we were going to get our 50 Amercan tourists through the heart of the city of Rouen this morning. Lining the streets on every side, cheek to cheek, was every conceivable stall groaning under the weight of speciality and artisan foods from the length and breadth of Normandy. Finally colourful umbrellas held high, Joan of Arc’s story having already being recounted on a quiet corner, we snaked our way through the crowd to the Vieux Marché and the cross in the garden outside the Eglise Jeanne d’Arc.

Maybe the end of the historic tour, but for me, the start of a fun-filled lunchtime. A quick call to my younger boys back at home to describe the sweet stall I had just passed, and the boys were hastily on route to the café where I had taken refuge for a pause, before launching ourselves into the crowds to taste all that was on offer.

Having started with a creamy hot chocolate, our next stop was of course the sweet stall. But barely had we paid for two groaning bags than we spotted our favourite chocolatier on the other side of the street making chocolate truffles before our eyes.

-“on offer, for a limited time only” he called, and I knew it was true since last year, once thoroughly addicted, the truffle source dried up by about the end of December, leaving an agonising 8 month wait until this year’s Fête!

Now loaded down with two bags of sweets and a huge groaning bag of truffles, we came across the Macroon stall and walked away with chocolate, Tiramisu, Spéculoos, and Framboise flavours.

But the fun was still to come. As we reached the corner the noise became deafening. Right there, across the street from the Oyster bar, a jazz band was entertaining the crowds. If you look really carefully you can see the oyster shells piled high on one of the tables.

Leaving the band we headed down the street to see what else we could find!

-wonderful fresh vegetables,

– and at least twenty varieties of Normandy apples!

– Normandie “escargots” (snails)

and crates of delicious “champignons”.

-Don’t forget the “Neufchatel” cheese, formed in the shape of a heart by the Normandy dairymaids to the allied soldiers in the First World War.

The soft pretzel breads caused a stir with my boys! So much so that they forgot to clamour for a fresh crèpe or a gauffre (waffle)!

But full on fresh bread, sweet bags in hand, with music still ringing in our ears we headed happily home! I hope our American visitors enjoyed it as much as we did!

Rivalling China

Posted on March 17, 2014 by frenchimmersion

A couple of days ago a fellow Normandy blogger posted several photos of the early morning mist rising up over the river near her country home. The early signs of spring and the promise of a glorious day! Looking out of my dining-room window from the breakfast table, from where I have an excellent view of the hills of Mont St Aignan, I too was enjoying that low lying spring morning haze and the clear irridescent blue sky above …or so I thought!

photo:My French Country Home

Ten wonderful days of sunshine and Rouen and much of northern France has been basking in temperatures reaching 20°, and after a long winter the warmth is very welcome. But our pleasure hasn’t lasted long. The warm sunny days and cold clear nights have made impossible the daily dissipation of pollution. Each day the pollution levels have augmented until last friday the readings rivalled those of Beijing, one of the most polluted cities in the world. That romantic mist is none other than smog, and the numbers of people seeking help for respiritory illness has spiked.

Paris smog

Rouen smog

On friday, along with Paris, Rouen made all public transport free, and the SNCF and RER, France’s national rail networks made local and intercity train journeys free too. The Velib (velo libre – bikes at liberty) found in special bike racks all over the two cities were also made free of charge. These gratuities were due to last until sunday night, and consequently a free rail trip to visit Paris on sunday seemed a happy bi-product of the climatic conditions. But would one really want to visit Paris at the moment? The answer for most is probably no. On friday, in Paris the pollution readings measured 180 microgrammes of particles per metre cubed where the alert is raised at 80 microgrammes per metre cubed.

Velib in use but mask necessary!

By sunday night more extreme measures were put in place, and chat forums were busy denouncing or approving the measures depending on the individual standpoint. What caused the frenzy of opinions – “l’alternance de circulation”, In other words, today only cars and motorbikes with an uneven numbered number plate can circulate. No lorries are permitted at all, regardless of numberplate, and only vans used by the emergency services can cross the city. For those with an even numbered numberplate who attempt to drive in Paris and several of its suburbs, a fine of 20€. Only the press, rather bizarrely, and the police, obviously are exempt from the ban. But perhaps we should spare a thought for the police officers, who will number in the region of 700, and maintain order and issue ‘on the spot’ fines, whilst they stand all day in the thick of the smog.

