Thoughts from Sancerre

Typical scene: Frenchmen, livestock, and an ancient barnyard.

I have spent a lot of my life in France - and I don't mean quick visits to Paris to see the tourist attractions. I spent the first half of second grade in a French maternelle, we spent months each year in a tiny village, and I've had wine fresh from the barrel, cheese fresh from the goat, and baguettes warm from the oven. My sister and I started drinking aperitifs (*gasp*) at ages 9 and 12, respectively. When I reflect on this part of my life as an adult, I realize these experiences had a profound influence on my life. Not only are there times that I dream in French, but I yearn for the foods my mother created in her little French kitchen from the ingredients she got from friends, at the markets or little hidden farms, and those things we picked by the roadside. We were truly privileged to live this way!

My parents still spend time en France, where food is the focus of life. These are not the fancy sauces or gourmet dishes we see in French cookbooks, but simple foods created from produce that comes warm from a neighbor's garden plot or whatever can be procured from the boulangerie, marche, and fromagerie in town. This year, I asked my parents to photograph and keep a journal about their own experiences in local eating in the Berry, or the region of the Loire Valley where they live. I have adapted the journal here, for our reading pleasure. Mom writes from the village of Sancerre: "...the local foods have a rhythm, which we find fascinating and satisfying. We look forward to all the seasons and what the Sancerrois can produce for our table." As part of this adventure, they visit many small markets and local producers:

MYF purchasing local eggs.

"Today we visited the gardener's market on the banks of the Porte de Plaisance. There was a farming family there with melons, tomatoes, lettuce, herbs, cukes, squash, etc. I bought beets, basil, and a tiny melon. Also, from another vendor we bought a large boule of some heavy sour bread (4.50 Euro!), which was a bit serious for our tastes but is good in a toasted sandwich. Apparently someone is selling weekly "shares" because there were baskets all lined up with the same stuff in them waiting to be claimed. A far cry from Waltham, but a good start.

We also went to the St. Thibault market – very few people there. The lady in front of me was bargaining for a huge quantity of green tomatoes for making what she called the best confiture [jam]– better than any fruit. I doubt it to be true, but both vendor and buyer seemed happy with the deal and it was finally my turn. I bought three enormous beets at RCF's urging, tomatoes, and a bunch of small, pale carrots and, of course, lettuce – a big frilly head edged in red with remarkable flavor and crispness. RCF spent time ordering a jar of Provencal honey to be picked up next week.

Marche des Producteurs - selling traditional, regional cured meats.

The annual Marche des Producteurs [market featuring local producers] was in Neuvy deux Clochers this weekend. We ate frites and potato gallette, a specialty of the Berry region. MYF bought a pepper and a small eggplant from a vendor, who also had corn on the cob - a white variety, which looked to have been picked a bit young (corn on the cob is not traditional in France). She said the French were beginning to eat corn on the cob. We also bought pork liver pate, farm eggs, and a fresh cow's cheese rolled in shallot confit."

Pinot noir grapes from the Foster home garden.

Not only do Mom and Dad buy produce at the local markets, but they take full advantage of foods offered that can be gathered on public land ("pour tout le monde"). There is also a very communal feel in the neighborhood, where everybody shares food and trades garden goods. MYF writes:

"Collected mures (blackberries) in Vinon in our usual roadside spots. It was hot, but RCF persisted with the use of a metal pole for pulling the very thorny tendrils into reach. We got enough for MYF to make about a quart of tasty syrup. Went into our lower garden (where RCF, at great peril, cleared paths of weeds and dug up old stumps) to gather the ripened Pinot Noir grapes to make juice. The basketful produced two quarts of juice with some added sugar. The taste is somewhat different from the Concord juice we are used to. Many grapes still remain, which I will pick and give away because there will not be

time to drink the juice.

Albert dropped off tomatoes, St. Catherine plums, cukes, poirée, parsley, haricot beurre (wax beans), and parsley seeds to plant in the spring. RCF walked downtown to buy bread from the Rue des Juifs, where we have discovered a "crousti" – baguette with a particularly crispy crust, which we love. Upon passing Machecourt's house, he spotted M. with a large pannier [basket] of white peaches. M. said his wife was sick of peeling peaches and would we like them? So it was that MYF peeled and stewed 55 white peaches. We froze two containers and we are working on the rest, usually with yogurt and mure syrup.

It is time to be watching for the walnut trees to be dropping their nuts. We hope this will happen this weekend so we can put a quantity on the third floor to dry out over the winter. (P.S. collected walnuts Saturday and RCF stored them in the attic.) Because it is raining today we want to be alert for the first sunny warmer day to dawn. This means mushrooms."

...so their happy lives continue seasonally in France, where they have earned some lovely time to relax in their retirement. My parents continue to teach me about what it means to eat locally in a different part of the world, where they are part of a vital and productive community. I'm sure we will be hearing more from the Fosters in France!