French Christmas Adventure

A variety of roots at the Marché in Besancon including beetroots, cerfeuil tubereux, parsley, Oca du Perou, crosne and topinambourg

The difficulty with uploading photographs and then not being able to move them is that I must compose a story around them or just ignore them completely.

Early on Saturday morning we had a phone call from Corinne`s mother explaining that the weather conditions were very bad, and that we might not make it to Besancon. A few minutes later there was another call, from my mother, who explained that the weather situation in Ireland was severe and that our flight may be delayed. I had already taken out the rubbish and wondered where this bad Irish weather was, or if it turned up since! It was not an auspicious start to our little trek but we stepped off the train in Besancon 14 hours later in good order. It was -14 Celsius and there was snow everywhere, but not too deep.

In describing poor driving conditions the French say "les rues sont delicates". This was the first of many double meanings which I might experience over the next few days! As the temperatures began to increase the weather changed and it also began to rain. It was still freezing and the roads. In France snow is either all good or all bad and the rain altered matters considerably making the roads deadly.

Butchers preparing meat at the marché in Besancon

The marché at Besancon is building up to the biggest family feast of the year; le Rèveillon. This is effectively a feast of gourmandies and as midnight approaches the children are put to bed just before Pere Noel (a.k.a. Santa Claus) arrives at midnight. This character, typically clad in red with a white beard, indulges in disappointent and never appears to wait around for the good childen of the land to open their presents. Obviously the disappointment of the children is short lived for the most part as they tear the wrapping from their presents.

The food is always the centre of attention during his time and the build up to Rèveillon is everywhere to be seen. The year end fixation for figures and statistics is bound up into this expectation and excitement. The chiffres (figures) reveal that there was 20,400 tonnes of foie gras produced in France in 2007. One newspaper article centered upon a producer from Alsace who had created an academy for foie gras. He elaborated on the characteristcs and qualities of the various foie gras; the vigeur (vigor) of the foie gras de canard and the douceur (sweetness) of the foie gras du oie. However, he also brought it one stage futher announcing "canoie"; a combination of foigras de canard and foie gras du oie (duck and goose livers). Foie gras forms an important part of the meal of the Rèveillon and its subtle flavours have gone through many fads and styles of preparation through the years; it is available smoked, salted or sweetened with figs and other fruits and now as canoie.

Corinne's mother has prepared her foie gras by placing it in milk for two days with salt, pepper and a little spice. After that it was wrapped in plastic and mascerated in a little port hile rolled into a cling film and bound in your best dish cloth! It tasted stunning this morning and no doubt will acquire a little more flavour from the port over the next day or so. In this part of France it is normally served with pain d'épices; a tradtional dence golden brown loaf made from honey and spices.

Chocolate snowmen or bonomme de neige at Hirsinger, Arbois

Chocolate shops do a roaring trade in France over Christmas. There are sweets everywhere from the humble papillottes to the more elaborate pieces produced by master choclatiers. The papillotte is the equivalent of our crackers at the table. They are typically a chocolate covered praline sweet and are covered in bright eye catching wrappers. While our crackers have jokes the papillottes contain questions to be posed to your fellow diners. For example "How heavy is a big male chimpanzee? a. 70 kgs; b. 90 kgs; c. 110 kgs". The answer of course, as everybody knows, is 70 kgs and more impotantly we are informed that he is three times stronger than a human male of the same weight! In contrast Corinne and myself pulled a cracker together before we left, and I was left explaing the following joke contained therein; "The local police station was burgled recently. The police had nothing to go on".

Le Morillon - a cheese stuffed with morelles

There was almost 50,000 tonnes of Comté cheese produced in Franche Comté this year, a fact based upon the offical chiffres or statistics. Cheese mongers are far from left out in this season of feasting; cheese is an essential course and every region celebrates its own produce. The fromageries or fruiteries in Franche Comté are stunning emporia and often produce their own cheese on the premises, some only selling what they produce such as bleu de gex, Comté, or Mont D'or. One shop in Champagnole sold a number of locally produced buches de chèvre or goat's cheese which I had never seen or heard of. They included Truffe ventidor, Tanpiniere and Bicaillon which were all stunning looking and quite individual in their appearance.

