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Monday 30 April 2012

A hard lesson Hotdog.


Today I leave for Fraaance foa a monff to some gavverin', so it will be difficult foa mi to post any moa strories. But please check back in end of May foa moa.

Eddie had slept well in the bed provided. He had made a promising start but there was much more labour waiting for him as he dragged on his new boots then gathered his tools for the day's work ahead. After a light breakfast Roxanne presented the 'tasks for the day' list which Eddie stuffed in his jeans, leaving the kitchen, a little concerned at the matter of fact attitude of his employer: he had become the 'hired help', a common worker, someone to be ordered around, to be treated like any other. This did not feel at all pleasant.
To compound his doubts, arriving during the afternoon, was Candy, the last person he expected 450 kms north of Vallebregues. What could be the reason for this unexpected visit? Throughout the remainder of the day excuses were concocted to visit the house on the pretext of 'any further instructions, maam?' All that Eddie found was his latest tormentors huddled, chuckling over another bottle of Pinot Noir. By 7.30pm the tools had been cleaned, the boots were off, Eddie trudged back to the house for 'dinner'. Unfortunately he was met by the two ladies leaving for town, dressed to kill, barely acknowledging transparent Eddie.Returning to his rig firing up the chip pan he was faced with only Ollie for company. Sure enough he was awoken at 3 in the morning by the giddy, noisy homecoming of the treacherous hosts.
Eddie packed up the following morning finding it impossible to stay or request any explanation: he was heading south at 8.30am.He had been dealt a proppa shit butty.

Ikea hotdog.
Just up the road from Nuits Saint Georges is Dijon, the home of mustard but also a branch of IKEA. This dish reminded mi so much of wot Eddie had just been dealt. By the time that you have finished flowing through the yellow tracked river caves then paid for your wonderfully designed Scandinavian furniture just beyond the cash desks, the sign for 'fast food' approaches. 
On offer are the Swedish version of chicken nuggets and hotdogs plus a drinks of soda foa 50cents. The place is just bustin' wiv students arfta 12.30, each one carryin' at least too oa free of these delights. The ketchup, mustard, mayo are awl free. they don't arf dollop it awl ova. They continually return foa endless free drinks until they is bustin wiv 'E' numbers.
The 'dog' contains everfing that no one else would eat but it's slippery, elongated, lozenge shape wrapped in a very nasty bread roll fits perfectly into the mouth of any hungry, disernin' student. It could be a genuine shit butty: but after a shed full of ale from the night befoa it hits the spot; tis the ideal hangova cure. Believe me!!!

Friday 27 April 2012

Nuits St Georges salad




After toiling around the place for a few days Eddie decided to look up Roxanne at Nuits St Georges. Upon his arrival he explained his connection with Candy who had suggested that Eddie's skills could benefit her establishment: cutting grass, mending fence posts, hanging gates etc...certainly the chateau had been neglected since the sudden and premature death of her husband; a little rough around the edges. It wasn't long before our intrepid DIY 'man' was pulling on a pair of  boots that had been left by his predecessor after which the creaky wheelbarrow was loaded with various rakes, shovels and spades. A temperamental lawn mower sparked into action, after being given the 'kiss of life' and Eddie was fast making inroads into the 'upper' field. As the sun set definite  improvements could be seen; Eddie had put in a decent shift. All that was required was a reward for his labours, which came in the form of a slap up evening meal liberally washed down with excellent a 2005 Pinot Noir.
Roxanne had been effusive with her appreciation of Eddie's efforts. Within a few days the place would be knocked into some kind of shape but would the rewards match the effort? His first night had gone well, the conversation flowed over dinner, Eddie exchanged tales of his travels, his appreciation of the varied French countryside, his strict budget, along with his frugal diet had all been discussed openly and warmly. Substantial progress had been achieved.

Hot vine tomato an' asparagus salad
This recipee I nicked from mi mate Jamie, but he won't mind becawse he nicked it from mi uvva mate Gawden. It is particularly important to onli use the finest quality vegetables so don't use the shite that you buy in crap, cheap supermarkets. In a deep fryin' pan drizzle some virgin olive oil an' bring up the heat gentli. Gather an' trim the vegetables: a decent bunch of asparagus, too cloves of garlic, foa shallots, a good handful of fresh thyme and finally the vine ripened toms. Place awl the ingredienz in the pan together, season an' wilt daan until the toms start to burst releasin' awl their flavva. Usin' a proppa blenda finely cut arf a fresh green cabbage, six leaves of fresh mint one complete chilli, season then drizzle the lot wiv moa olive oil. Both dishes can be served separately oa combined. Finally, shred fresh parmigano ova the hot salad an' consume wiv crusty bread an' a lighter red, Cotes du Rhone villages is the absolute dog's wiv this suppa dish

