As we near the end of our Provencal summer, and as we joined in the festivities, I reflected that this time in the sun had been liberating in many other ways.
The French have a saying- Mangez bien, riez souvent, aimez beaucoup..- (Eat well, laugh often, love a lot)- and- whilst I don't often see the average French person slapping their sides and roaring with laughter very much, on the food side of things they do have a point . This blog has always been about making the most of what you've got, not wasting any precious food- but perhaps the quality of the food that I use has not been uppermost in my mind.
Eggs, for example.
An egg is an egg, is an egg, I always thought- but, since getting up close and personal with the hens here, and discovering the pleasure of cooking eggs that have been laid that day- from hens that happily scratch around and eat good things (they even have a fig tree in their hen coop so they can eat the fallen figs!), I've discovered that there is a lot more to eggs than I thought before.
Their yolks are so yellow and make a glorious quiche, their whites cook so beautifully that poached eggs come out of the poaching liquor nicely rounded like little igloos, I don't think I can go back to Value eggs. I'm going to have to source some good farm eggs from somewhere.
Evening falls on our Provencal summer- and tomorrow I'll pack for our return to Blighty. Want to see what I'm putting in my suitcase?
Shame I can't fit in the hens!