The scenery of the Haut Doubs of Franche Comté is dominated by pastures, forests, large farm houses and cow sheds that often resemble large farm houses. When the snow arrives it becomes a winter wonderland and the Montbeliard cattle are nowhere to be seen as they have retreated to the safe havens and sheds where the chill of the wind and snow will not be felt.

Winter in the Haut Doubs

A dash through November

November slipped by so fast it was frightening. It appeared to be a work-filled month running from one job to the next with very little time to take stock or note of what was going on around me. I do remember making some very nice chocolate biscuits and a few fish pies to keep us happy and well nourished. The dark days slipped by very quickly as we raced towards the shortest day of the year.

Today I am in Besancon with Corinne surrounded by snow and ice. The treachorous roads may keep us somewhat confined but if we get hungry we can always shoot something or other! The pears and quinces stored outside have frozen and the sweet chestnuts have dried rapidly in the chilly air.

Back home our allotment became less demanding over the last few weeks because the slugs have devoured the turnips and the beetroot are still too young. One delight however has been the growth of one of Corinne's new variety of globe artichoke plants. Despite my pleas to leave it grow for a lttle longer, she longed for the tender fresh and young leaves. So it came to pass, no sooner had I turned my back she had chopped it away from its mother plant when I had my back turned. I found the solitqry innocent inthe basket when I was loading the car. Everything tastes great with a little mayonnaise and this little specimen was no exception.

Corinne's new Globe Artichoke plant

November also means the harvest of the slug infested jerusalem artichoke plants, which lay maturing in the soil for the last few months. To my surprise they had not been too badly attacked by the useless slugs, and we had a few very pleasent meals with either roasted or steamed jerusalem artichokes (which also taste great with a little mayonnaise). The harvest of these unphotogenic critters is quite unforgettable because we wash them in the rainwater filled basins on the allotment. The water is inevitably freezing and my hands are throbbing with pain by the time I have washed the mud from them. The real reason for a lack of photgraphs at this point is because my fingers became paralysed in the cold water. A sensation which repeated itself yesterday after shovelling snow for a period.

During November I managed to get away for a few days to Holland, and spent a day in Haarlem before meeting friends in Amsterdam. There are times when you need to have some time to yourself and Haarlem I believe is the place to do it. It is much smaaler than Amsterdam but still has all the charm. The city is disected by the Spaarne river. Below are a few views of Haarlem to enjoy.

Check out the wonderful furniture of Piet Hein Eek

Traditional boats on the Spaarne with St Bavo`s cathedral in the background

Halloween was still in the air but so were the Christmas lights like so many cities

Sinterclas and Zwart Piet were making their entrance into the cities of the low countries the weekend I had arrived. There were a lot of beautiful wreaths of flowers, berries and fruit to hang on your door, or indeed decorate your beloved bicycle. I am contemplating bloging Conor`s Christmas Adventure (if I am allowed - so stay tuned in).
All errors above are due to defective and non standard French keyboards.

Another weekend trip to France

Last weekend was a long holiday weekend in Ireland and I flew to France to meet Corinne. I did this reluctantly because I was going to miss my annual pilgrimage to the the Pumpkin Festival in Virginia, County Cavan. With tears still in my eyes, I gathered the courage and resolve to ascend the stairs and boarded the plane exposing my eyes to the acidic yellow and blue interior.

Landing somewhere in the north of France, I quickly made my way to Paris on that dark wet morning. The city was robed in a chic damp and misty fog (not to be associated with the drenching a Celtic mist might provide). Once I got my bearings, I made my way to Rue deTermes and the Marche du Termes, awaiting the surprise of what seasonal offerings would be available for purchase in that market. Autumn was in full flight at the market, and my first sight of things to come as I turned the corner were bunches of deep red, and almost black skinned, muscat grapes side by side with their pale opalescent cousins the chasselas.