Tuesday 24 April 2012

Eddie arrives in South Burgundy



Fast Eddie has decided to bail out of Les Bouches de Rhone and head norf wiv Ollie to the verdant agricutural landscape of South Burgundy. He has dipped out wiv Candy: it never really got off the ground, but has cemented relationships wiv Russia.
His trusty C15 has trundled norf at a constant 50mph towing behind him most of the frustratid french drivers who could not pass. During his journey he counted in excess of 50 waving french fists cursing the painfully slow English, 'petanque le merd and trou de cul' often heard as they streaked past.Nevertheless he arrived, all be it, two days late, carting 24 out of date lemon yogurts, some wilted celery and a huge sack of free onions. He planned to work at mi noo place foa a few days an' then head up to Nuits St Georges, hopefully graftin' on Candy's best mates vineyard. Her name is Roxanne; don't these Americans have the crapest names, in fact they inventid crap names back in the 50's wiv Rock, Burt, Charlton, Bing, Perry, Tyrone an' fackin' Clint.
Befoa his departure we had work to do locally: sort out mi vege patch, buy 12 chickins, one pig, too sheep an' borrow a cat from village stockpile to keep daan the rodents. Shelves needed puttin' up, a favrit foa Eddie, he just loves screewin' (couldn't resist), bangin' walls daan, stuffin rag wool in cavities, pumpin' out the well..etc..etc..In the evenin' I took him daan to mi favrit place. The bar on the campsite at Messeungne; cheap wine, good company an' boules. This is a proppa place, used by local farmers, city visitors from Le Creusot and Montceau les Mines, the place is awlways jumpin'. I have loads of tales about it which will have to wait foa annuva time: especially the one about Babette; now that's a proppa name, not a crap American name.
This is not a dish common to Burgundy but I knicked it from mi mate Gerard who's got a top restaurant in Chalon sur Soane cawled the 'Cathedrale' on Place St Vincent.

Caramelised duck breast with honey, lime and ginga sawse.
This is a really excellent twist on a traditional duck dish. The breast should be scored then cooked slowly, skin daan in a regular fryin pan foa 10 minits: pour off the fat an' turn foa a furtha 3 minits, remove from the pan. In a separate sawsepan add lemon zest and an 280 grams of shugga to arf a pint of simmerin' water. Meanwhile in the fryin pan, deglaze wiv arf a pint of good white wine (I use mi neighbours 'Champs de Perdris' chardoonay which is the dog's), then add the zest an' juice from one lime an' too tablespoonz of wild honey. When reduced sufficiently add the shugga syrup an' a good fum of gratid ginga. Befoa the sawse is poured ova the duck, peel an' skin annuva lime an' cut into segments an' drop in: make sure the pith an skin is removed, which can be a bawl ache so give that task to the missis becawse their smaall fingas are betta at those types of jobs.
Slice the duck breast then pour on the sticky, rich sawse. A simple accompaniment could be linguini oa noodles. Afterwards you could treat the missis wiv a few conjuguls.

Friday 20 April 2012

Farewell Tarascon Soop



Eddie had been so helpful ova the paast few monffs. He had packed an' re-packed the trailer wiv awl the stuff that was bein stored in the Blanchesserie an' the necessary gear that was required in the norf. His relationship wiv Candy had gone well sour; her takin' moa than givin'. The onli positive to come out of it was a connection in Nuits St Georges, another American lady who had recently inherited a vineyard from her recently diseased French husband, who could offer Eddie some work clearing gardins, cuttin' hedgerows alongwiv other 'handyman' tasks.He decided that would search out this 'lady' when he was'up that way' wiv a bit of luck she won't turn out to be feckless flake like her friend in Vallebregues. But in the meantime, the final passing ova of the house had to be completed.
The people that bought the property had buggered up their own transit schedule: an to cut a long story short, they finished up movin' in 3 days befoa the final 'contrat de vente'. They stayed upstairs in the apartment durin' this period; Eddie an' I remained downstairs to finish off the minor details. She was from Russia an' he was from Fraance, an odd eclectic mix. She claimed to an 'out of work' architect who moonlighted as a pole dancer in the evenin's, he was a gardiner foa the local Duke at Chateau Montrachez, Les Baux de Provence.Her mother, pure 100% Russian, took to wanderin' around the house, smilin' unannounced, clutchin' a stiff vodka, speakin', a cross between French an' English. she looked like she needed a good time, Eddie smelt a challenge. So much so, that on the second evenin' he disappeared foa a couple of hours cementin' 'Gasnost'. It takes awl sorts.
To celebrate this union I fink that we shall have a delicacy made famous from the Russian front.

