Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
There would be no more cheap, nasty, imposter Camemberts in our house.
Duck is a major part of the cuisine of the Dordogne and the Périgord. My best duck breast
of all time was enjoyed al fresco at the Saussignac market from an artisanal producer who
grilled it right in front of me on a medieval iron platter hung over an open fire.
Free, with music and dancing included, Saussignac night market was chock-full of the
ambiance of a summer
sans soucis
(without worries). As evening fell, traders erected stalls
and music began to waft through the village square where tables had been arranged by en-
ergetic village volunteers. The DJ, a dynamic extrovert with a wide smile, set up his stand
right against the church. Soon he was boogying and shaking to wild rock music under the
clock tower. It was loaded with all the irony I had come to expect of France.
We were selling our wines for the first time at a market. Soon I was frenetically serving
people by the glass. Sean went back to Garrigue for more cold wine.
'J'aime ce vin,'
(I like this wine) said Olivier, our winemaking neighbour, coming back to
buy a second bottle of sauvignon blanc from our stall. 'It's different. It's very good.'
Myheart swelled with joy.Olivier was from a winegrowing family ofseveral generations.
His comments were high praise. Olivier's return for another bottle spoke more than his
words.
Seanranafterourtwogirlsweavingbetweentablesintheirprettypinkdresses.Hebought
moules et frites
, mussels and chips, and they enjoyed a finger feast standing next to our
stall. Then,leaving Seantomanthestand,ItookthegirlstoboogiewiththeDJintheshad-
ow of the church. We could have danced all night if the toilet facilities had been in better
shape, but alas, they were
à la turque
and not quite spotless.
We decided to make our first foray into livestock: chickens. Animals were important to the
whole farm concept of biodynamics and they would improve our self-sufficiency. Despite
the pressure of early summer mowing, weeding and shoot removal Sean ordered the chick-
ens, knowing a deadline was what he needed to build the house and run.
'What kind of chickens did you order?' I asked.
'I don't know. They're the type the co-op supply as laying hens.'
'But what colour will they be?'
'I don't know.'
This said it all about the difference between men and women. For me, our chickens
needed to be the cute golden-brown ones with white undercarriage, not any old chickens.
For Sean, so long as they laid eggs, he wasn't too pushed.
