A Late Summer Morning on the Farm

 Sometimes but not often enough I get to escape outside to do the chores in the early morning.  Before children are running up and down the driveway... before the chickens have been let out...

 It's so peaceful...

 I'll load the baby in the stroller and we do the chores together in the cool yellow sunlight...

 Enjoying the last green views of the garden before fall sets in... I love this photo.

 My little trooper loaded up with feed.

 Two of our three rabbit breeding stock: Melissa and Lloyd

 Bonjour Valentino.

 Brother and sister.  Greedy for Grain.

 Like something out of Beatrix Potter a farm cat on the edge of the cistern spying on goldfish...

 Our other breeding doe:  Thelma

 Mornings are for scratching out cookbook ideas in my notebook that lives on the kitchen counter - ever ready...

 For delicious breakfasts you grew and raised yourself...

 For flower arranging to brighten the day...

 And for simple observations before the day kicks in.

_____

These photos are from about three weeks ago.  

All month long I have had Paris on the brain.  It happens every fall.  It's been over ten years.  

Sigh.

 I love mornings in Paris... the diesel smell of the green garbage trucks, the sound of café chairs being unstacked, the sea gulls on the river.

But right now I have this farm to enjoy.

The September morning sun is creeping through the trees.

I'd better get outside.

Angela,

Parisienne Farmgirl

This post is part of the Barn Hop!

 

Sunday Mornings in Paris

I am currently enjoying the pleasure of helping my sister-in-law plan her trip to Paris and other parts of France.  

I could do this for a living!  

Before our first trip to Paris so many years ago I studied so hard for so long, learning the city that when we came up the stairs out of our R.E.R. stop I walked us straight to our hotel, without even using a map. I was only 25 and it felt like quite an accomplishment.

The city is burned into my brain.  

One suggestion I will give my SIL in our next round of correspondence is to be sure to enjoy Paris on a Sunday morning.  Sure, it would be fun to groove the night away at the Bain Douche or even some dumpy little local club like Club Z... but if you save enough energy for Sunday morning... you will have Paris all to yourself.  It's a photographers dream.  The bistro chairs will be stacked atop each other in the café windows and the only people you will encounter are a handful of indulgers stumbling home and the hotel keepers washing off their front door step with a mop and a bucket.  You can walk right out into the middle of the Blvd. St. Michel and snap a photo like I did here.

I hope to go again with my whole clan in the next two or three years... 

Any plans for Paris??

Christmas in Paris

I wish.

I love Paris in the Winter when it drizzles...

I have had the pleasure of seeing it snow in Paris though.  One afternoon I walked out of the Opéra Garnier only to find the city covered in light, fluffy snow.

Why is snow horrible here in the Chicago suburbs but trés romantique there?

I am slowly but surely scanning my photos from my month in Paris.. finally...

can you guess what I'm working on?
Hmmmm....

I took a break from the project this morning and had a little fun editing these photos so we could all dream of Christmas is Paris.
I can't wait to return... how about you?

Sigh.

A Bientôt!

In Search of... Parisian financiers.

Les Financiers.

Fee-nawn-seeaye.

See my new link on the side bar?
 That's the bakery where I bought my bread when I had my apartment in Paris.

La Maison Kayser.


Worth standing in line for.
And I did.
And would again.
And WILL again.

La Maison Kayser was just a few blocks from my apartment on Rue de la Bucherie (just down from Shakespeare & Co.).  The perfect brisk walk in the late afternoon.  I always went for a warm, fresh, crunchy baguette; right around 5 pm.

One afternoon something caught my eye and how anything caught my eye is beyond me.  Have you ever been in a Parisian boulangerie with a dozen hurried Parisians pressing behind you anxious to place their own orders?
Pressing, pressing, pressing.
 Pressure, pressure, pressure. 

But one day a little treat caught my eye, it looked sort of like a muffin, only... not.  It had raspberries which totally peaked my interest and it was called a "Financier".

Never heard of it?
Neither had I.

But I bought one, along with the best baguette in Paris (a mon avis) and the taste of that little Financier has never left my mind.  It's was like that first macaron I ever tasted, or my first sip of a St. Émilion...
a financier.

I don't think I can describe the taste for you... a little almondy, crispy edges, not too sweet, not crumbly like a raspberry muffin would be... it's been 6 years since I enjoyed the taste but when I taste it again, I will know.
I have been googling recipes, desperate to re-create that moment.  My baguettes have gotten very good over the last few years, macarons have become enough to satisfy any Ladurée craving I may have...

The financiers however are still a work in progress.
I tried some the other day and sat down, full of anticipation.... they were a bit of a disappointment.
C'est dommage.