A selection of meaty ceps

The true motif of October in Europe is the cep mushroom. Plastic imitations sit in most windows from department stores to hairdressers and chemists. The muscular cep mushrooms (boletus edulis) were displayed at a number of stalls. Many of their deep earthy brown caps still had leaves and twigs attached from the forest floor where they were plucked. A number of them were sliced revealing their perfect white flesh and soft golden tubular gills. There were not many for sale and only a few stalls had a scattering of them. The unseasonal warm and dry weather may not have played its part and with frosts not too distant, the season may be a short one.

A table of vibrant girolles

Perfect cauliflowers from Marche de Termes

Morelles and Ceps

The experience was not over and the symphony had only just begun; the mushroom feast continued and a table at the top of the street had a large spread of bright yellow girolles. Small piles of fresh morelles were gathered together in an ostentatious display of luxurious seasonal wealth. On other stalls the hardy and tasty greens and seasonal vegtables were offered for sale.

Sensational scallops

The fish sellers' stalls were equally exuberant with large platters of shelled scallops neatly displayed with their crescents of orange coral adding a vibrant colourful life to the sight. Troughs, basins and indeed baths containing arrangments of large majestic ochre orange and white ridged scallop shells. Great piles of crevettes grises, langoustines of every possible size and sea urchins dominated the displays but what really caught my eye were the very large and very fresh turbot and bass.

Maison Pou

Time was not on my side, and I quickly made my way to Maison Pou to gaze in the windows at what was on offer. The prepared meals always look wonderful and this day featured cailles en jellee (quails in jelly), and poulet en gellee (oddly enough chicken in jelly), artichauts norvegen (Norwegian artichokes), Bavarois de Homard and Saumon farcie among other delightful delicacies.

Detail of a decorated cake for Maison Pou

Meanwhile in the middle of Conor's great escape, Corinne was texting the times of the trains to Besancon. The information soon changed character informing me that tickets for trains were being sold out quite quickly as it was a holiday weekend in France. I made my way to Gare de Lyon with the intention of purchasing a ticket and joining the rush for the East. Having successfully achieved this task, and equally happy that I was not going to walk to Franche Comte, I set out to treat myself to lunch. I had three and half hours to fill so I decided to go across town to the 14th arrondissement to Le Zeyer. I had missed lunch everyday the preceding week and was desperate to redress the balance looking forward to a few hours of dismantling crabs, other crustaceans and a selection of the best oysters France had to offer.

It was two years since I had visited Le Zeyer, and it was all that I remembered it to be. The lush warm decadent art deco interior echoed the weath and style of another era; surfaces veneered with burr walnut, lines of red velvet coated pews topped with polished gleaming brass rails, together with bright lanterns and an abstract art deco leaded glass ceiling contributed to a unique experience of colour and texture. I was always assured the shellfish at Le Zeyer was of a really high standard; I was not disappointed. Three hours was my target to complete the sizeable task of getting to grips with the choix de l'ecaille (or sea food mountain) which I had ordered. As I remained undecided over my choise of wine, I cast my eye about the menu and thoughts wandered to a group of special friends when I spotted a rose wine from Ramatuelle on the south coast of France. For a number of years we had raced a yacht at Les Voiles de St. Tropez together. When the racing was cancelled or postponed due to a warning of a mistral hurtling through the Gulf du Lyons, we would venture out of St Tropez or Grimaud and go to the hilltop village of Ramatuelle in order to pay homage to a great producer of rose wine and typically some fine stuffed ravioli and deep fried courgette flowers.