Eastern Front Soop.
Find a rotten cabbage, free black spuds, too soft onions; chop oa tear them up an' place in a dirty pan wiv a tablespoon of horse fat. Add too pints of stagnant water an' stir. Bring to the boil; leave the room foa 10 minits becawse the stench is unbearable. Give the soop to someone you have a problem wiv.

Tuesday 17 April 2012

Candy of Vallebregues



After the sale of the 'unwanted' at the Sunday market I was virtually ready to transport myself and the 'precious' norf to saaf Burgundy. Eddie remained in the old house to mop up the remainin' sales of  the surplus furniture. Much of this would find it's way to the American lady, 'Candy of Vallebregues' who was desperate to supplement the sparse villa that she was rentin' as well as feebly negotiating her recent divorce from her 'selfish' French husband. She had been married for 12 years to a Burgundian wine buyer. Living in Dijon as the business grew she had become increasingly pissed off wiv the role of 'stay at home' housewife: so much so, as his life prospered, her's shrank.
Eddie, gratefully unloaded beds, tables, chairs and cupboards, at a very concessionary price; fixed up shelves, built and painted walls, awlso makin' sure that doors fitted properly. His meals count doubled, he spent less time in Tarascon more  in Vallebregues. Awl to no avail. Candy disappeared in the evening on a regular basis whilst Eddie babysat her two difficult children. She would return in the early hours wiv the simple explanation that she had been 'comforting an old friend': someone should write a song about that. For the first time, Eddie had misjudged a situation, misread the signals, he had been well and truly tuttled.
He had laboured on for the few weeks that I had been away, but I quickly realised that I had returned to a confused, dispirited Eddie. He needed cheering up.

Poires vapour aux Cidre.
This is traditionally a heavenly dessert dish from Normandy: they produce wonderfully sweet pears and their 'cider' is world famous, particularly the marque 'Escuisson'. Anyway, peel the pears, any sweet variety, leaving in the stawks. In a pan gentli simma arf a bottle of cider, arf a pint of water, 2 cloves, a stick of cinnamon, drop in the pears until they is tenda. Heat the oven to 180, cut the pears in arf an' place face daan on a bakin' tray. Sprinkle wiv braan shugga an' toast. They can be served wiv any sort of creme, light to fick, ice cream oa creme anglais, proppa custard oa even choclit sawse.
Eddie's humour had returned so much so that he felt that Candy should be immediately dipped in the 'celebrity shit bucket' along wiv 'Saint fackin' Bono', Sir Bob an' tree huggin' Sting. I agreed.

Friday 13 April 2012

Lula departs: Vallebregues Chickin Potage.



Lula had onli been in Tarascon for one day befoa she had to return to Horadada. Eddie took her to the railway station, made his farewells with the promise of keeping in touch: typically this did not happen; like many of Eddie's relationships they are founded upon sand., repetitively self inflicted disintegration.
At the time of his visit I was, coincidentally, selling up in the saaf, havin' had enuff of the incescent summer heat, the permanent filth in the town, the constant rotting dilapidation of the buildings, the noisy disfunctional neighbours but, more importantly, I had won a contract to write foa a noo magazine in the Dordogne, a very pretty English place. So, I was faced wiv gettin' shut of of loads of shite that I had accumulated ova the seven years that I had spent daan here.
Eddie and I decided to stand a local 'Vide Grenier' at Vallebregues to unload most of this unwanted gear. Expertly, the trailer was filled wiv everifin that you would find, but not buy, at 'poundstretchers UK'. Having laid out our pitch we were swamped by serial 'flea market' shoppers. The stuff was so cheap we had awlmost sold up by midday. Stuffin' 120 euros in mi pocket I was ready to leave when this handsome young woman strolled by to ask in perfect french "how much is the bicycle?" Eddie commenced wiv the barterin', but as soon as he began to launch his pitch she realised that he was not french but actually hailed from Garswood, Wigan: she then confessed to bein' American, livin' an' workin' in the village. Eddie sold and delivered the bike cheeply; wiv the prospect of further sales in the very near future.

Vallebregues Chickin' Potage avec Tarragon.
This is a fabulous dish usin' cheap cuts of chicken such as thighs an' wings: the cuts that have bones foa extra flavour an' fat! Gentli fry off 100grams of bacon lardons fume creatin' some gawgeous oily fat. Dice the onion, garlic, green haricots, fresh peas, carrot, celery, sweet corn, potato an' torn lettuce (yes, lettuce) then add to the pan. Season, after addin' one pint of good vege stock, simma. Skin daan seal the chickin portions, in a separate pan, until goldin' braan: combine the two pans. Finely cut free spring onions an' a laarge bunch of tarragon to dress the dish. Serve wiv crusty bread an' love. Believe mi this is a cast iron leg opener.