So, calling all foodies...
this is an S.O.S.
I know I even have some Parisian readers.
 I am desperate.
I need the perfect, Eric Kayser-esque financier recipe.  I am going to keep making them 'til I find one I like.  Please do share if you are familiar with Eric or if you have a recipe that might remind me of those wonderful days it Paris.
Just like the patience it took to perfect the macarons, It WILL be worth the wait and they will be shared it you the moment I have success!

Today in the Kitchen - Adventures in St. Émilion & Pot Roast

Less than four weeks 'til the SALE and this week is crammed.  I miss all of you so much and I am so sorry I have not been commenting on your blogs.  I am doing my best to read them but forgive me if I am silent... this sale is going to be so wonderful... I look forward to meeting many of you.

'Hope this post brings a bit of entertainment... don't think I'll be back 'til later this week!

This is my favorite bottle of wine.  OK, at least my most favorite that I can get my hands on...more on that later.  Weekends have been rough for us lately, Joel has his fairly new (Thanks be to God) job and he has a quarterly shift bid...this quarter we were blessed with two days back to back off; Thursday and Friday... and a little shock come Saturday morning.  This Saturday he was up at 3:30 a.m. and not home 'til 4:30 and I knew nothing would make him happier than to stumble home to a Pot Roast... his favorite.  All the cheap wine in the house was gone and one of our 4 coveted bottles in the basement was calling my name.  What better reason to crack open a very special  1997 St. Émilion Chateau St. George than for just about no reason at all.  Thirteen years is a long time to store a bottle in a humid basement and I was praying it had not turned to vinegar... more on that later.

St. Émilion is one of the 4 or 5 places I have traveled to in France and though I am no expert on the Bordeaux region I would HIGHLY recommend it.  We traveled by way of train from Paris to Bordeaux and rented to car to get there.  (Be sure you can 1.  Read a map without threatening your marriage with divorce or murder 2. Drive a stick and 3. Handle a round about without having a panic attack - thankfully we each can do all three - those are just a few of the reasons I think we would kick bootie on the Amazing Race!!!)  I digress...

St. Émilion is an ancient map dot of a town and had long been a favorite region for me when it came to picking a bottle of wine.  Seriously, you can walk into about any wine store (notice I did not say liquor store) and find a St. Émilion and it's probably gonna please.  Bring it to a dinner party hosted by French friends and they are sure to compliment you.  Prices typically start around $18.00...

I am not one to show up in Paris ("like" all three times I've been there) without a reservation but I am fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants enough that I will venture out of the city with nary a clue of where to stay or if there will be a car to rent for that matter (we got the LAST car between all the rental agencies near the train station!!!) so when we finally arrived we were on a mission to find charming and affordable accommodations.  We were only staying one night and the next day it was on to Perigeuex to stay with some Stateside friends who have a house there - lucky us, our trips coincided.  

Not all French hotels are what we girly Francophiles dream of.  Many are sterile and icky.  But we hit the jackpot.  We gave the man at the desk our budget (100 Euro) and he apologetically took us to the top floor of his hotel to a small room that was once the attic.  He thought we would hate it.  Oh, how he was wrong!   After my 17 square meter, indoor/ outdoor futon decorated Paris apartment this room was Versailles!!!  Decked in orange toile with Louis 16th repro furniture and a giant bathroom.  I was thrilled.  So thrilled in fact that of the 30 rolls of film I went thru during those 6 weeks I forgot to take a photograph.  Hopefully my memory serves me well of it's description.

All I wanted to do was get back in our little car and go exploring!!!  The vines were bare but I was anxious to see more.  There is something surreal about seeing Chateau after Chateau... vineyard after vineyard.  

Shortly after leaving "town" I pointed to Joel, "Look over there!  Do you see those spires! I SWEAR I know that Chateau!  Drive in that direction!!!"

And lo-and-behold I was right.  I did know those spires... and we found ourselves right in front of Chateau St. George - the birthplace of my favorite bottle of wine.  You could probably hear my screams back in the States!

Back then (6 years ago - read before children!!! Ha!) Joel was a bit more reserved than he is today and I had to BEG him to drive down the long drive and take a peek.  It's a business for Pete's sake - surely we aren't the only people that have ever wandered about!  He did, though not as thoroughly as I would have liked, but we did find these stacks of bottles ready to leave and be labeled... the sunset reflecting off of them...

I'll take two please...

Then we snapped a picture of the gates... If only they had been open I swear I would have knocked on the door... 

you KNOW I would have...

Alas, no one was about and our stomachs were pleading with us to find a good dinner; little did I know it would be the best meal I have ever had... ever...

St.  Émilion is small but full of tiny streets and hilly alleys...  

We stopped into a couple places that were full and could not take us.  It was like "no room in the inn" and I was wondering if we would ever eat - never mind that we had been out driving around and had not had ONE DROP OF WINE YET!!!  The next maitre'd we spoke to apologized but he only had one small table... get this... 

