Random meetings and Brocante in Bresse. Sunday 26th July 2009.

As JC said when we left home, "We will use my head and JR's driving" so JC sat in the navigators seat for the day and off we went. It was a treat for me to sit in the back with AJ and not have to read a map. That is one thing I wont miss when we return home, the need to navigate maps to get to almost everywhere we go.

Our first stop was not too far from home, in a little village called Corgengoux. JC spotted an old man sitting between two old farmhouses, so we stopped, he went to introduce himself and we all followed. Before long the old man, Paul, was offering us and aperitif. He disappeared into his wine cave and returned with two shiny bottles of rose. His darling wife shuffled into the kitchen and returned with some glasses. An apertitif of pamplemousse sirop and rose wine was poured for all, including Alex (he must look older than his 12 years). JC busied himself with questions and translated every minute detail for us. It was wonderful to hear about the colourful life they lead on their farm.

Their son arrived home, he is in his 50's and unmarried, apparently the girls in the villages don't stay around any more, he lives on the farm with his parents and has taken over the business. It's a hard life with not much monetary reward. Rewards seem to come in other ways though. All three wore wide grins and they were openhearted and generous with their spirit, it appeared they ate pretty well too. I was very interested to dig a little and enquire about their life here. I asked about the vegetables they grew and did they kill their Charolais beef for their own use. On wandering to the vegie patch, we saw they were rather self sufficient. There were chickens, sheep used for meat, hutches of rabbits with coffee coloured fur kelled for meat when needed, and under a cluster of pear, wine peach, and apple trees, Paul revealed a barrel of 700 snails that they will eat in the winter as escargot with garlic and parsley butter. Nearby was a bush filled with red jeweled redcurrants and Paul's vegie patch with rows of potatoes, onions, cabbages and a few varieties of tomatoes - the beef tomatoes were still bright green, unready to be plucked from their stalks, but the roma tomatoes were red as red could be. He grew gladioli too, one in peach was in bloom but the others were still closed waiting to reveal their colour. He grows the gladioli for himself because he likes them, I noticed there was a bunch in a vase in the kitchen, Paul had probably visited his garden, tucked away from the world's prying eyes, this morning, and cut the long stems for him and his wife to enjoy as they ate their Sunday lunch.


To return to the farm house we passed scragly raspberry bushes which still held perfect red teardroped shaped fruits, they were sweet and without a blemish. Paul picked me a stalk of redcurrants to eat, they were a little tart and shiny, shiny red, like a Christmas red. On a stack of old wood beside the track we walked, were preserving jars, large and small, filled with cherries straight from the tree, alcohol and sugar. Paul will leave them in the summer sun for three months before they are ready to be enjoyed as an aperitif. They fill their glasses with the cherry infused alcohol and the fruit too - what a treat!





Today was another example of random meetings with strangers who open their homes and their hearts and help to make our experience so rich. We bade them farewell and thanked them for their generous hospitality, they are some of life's beautiful people that is for sure.



JC spotted the perfect picnic spot, it was delightful and serene. At one point I said for everyone to be quiet and listen, all you could hear were the crickets, birds and the breeze in the treetops. We sat on the edge of a forest with a view of a field of rolled hay. Lunch was simple; fresh bread, fromage, and salad. We finished with a slice of caramel marble cake and were all pretty pleased with life.


We continued onto Lessard-en-Bresse, there was a brocante sale on, kind of like a car boot sale. AJ didn't want to get out of the car but was happy he did after the discovery of a lovely model Lamborghini Countach which was his for a grand total of €2, he haggled it down from €3. JC found a lovely old work bench in cherry wood he is considering having shipped home to Belgium.

JR and JC went off to shoot magic hour and came back in time for JC to cook us all his famous painted chicken. We were banished from the kitchen so he could concentrate on his cooking. He painted the plump chicken with a mix of Dijon mustard, olive oil, vinegar, herbs and seasonings and baked it until the skin bubbled and became crispy. The meat was tender and juicy, a sturdy bird, nice and fleshy. The bird was served with a crisp salad with more of the sweet melon bought from the Saturday market in Beaune, and roast potatoes painted with the same concoction as the chicken. JR and AJ ate enough to feed a small country, it was wholesome and comforting, the kind of food you would be happy to sit down to any day of the week. Thanks JC, your painted chicken has been looked forward to for a long time and it lived up to, and surpassed all expectations.