The French Chef

Thursday, September 3, 2009









I take my walk to Monce. Only a few butterflies, thistle bursting with down, cornstalks turning yellow, straw bales out of the fields and into barns.

School started here today. The local bus service has added additional runs to LeMans. Most of the children go to school there now.

Our time here is growing short. Back at Le Verger, I call Michael Cresswell and Tracey. He's the young man who spent the last few months in Nashville recording an album that's to be released in Europe in the fall. We've been meaning to get together with them, so we'd better try to make arrangements now.

Alas, Michael and Tracey are leaving today on a trip to promote Michael's CD. We're sorry for that. They both have a great sense of humor, and they're interesting and smart. Good company.

Tonight we're trying Sauce Normande. I bought pork cutlets (though they won't be an adequate substitute for the wonderful sausage we had in the fabulous appetizer). We're filling out the menu with green beans (known as haricots verts in this neck of the woods) and salad (made from the contents in our garden), a baguette and butter and the last of the blackberry pie.

Chef Bernard is at the stove, hovering solicitously over a saucepan, a container of cream and a bottle of Calvados nearby. Onions and the Calvados transform a white sauce into a delicious, subtle yet robust sauce that's a perfect accompaniment to pork.

Dinner is perfect. I could go on eating this way for a long time. I'm so glad our arrangements allow us to eat out when we like, but still cook at home.