IN THE WINE CELLAR!!!!  

He felt so bad but it was all he could do for us.

He led us thru the restaurant and into a little room with a pea gravel floor!!!!  

Really ladies... a pea gravel floor!!! 

 Trés charment!  

He lit our candle for us, our waiter took our order and graciously helped us choose a bottle of wine...   THE BEST BOTTLE OF WINE I HAD EVER HAD OR HAVE EVER HAD!  Seriously,  it was like liquid velvet... no sharp Cali Cab or chintzy cheap Australian Shiraz at your in-laws Christmas party here... this was the stuff of dreams... I had fois gras (a favorite of mine, Peta be damned) fried on a salad... and that wine... oh, that wine... 

The next day we drove until we found the name on a sign at small estate just outside the teeny hamlet of St. George.

I will forever remember that bottle of wine.  The closest thing I have found here is a Moulin St. George/ St. Émilion which I promptly bought.  It's down in the basement with the remaining two Chateau St. Georges...

So, how was our wine Saturday night you ask?  Was it skunky?  Had it turned to vinegar?  

No... thankfully it was perfect.  We errored in not opening it before dinner so by the end of the meal it was tasting really good... it's been so long since I had had anything not off the Trader Joe's shelf...

And the Pot Roast?  Well, it too was perfection and Hubby was Happy!  So now that you now what kind of wine to look for; here is a no fail Pot Roast recipe and a leftover recipe that will keep you and your family eating for days...

To be honest - I don't even know what kind of meat I get.  All I know is it's hormone & antibiotic free and free range from Trader Joe's... I want to say "round tip" but I am the worst with meat cuts... it looks like a GIANT steak...

I throw that baby in the crock pot with a ton of cut red potatoes, one or two onions quartered, a big bag of baby carrots (if it's not garden season) and a head of garlic.  I am embarrassed to say that I do cheat and use a packet of gravy mix too.  Cook for about 8 hours... by this time your garlic has practically melted and your meat will fall apart.  I scoup out some of the juice and make a gravy with flour to go with any of the sauces left in the crock pot - after all, you HAVE to have something to dip your bread into.  And speaking of bread, we had a baguette Saturday night.  I did not have time to make my new whole wheat that we are so into these days but the roast is really good with a salad and bread... the only thing we were missing was a gorgeous wedge of stinky blue for desert.   

Sigh.

And now for the leftovers...

For a delicious soup add a large can (read Costco size) of tomato sauce to the leftover pile of meat and potatoes, add some corn, green beans, Lima beans, maybe some extra carrots and a ton of barley and cook till the barley is soft.  (GF-eers you can leave out the barley no problem).  This soup is AWESOME and freezes very well.  We make many quarts of it at a time.

Both the pot roast method and vegetable soup recipe are family fav's from Gramma.  I don't think she has ever had a St.Émilion before though...

We may have to remedy that when she gets back from Florida.

Oh, I forgot the kicker.

When we did meet up with our friends in Perigeuex and told them of our adventure they said we could have knocked at the Chateau and we would probably have been invited in for dinner.  They did.

Bon Appetit.

Guess What I did Today...

 Aside from gain 400 pounds...

I think I officially can say, "I make macarons"  It's been a long week, lots of egg whites and almonds but I think I've got it!

Oh girls, these are as good as they look.  

Sinfully good. 

 (And Gluten Free for my GF family and friends!)

I feel like Juliette Binoche in Chocolat trying to sabotage your Lent! 

Wouldn't these be lovely as a gift for a friend instead of an Easter Basket?

Hmmmmmm....

Today in the Kitchen...

Butcher, Baker...

Macaron Maker!!!

If at first you don't succeed, try, try, try, try again.

I have read that these little babies take some mastering...they weren't kidding. 

  I now understand why they are over a dollar a piece in Paris... I finally found a recipe I really like but four batches later I worked out the kinks and would you believe had to change over four things that the recipe called and instructed for?  

The last few days have been spent "perfecting" the chocolate flavor and now I will move on to my other favorites: lemon, raspberry and pistachio ... then on to others; lavender, coffee, rose, Grand Marnier...

 This is NOT helping me lose the baby weight. 

 I want these little beauties to taste and look as close to Ladurée as possible!  That requires not only accessing their appearance ... lack of cracks in the surface, the shine, the lack of oil spots and of course their signature "pied" or  foot...that little crackly that looks like an addition layer ... but of course, eating them.

As soon as I can make them in my sleep they will be for sale in my Etsy shop, complete with pretty little boxes.

  After all, we should not have to fly to Paris to enjoy these exquisite little treats!!!

How exciting!

A Franco-American Breakfast

The Man of the Place has been working again and I find myself truly appreciating Saturdays. This morning, though much, much too early we awoke to find the earth covered in gray clouds and much needed rain.