My three hours passed very quickly dissecting and dismantling the crustaceans, shaking a variety of oysters and other shellfish from their shells, and before long I was on the 15 58 TGV from Gare de Lyon to Besancon. I found Franche Comte as ever singular and different, separate and distinct is nearly every way. From the rich delicate flavours of the mont d'or and comte cheese to the strongly flavoured saucise de morteau, jambon fumee and the chardonnay and savagnin wines of the region. Burgundy which is separated from the Jura and Franche Comte region by the Soane in many places is almost an opposite and very French. My time here was short and I savoured every minute but it was not long before we had to return to Dublin. Incidentally, before I left I managed to see a basket of pumpkins and gourds the like of which I probably would not have seen in Virginia, County Cavan.

A basket of mutant deformed gourds and pumpkins from the market in Beasnacon

The Good Life - Images and colours of Autumn

Dublin just before dawn crossing the Liffey

Brown birch bolet in the woods

A few brown birch bolets and a lettuce from the allotment

A white turnip from the allotment

The last flourish of raspberries from the allotment

Sun setting in a forest of silver birch

The Good Life - An Autumn Weekend

Young pheasants making a run for it!

October has arrived and the fields nearby have been ploughed and tilled. The earth in the raised beds of the allotment is cracked and open awaiting the first nourishing drops of rain. Friday evening ended with the arrival of strong winds and on Saturday every gust of wind pressed and accelerated passed the allotment. This sudden change did not bring any precipitation. Instead by the evening a large full moon rose on a clear and bright horizon, illuminating the sky, before it rose further above the thin layers of mixed cloud cover. In the last few days the sun's light has changed dramatically and the air temperature during the day is no longer holds its warmth.

With most of the beds dug and prepared for the Winter we settled upon collecting hazelnuts from a small line of trees nearby. The wind had blown many of the nuts from their branches while others clung tightly, safe in a haven under broad leafy cover. Taking the clusters of nuts from the trees we twisted them easily in their dried fleshy coat, releasing the mahogany coloured nuts.

While the ground looks dry it is still extremely productive. In particular the raspberry canes continue to produce a significant number of fruit; much more than last year. It is a constant surprise to arrive and always finding another supply of deep cerise red berries ready to pick. Elsewhere the sorrel and spinach continue to grow and we are chopping back the parsley borders freezing cubes of parsley with a little water to use in sauces over the Winter. Pumpkins and turnips continue to grow well but one can only wonder what their growth rate will be like when it begins to rain once again.

The Good Life - Approaching the end of September

The greenhouse at Ardgillan Castle in north County Dublin

It was yet another dry and warm weekend. Cloud would gather in the sky and suddenly break up bringing warm spells of bright sunshine. In the hedgerows damsons or bullace plums had spent a number of weeks ripening in clusters their under leafy cover and were now ready to be bagged for gin and jelly. The last two evenings have been spent washing and cleaning these tart little fruit in order to stew them and extract the rich claret coloured juice. I have promised some friends a jar or two to taste and may try and force them to take a jar of my experimental blackberry and elderberry jelly as well.

In the allotment on Saturday afternoon we dug a small trough in the ground and filled it with charcoal and surrounded the earth oven with bricks. We had prepared a little salad and brought some wine to drink (Cotes du Jura Port Lesney by Domaine de la Pinte 1999), and then proceeded to cook beef, corn and fennel on a cheap cake stand which had been quickly reengineered as a grill. While we were eating I set about cooking a fillet of pork for Sunday's evening meal. After seasoning and rubbing in some herbs de provence and a little olive oil, I placed freshly cut branches of mint and thyme by the fillets. The fillets were then covered with heavily scented fronds of fennel. Occasionally turning the meat I replaced the mint and fennel with a fresh batch setting the spent and dried coverings on the coals causing it to smoke the meat above. Normally I burn meat on a BBQ but this really worked well; it took about 40 minutes to cook and it looked as if it had just come out of a wood fired oven. This was just at the right time because the mosquitos were beginning to arrive in force for their own evening meal.

