IT will soon be truffle-hunting season in the woods and forests of France, when people will be searching for the little ‘black diamonds’.
The Périgord region of southwest France is regarded as home to some of the finest specimens, but Provence and northern Italy are also known for the rare delicacy.
IT was the first mild day of spring after the long cold spell, when we drove round the lane, up to the Trappist community of nuns, Notre Dame de Bonne Espérance (Our Lady of Good Hope), writes Gemma Driver.
The sun was shining, the sky bright blue, and the impressive buildings of the Abbey shone white.
ONE of the best ways to get a taste of real French life is to spend an evening in a small restaurant.
You can’t beat trying out something new and different alongside a glass or two of wine, but some people may feel a little uncomfortable about visiting a place.
AH, yes. I’m always thrilled if I mention The Mushroom Poisoning to a local, and they respond by saying “I heard”. There’s usually a touch of irony playing about their eyes, writes Gemma Driver.
MANY French people are getting a taste for HP Sauce, poppadoms and even Cadbury’s Creme Eggs.
THERE’S nothing like a bottle of champagne to add a bit of sparkle to an occasion, but which variety to pick and how much to pay can be a real problem.
So here is a look at choosing good champagne from Jon Catt, who holds a French Regional Guides qualification for the Champagne Ardennes region. He writes…
ONE of the best things about a life in France is the range of fresh produce on offer.
But being faced with an array of strange names and descriptions for everything from fish to lettuce can be a real challenge.
AS the church clock struck four in the afternoon the market opened for the sale of the day’s cèpe mushrooms.
The large, bun-like cèpes were all neatly stacked in wooden crates with official tickets detailing their weight and the sellers attentively stood by.
LIBOS market takes over the streets and alleyways of the town keeping the spirit of the French market alive.
BREAD has an almost mythical status in France so a chance to go out on the daily delivery run could not be missed.
Marie Ange Brouqui was to be my guide and as we loaded up the van, with the still warm loaves, she also checked over her route.
It was to take in the surrounding villages, schools and farms with a longer stop at Villefranche du Périgord.
“The bread is different compared to regular bread as it keeps fresh for longer,” Marie Ange explained.
“This comes about from the baking process so it means that many of the homes will buy a loaf every couple of days.”
As we hit the road you could hear the bread crusts crackling as they slowly cooled in the back of the van.
But it also means that inside the van it is warm, useful in the winter but a problem during the long hot summers.
Soon we disappeared up a single-track lane into the woods and discovered a small cottage or group of farm buildings.
And with a beep of the horn someone would pop out of the house and pay a couple of Euro for a large loaf, which measures about 18 inches.
“Many of the people we deliver to have been buying bread off us for years so they know they are going to get good quality,” Marie Ange said.
“But times are changing and younger people especially, don’t buy their bread from the boulanger they just visit the supermarket every week.”
Driving down a tight narrow track we would come across a collection of tumble down buildings, with smooth stone archways and a crumbling stairway to a wooden door.
Or the valley floor would open up and a large farm often producing foie gras would come into view.
“I used to be a post woman which comes in very useful for remembering which lane leads where,” Marie Ange said.
“And often on the drive you will see a beautiful view or catch the sun in the leaves, it really is very calming.”
By mid-morning the van had been loaded up again and it was off to Villefranche du Périgord.
Here we stopped in the market square and attracted a bit of a crowd as they bought up their bread straight from the back of the van.
We would also shoot up and down the four main roads in the village beeping the horn, or tapping on the window, as people came out.
“I sometimes think I should stand in the middle of the square and whistle to attract everyone to the van,” said Marie Ange.
“And you always get one or two who think they are the boulanger and ask how the bread was made, is it fresh, what does it taste like?”
By lunchtime the deliveries are made and the ritual of the bread begins again in the boulangerie ovens – but that is another story.