(the misadventures of an expatriate corporate dropout)

Friday, June 19, 2009

my morning...

rose for a walk in my garden ... dogs at my heels. weeded maché, picked a potful of fresh green beans, puttered in the tomato plants. Brilliant sun, blue skys, masses of birds singing.

grabbed the bike and headed to the boulangerie. The petite madame is now friendly with me and asks what I am looking for. "Je cherche pour un pain paysan". "Deux minutes, madame!". I look into the rear room to see monsieur unloading fresh loves from the enormous old brick bread oven. She brings me out a warm round loaf. She nods approvingly as I sort out my centimes and get it right on only the 2nd try! (why do I always fail to have my glasses here?).

pedal home, prepare a fresh coffee with beans from Corsica that I bought at yesterday's market, steamed whole milk and cream, and a snip of vanilla bean from my trip to Africa.

grab my volume of La Bonne Cuisine (the original companion for french home cooking, written by Madame Saint-Ange in 1927 and translated by Paul Aratow of Chez Panisse fame ...) for some morning reading and inspiration.

look at the clock ... it is 9:01.

bon week-end!


Randal Graves said...

Tell me that's your gate. I love that old, worn stone.

softinthehead said...

Parfait - très jaloux mais seulement deux semaines et moi soyez en France moi-même :)

Non Je Ne Regrette Rien said...

that's my gate...something as simple as that made me fall in love with my home...

soft ~ 2 weeks! Super! bon courage et felicitations!