The pork, which had an good strong herb and smokey flavour, was sliced and served with some homemade coleslaw and a melange of broad beans, garden peas, borlotti beans and french beans. These were the spoils from clearing a few of the raised beds. They were lightly boiled together and then strained only to be fried in a parsley and garlic butter. We finished the meal with a seasonal apple and damson cobbler. It is now inevitable I will be forced to take to my bike in the coming weeks to counteract the weight gain!

September has always been the most reliable month in Ireland but this year it has certainly been exceptional. It has almost been too dry and the ground is now dry and hard. The birch forests are finally losing the green colouring of their foliage passing quickly but not uniformly into a golden phase, turning these forests into a mosaic of colour when the low sun beams its rays deep into the woods. The other deciduous trees will follow their lead and then the countryside will plunge irreversibly into the last days of Autumn and Winter.

The caterpillars have stopped eating the broccoli!

The Good Life - Indian Summer

Last weekend was spent digging, planting seedlings for the coming months, and picking over what was available in the allotment. The good weather finally arrived as promised and we were basking in the sunshine all weekend. Unusually, there were not many mushrooms to be found. A number of people are walking through and clearing the small birch forests so their growth could be affected. To counteract this disappointment, a number of damson trees close to the allotment are almost ready to harvest; the small deep purple/blue fruit are softening as they ripen through September. Elsewhere we have found hazelnuts and have begun to hang a few small bags to dry them although they are particularly nice when fresh. We decided to limit our take from the allotment this weekend and only picked a courgette, a young injured pumpkin and some sweet corn.

Sunday evening was set aside for a special task. We picked raspberries while killing some time before paying a visit to an orchard just before sunset. The orchard is a feature on a local golf course and many of the trees are not in the best of health and in some cases clearly need attention. We take it upon ourselves every year to collect a few bags of apples rather than having them rot into the ground. They are generally the cooking or bramley apples, but one or two of the trees produce a small eating apple.

The orchard is not easy to get to. You have to trudge through damp fields and steep ditches, and all this in failing Autumn light to avoid the attention of the golfing community. The still evening sunlight cast just enough light for a few minutes when we reached the orchard, but quickly faded and before long it was time to retreat. We returned by a different route through fields of low lying mist making our way up onto a country path above which the evening sky was still tinted with shades of salmon and grey by the sun which had long disappeared over the silvan horizon. In the forests only the darkest of green hues were visible and the pasture field to our left was full of a dense misty fog which spilled over the fencing much like water overflowing from a bath as the track ahead of us was slowly enveloped.

Back at home I set about cooking a large cake and decided to make a bakewell tart in a large square cake tin I acquired some months ago. This was partially inspired by a slice of bakewell tart my father had brought to me the week before, but I still craved for the rich combination and contrasting flavours of fresh raspberries and a rich almond frangipane. There was to be no half hearted thin layer of tasteless red jam and pale stodge for a frangipane which all too often carries a distinct lingering smell of almond essence.

For the pastry I decided to use a short crust type using a 2:1 ratio flour to butter but also added a desert spoon of almonds and a similar amount of icing sugar. The frangipane was quite rich with 150 grams sugar, 150 grams butter, 150 grams ground almonds, 3 eggs and one egg yolk, some grated lemon zest and a heaped tablespoon of flour with flaked almonds to scatter over the top. (I describe the basics of my simple guide to pastry and frangipane here). Essentially you just spread two or three tablespoons of raspberry jelly on the pastry and scatter the raspberries over the jelly. cover with the frangipane and cook.

I must acknowledge the source of the raspberry jelly which was made by Marie Claire Paillard, a friend of Corinne's from Franche Comte. Marie Claire and her husband Michel pick the wild raspberries, blueberries and strawberries from the forests, pastures and bogs close to where they live in Frasne. On a recent visit I managed to scoop her recipe for the raspberry jelly which read with the rhythm and simplicity of an iambic pentameter, but as usual my English has bludgeoned some of the vibrant life from it.