While many were congratulating the government on it’s tough stance, there were of course inevitably those who critisized the measures for being politically motivated, others that warned of a potential vehicle standstill in the city as a result of spot-checks, and a large number pointing the blame towards Germany and Belgium for their recule from nuclear power and back to fossil fuels, and the increase of pollution as a result. Many were dreading the increased journey times and feared the sardine conditions on public transport. One wise-crack thanked his dad for having bought him two cars, one with an odd number-plate, the other even.

For my part, I can do pretty much everything by foot, and the jury us still out as regards the journey to university today, not so much for the distance, but for the ability to be home in time for my children and the end of the school day. Leaving the city centre yesterday for the open air lido on the plateau above the city, the air seemed pretty fresh and most people were taking advantage of the sunshine to give their ‘bronzing’ a head-start, lounging happily by the out-door pool.

But despite the sunshine and blue skies perhaps it wasn’t really as fresh as we really thought?

In Which You Can’t Chose Your Relatives!

Posted on January 20, 2014 by frenchimmersion

About five o’clock yesterday afternoon, mid-tennis lesson, my ex-neighbours and antiques friends sent me a message, inviting me to view their new house, and promising to keep me there until I’d eaten dinner. Not wanting to turn down a French dinner invitation, by seven I was hammering on their door, my car cleverly already pointing downhill on their narrow road in a homeward direction, thus avoiding any awkward manoevres a wine glass or two later on.

Their house, which i’d seen in a very shabby state of distress a week or so before the removal date was inevitably now a picture of perfection. Antiques husband had just arrived back from the coast with Turbot fresh from the fisherman’s market on the quay and Antiques wife was busy stirring crème fraiche into finely sliced leeks. Cooling on the counter was a freshly baked Tarte Tatin.

Somewhere between the first glass of Champagne and the Tarte Tatin, Antiques husband asked me if I wanted to see his latest purchase and we all trooped into the Salon to view an unframed portrait of very beautiful woman from the early 19th century sitting in her fine blue gown against a deep almost black background. Alongside, cheek to jowel, a multitude of other protraits, all gazing loftily at us from out of their frames.

Having, with a certain level of irony, remarked on the striking family resemblance, the colour of eyes, the angle of the nose and so on, I asked him where he’d found her, and only when he replied ‘The Zenith’ of course, did I realise how close I’d come to missing the most beautiful fair of the Antiques calendar – The Rouen Puces. We laughed about his new addition to the family whilst Antiques husband scrabbled in his wallet and handed me an unused ticked for the final day at the brocante.

So it was that today found me wandering the five halls of antiques and bric à brac and wishing I had a tidy sum of money burning a hole in my pocket.

The problem with the ‘Puces’ is that invariably, within about five minutes, it clearly becomes necessary to move house to one with twice as many rooms and several ‘dependances’ or renovate-able outbuildings. Only moments later one is sighing about the misfortune and hardship suffered since the ancestors hadn’t left an enormous country ‘pile’ to inherit. The bearded gentleman above certainly looks a kindly and benevolent fellow, and I considered adopting him and taking him home with me – but first I made a tour of the halls.

I rather liked the detail trim on these Louis XVI chairs,

and the paint effects on these pieces of furniture.

There seemed to be more painted furniture this year than last, and in my mind’s eye I had already placed several pieces in my new baronial home!

This rather wonderful dresser was clearly essential for my new vast servants kitchen, though since I liked the display of old labelled pharmacy jars on the shelves within, I decided I would need a second closed dresser in which to store the more every-day items.

Clearly things were getting ahead of themselves, so I decided to find a more parsimonious ancestor to encourage a bit of frugality and restraint. I felt that he would have been a little more eclectic and inclined to live off the land.

But it was hard not to dream, and not long afterwards, my illusions to grandure had once more returned, and I found myself thinking of beds and armoirs, of which there were several to choose from.

This bed complete with it’s very own ancestor!

A Louis XV style bureau..

and this lovely banquette.But firmly setting aside all visions of a Louis XV boudoir, and under by the firm eye of this imposing gentleman, I settled to the task in hand ..

..to find a small French chair for my rather more modest bedroom. And after several minutes of hard bargaining the stall holder was carrying a lovely battered Louis XV chair to my car, whilst I took one final glance around at the remaining portraits.

But this glamorous woman was no match for the outstanding beauty of Antiques Husband’s ‘arriere grande maman’, so I turned my back on her musing to myself that..

While you can’t choose your relatives, you can at least these days select your ancesters!