Surely now the pole beans will produce!

But this morning my mind was not in my Potager. It was in Paris.

How I love Paris.

How I miss Paris.

Five years and counting but the smell of diesel still makes me swoon and a dreary rainy morning puts me right on the Boulevard Montparnasse, watching the resident cat and laying aside my ridiculous desire to charm that one cranky waiter who works under the awning at...

Le Select.

I love Paris when it drizzles.

Le Select is an old Hemingway haunt but never mind that. It's an old Parisienne Farmgirl haunt and on rainy, drizzly mornings it haunts both myself and The Man of the Place. We can almost feel the buttery croissants between our fingers and taste the best chocolat chaud on that side of town. None of those little wussy cups that leave us fat and sassy Americans longing for more. At Le Select you can order a private little pitcher of hot chocolate to sugar yourself silly. Avec Chantilly, mais bien sur.

This morning a little memory making was in order - Stateside. And I thought a Franco-American breakfast would do the trick. So, with every window in the house open to hear and enjoy the drizzly Parisian rain we enjoyed scrambled eggs and bacon (for the American in us) and sliced and toasted (longways of course) baguette with freshly homemade Lemon Curd and Confiture de Myrtilles. Blueberry Jam.

On Pandora we enjoyed Claire de Lune (Parisian type jazz not Debussy) and with a piping hot French Press the stage was set.

When visiting Paris many café's will advertise "American Breakfasts" but promise me you will never order one. Instead, head on over to Le Select and order a typical French breakfast of fresh croissant, baguettes, jams and café au lait or chocolate chaud. Bring your notepad and try to have a Hemingway moment or sit and enjoy some of the best people watching in town.

Pardon the photo quality - all my Paris photos are prints - pre-digital and I just can't bare to get out the scanner so I just take photographs of my photographs. Nerdy, I know.

Objetctif France

Lately my mind has been pondering France.  Wow, you say, what's new. 

 I'm usually not sitting around dreaming of people watching at a café all afternoon.  I am usually trying to figure out why I would love a culture so much when so much of what it believes is contrary to my own belief.  I often think of the small group of Evangelical Christians in France (about 15,000), I think about the HillSongs church in Paris wondering how it's doing, about the Church in Nice that I heard about on Moody last year.   I think about being a Missionary to France - I know that sounds weird but I have a hard time believing this love for France is something that I came up with on my own.  Surely God has his hand in it somewhere.  I think about how inept I would be at sharing Jesus with a culture so hardened to the word of God after years of "Enlightened Philosophy", let alone that once I am out of the present tense or "passé composé" I have to think three minutes before composing a sensical thought...

Anyways, all that to say that the spiritual state of France has been weighing on my heart in the last few days.  This morning I found some time for the internet (obvious with the post below) and I decided to click on  some of my own links way down on my sidebar.  "Top Chretian" being one of them.  Et Voila!  I found a movement gearing up right now in France and from what I could understand it is a prayer movement praying for the people and churches of France, for the identity and culture of France but most of all for repentance and revival in the country.  WOW.  I'm in.  They are asking for those around the world to intercede with them, there is even a prayer book and CD.  

I am so glad I found this, here is the link (au francais) so, if you call Jesus your Lord and if you call yourself a Fancophile will you join with me in praying for this beautiful, fascinating country and it's people?

Merci Liscette!

Merci Lisette!  J'ai changé les mots.

 (I'll write in English for most of my readers).  

I REALLY appreciate that you corrected my errors!  I rarely write in French, speaking is difficult enough!  Would you believe at first I wrote "Changeons le Sujet"? But then I looked at "sujet" and thought, "Well, that looks really strange."  Then, impulsively I added the "b"...and the "le visite" error - well, I should have known better given the "e" at the end of "visite."

Alors, teaching yourself a language is so difficult when you have no one to speak and write with.  My dear friend Céline used to live nearby but has since moved back to the Versailles area - she is always very good to correct me.  I dream of fluency and people like you will make that a possibility for me someday.

Merci a vous. 

Changeons le Sujet

Hopefully that is correct French for, "Let's Change the Subject"

Alors, A breath of Paris preserves the soul. 

While a fanciful statement, I need a B.O. break. How about a look at me experiementing with my new camera lens...et tous mes Tour Eiffels.

A vintage watercolor given to me by my beloved cousine Jennifer.  I can't imagine how she might have liked to keep if for herself.

An old earring from High School attached to my chandelier.

2000 Trip - yes, me with Madonna blonde/red hair.  Yikes.

2000 Trip.  Cluching Joel in sheer excitement.  My first moments in her presence.

My desktop collection in black and white.

Another grouping.  This one I got at "Epcot" in their mini "France"

My desktop collection in color.  Oui, some of those are antique pencil sharpeners.