Here is the recipe for Gelee Frambois

Chauffer les fruits, Heat the fruit
Ensuite les presser ou serrer le jus Then press or strain the juice
mettre poids egal de sucre Add an equal weigh of sugar
Cuit environ 10 a 15 min Cook for 10 to 15 minutes
mettre au pot Place in the pot

I normally add about 100mls of water for every pound of fruit to prevent scorching and then strain the cooked fruit in a muslin bag over night. As regards sugar, Marie Claire's recipe adds slightly less sugar than I would typically add. My ratio is generally 450 grams to 600 mls of juice. Finally, although Marie Claire does not mention it, the jars or pots should always be sterilised. I took the time to try this reduced sugar method with some elderberries and blackberries I picked: it was a soft set jelly with an excellent and strong flavour.

Monday morning was a somewhat rushed affair and I found that every surface was covered with unwashed pots and bowls just as I had abandoned them the night before. Two large bags of apples formed an early obstacle to the day but I eventually sat down to a cup of freshly ground coffee and a large indulgent, and undeserved slice of bakewell tart, while I refused to raise a eye to the clutter of pots and pans.

The Good Life - Harvest on the 5th September and hunting for forest fungi

The harvest this weekend was a real mixed bag as we rescued many veggies from the clutches of the voracious jaws of millions of slugs that have now arrived on site. These little guys are far from cute and are over motivated for my liking; the infestation is almost out of control. They are quite attached to the haricot beans and large courgettes have been reduced to an unrecognisable pulpy mass - It's time for the pellets!

A great example of a Leccinum Scabrum in its natural environment

I did a little mushroom hunting as well over the weekend finding a few prize examples of Leccinum Scabrum or brown birch bolet. I decided to explore a small patch where some young oak and hazel were growing and found a good quantity of Lepista Nuda or wood blewits. A good number of examples were spread all over the forest floor. All were at various stages of growth; the older examples curling their caps having spread their spores before retreating back to the forest floor, and the pale and violet caps of the younger lepista nuda bursting through the mossy forest floor.

Lepista Nuda cut and ready for the pot

GIn the same forest, probably more correct to describe it as a copse, I found a large quantity scleroderma verrucosum or scaly earth ball. These diminutive puffball mushrooms are not perfectly round but appear somewhat flattened, and are generally less than 4 cms in diameter with a small foot or stem. They are generally light ochre yellow brown in colouri with a scaly appearance to the surface of the mushroom. The younger fungi are solid with a black center; the older and slightly larger examples are soft and will burst easily releasing the spores. They are said to be toxic and should not be eaten or picked and mixed with other fungi that you intend to eat.

Scleroderma Verrucosum

A weekend trip to France

Figs and Mirabelles

The last post was complicated by issues with my Irish fraudband but thankfully I have been upgraded to intermittent poor service and can now type and save without too much difficulty. Last weekend I went to France to be with Corrine to help her out. Having arrived in Paris, I had a few hours to occupy before catching the TGV to Frasne not far from the Swiss border. I normally try to visit a small street market called the Marche de Ternes situated close to the Rue de Ternes and Porte Maillot. A good breeze coming up the Seine meant that the temperature would never be too stifling and I could walk around in comfort. The market is quite compact and occupies a portion of two small streets that radiate from a "v" shaped intersection. Street traders operate from stalls in front of an array of specialist shops and stores selling an assortment of produce including fish, meat, cheese, green grocers and fruit merchants.

Girolles

Turning the corner and arriving at the market with damp cobbles under foot I was confronted with a scene of busy preparation as the last additions were being placed on elegantly prepared displays of seasonal shellfish and fruit. Large tables of cool yellow girolles required little immediately caught my eye before it quickly travelled to the vast quantities of diminutive blushing golden mirabelles, adjacent to plums and gages and ripe figs. Bunches of opalescent pale chasselas grapes signalled the early season harvesting of grapes. In Dublin we are still picking artichokes and I thought the European crops had come ot an end by the early summer but I spotted an enormous variety of artichokes with large fleshy leaves dwarfing bunches of suedes and cauliflowers.

Artichokes and suedes

August is also one of the best months of the year for shellfish and despite the annual evacuation of the Parisians at this time of year to the South of France and Guadeloupe a great variety of shellfish was set out in well crafted icy displays grouping together vast mounds of langoustines, amandes and cooked shore crab.

Quite close by is one of my favourite places in Paris; Maison Pou on Rue du Ternes is not Fauchon, and never will be, but it essentially does the same thing cooking and preparing classic meals, dishes, meats and pates causing the havoc with the decision making skills of the hungry Parisian. The shop's style shirks the modernity and the crisp neat shapes and abstract forms that one might expect from Fauchon. The cooking and presentation of the food is easily recognisable as what I would consider to be classically French.

Delicacies of Maison Fou

I purchased my tickets in Gare de Lyon and wandered about for a while trying to find somewhere to eat. Eventually, I happened upn a neighbourhood restaurant of Reu Didertot and was put through my paces with the chef's foie gras to start, Lapin au moutard for main course and mirabelle clafoutis to finish. By this time the warmth of the sunshine needed to be suppressed and I allowed myself a refreshing glass or two of rose from the Pays du Gard.

I awoke the next morning in the small village of Couvieres. With warm sunlight flooding in through an open window that also allowed a comforting breeze circulate the room I breakfasted on coffee, toast with a reine claude plum jam and peaches fresh from the tree. Courvieres is immediately surrounded by pastures where the Monbelliard cattle graze and horses roam. The pastures are bounded all around by vast forests of tall straight powerful pine trees.

Horses near Couvieres

On Sunday morning we went for a short walk in the forests to hunt down a few mushrooms. There had not been much rainfall in the past few weeks in Courvieres, and we did not expect to find much. However, through one stretch of forest we doscovered a proliferation of Phallus Hadrian or stinkhorns; some spent and fallen down on the ground from where they literally hatched, others still proudly standing to attention freshly emerged from their embryonic sack with pitted and ribbed caps at the tip. If and when the rains arrive there may by a mycological explosion but it will not last long because the frosts will begin to become quite severe at 850 meters above sea level by the middle of September.

Phallus Hadriani emergging from the forest floor

Reading the newspapers it is difficult to escape the difference in the news reporting; the Irish media dwells upon one crisis followed by another where we have apparently been the author of our own misfortune (in reality a series of disasters created by a select few). In contrast the L'Est Republican carried a front page story on the announcements of various wine producers that they were in the last throws of preparing for the start of the vendage, or the picking of the grapes for their annual wine production. Elsewhere in the paper, my eye was caught by this full page add heralding the arrival of the Mont D'Or cheese. This cheese available during the Autumn and Winter months is one of my personal highlights of the year and launches me into new world of goumandises and a few weekends of gluttony.

The arrival of the iconicly seasonal Mont D'Or cheese

The Good Life - Harvest on the 31st August

The Good Life - Harvest on 22nd August

Today's take from the allotment was modest because I am cooking for one. The green and yellow haricots are just ready and there should be a few more weeks of production from these plants. The second crop of peas are coming along nicely and the swollen pods are filled with the sweetest peas I have ever tasted. Corinne's butternut squash plants are producing the nicest courgettes and there should be more to come in the next three or four weeks. Likewise we should have a few patisson for the pot over the same period. the end of August and start of September is all about the sweet corn and I have broken off a few cobs to keep me going during the week.

The last week has brought about a big change in the allotment as there has been a lot of growth over this period; the result of a good balance of rain and good periods of sunshine. The courgette plants, beans lettuce and beetroot have all filled out and matured well.

View from below showing partial veil and white gills

As I walked home this morning, I decided to take a closer look at the conifers on the route and check out what was growing around them. I am aware that some varieties of Amanita are mycorrhizal with conifers. The example photographed above and below has many characteristics common with the Amanita genus; crowded white gills, partial veil and a volva at the base of the stem. However, the cap is a little unusual for an Amanita as it has a scaled or feathered appearance almost appears to be pealing. I have not been able to identify this variety but Rome was not built in a day and there are about 600 varieties to chose from! As I have mentioned on a number of occasions the Amanitas, apart from a handful of examples, are toxic and in some cases deadly poisonous. They should not be eaten, or picked and mixed with mushrooms that you intend to eat.

Side view of mushroom

The Good Life - Amantia Phalloides or Death Cap (absolutely deadly)

Bees continue the important process of pollination

Corinne has retreated to Franche Comte and I have been left on my own to weed and attend to a few small tasks in the allotment. The weather was forecasted to be unsettled for the last few days and this weekend but it has actually been quite refreshing, being mild with a cooling breeze and intermittent spells of bright sunshine. Generally "unsettled" means you should always have a coat to hand to protect you from frequent showers.

With a solid dose of optimism I walked confidently to the allotment early this morning and went for my usual forays in the forests but was disappointed only to find one bolet and a few amethyst deceivers. I simply noted their position but did not pick them. I also took the opportunity to inspect the growth of the blackberries and elderberries because they will be ripening soon. I am aware of a few wild souls who may be experimenting with making elderflower wine this year but I will definitely be making making another batch of blackberry jelly this year.

Patisson

The patisson, or patty pan squash, plant has provided us with one good sized patisson to date and is currently producing three more; they should be ready to pick in about two weeks. I tried a potato and patisson gratinee with the last one and will fine tune this recipe for the next crop and report back in due course. The courgettes are growing nicely and some courgettes which are meant to be butternut squash are also developing well. I will have to chat to Corinne about this planting error upon her return!

While the broad beans appear to have been a failure this year, I am quite hopeful that the current dry (or shall we say less wet) spell will provide a good crop of yellow and green french beans. These plants are progressing well in their raised beds, and we should be able to have a few meals from them in the coming weeks. A second crop of peas and broad beans are also progressing quite quickly which is encouraging and we might yet be able to put a decent plate of broad beans on the table. Meanwhile our crop of salad leaves and lettuce is coming on very well. These were initially planted among the corn and transplanted out into a bed once the first drop of peas had been cleared.

Wonderful head of red lettuce

Walking home, I took a detour through Newbridge house and among the oak trees I noticed a solitary mushroom growing on the ground close to one of the smaller trees. The round broadly convex cap was shiny but patchy in places with a metallic ivory colouring. Beneath the cap the ringlike veil was unbroken; this thin fibrous delicate skin covered the gills. The cap measured in the region of 120mm in diameter. The thick stem had a large volval sack attached to its base. This was a young mushroom and it did not have a distinctive smell.

Amanita Phalloides

View of the foot and underside of the cap of the Aminita phalloides

While magnificent, the Amanita phalloides is deadly poisonous and should not be picked. There is no known antidote to the toxins in this mushroom. It ultimately causes liver and kidney failure so do not touch it, and if it does end up in your basket of wild mushrooms throw the entire basket away because the deadly poisonous spores will become attached to other mushrooms. This Amanita is in season from late Summer through to the Autumn and is mycorrhizal with the oak tree but has been found growing with other deciduous trees. I removed it because there were children playing closeby and generally running around the park area, but I took great care carrying it away and carefully washed my hands afterwards.

Aminita phalloides cross section

A short weekend excursion on foot these days rarely leaves me with nothing of note; every step and glance can reveal a great variey of nature's beautiful and deadly creations. In particular, August marks an important turning point bringing the Summer to a close and turning attentions towards the harvest. Looking ahead the riches of Autumn are yet to come as trees and shrubs end their annual cycle producing their fruit.