The French Retreat part four. Chanterelles and Goat’s Cheese on Toast and why we should not trust the French.

I’m as forgiving a man as the next guy. In fact, as I look at him from here, I suspect that I am even more inclined to let bygones be bygones. Still, there are some things that we really can’t put to one side. When any Irishman thinks of our relations with our Gallic cousins, thoughts go to the Theirry Henry incident in the ill-fated World Cup qualifier played in 2009. Many Irishmen of a certain age still go red in the neck and pontificate about this outrage. I don’t. The past is a different country and I don’t live there. What really brings me out in spots is their pretending to join the European Union. Yes, they gave the appearance of joining and all of a sudden, we had Petit Filous to feed our kids and Bon Maman jam appeared on the supermarket shelves. However, they really have kept back on the union thing. We willingly gave away most of our fish to our partners while they supposedly gave us agricultural equality. But, they haven’t. They are keeping all the good stuff for themselves. 

“Ou est l’evidence?” I hear you say. “Sur le marché.” is my reply. Yes, they hold back all the good, French, food produce and sell it to themselves in local markets. They start these early and end them early so tourists will not get to enjoy the fruits of their deception. While the average tourist is struggling out of bed in France, the wily French will be closing up shop and going on a three-hour lunch break. Yet, today, I bring you photographic evidence. Having risen before I went to bed, and wearing a beret, a stripy jumper and pushing a bicycle festooned with onions, I moved freely amongst them, taking clandestine photographs for this exposé (yes, a French word). My investigation focussed on local markets in St. Foy La Grande, Bergerac and Libourne. All substantial towns in the agricultural South West of France.

“Why can I never get a doughnut peach when I want one?” Because they keep them all!

The soft fruits are amazingly fresh and tasty. The one big problem with transporting them is they are so very delicate. Or so they say…

Apricots anyone?

As I arrived at the market in Bergerac, I thought that dark forces were conspiring against me.

The market in Bergerac surrounds the Notre Dame church. Ominous weather greeted my arrival.

Had I looked like a tourist, they would have moved the entire affair inside and pretended it was not happening.

Not the sort of grapefruit available anywhere near me…

I found damming evidence of their lack of commitment to EU standards. Despite forcing the straight cucumber on the rest of us, they keep all the nice bendy ones for themselves.

When is the last time you saw a curved cucumber. That’s how they grow them for themselves in France!

Chanterelles were a high point of the Bergerac market, available on many stalls.

Chanterelles available to locals. Not for export to other EU members.

The range and quality of produce was staggering.

Yellow carrots? “Oui monsuir, do you not ‘ave them in Irelande?”

They changed my understanding of vegetable colours.

Aubergine anyone? “Oui. De quelle couleur voulez-vous, monsieur?”

Perhaps a little honey to sweeten any market deal?

How many kinds of honey do they need. Release some for the rest of us!

Tomatoes? But of course. What colour would you like?

All this food photography got me hungry. We repaired to our gite and organised an early (very early as I had to get up in the middle of the night) lunch of Chanterelles and Goat’s Cheese on Toast using only local French ingredients.

A quick shot of the few ingredients needed.

The mushrooms were the real deal. I had to dust brush them to remove the bits of the forrest floor still remaining after picking.

Dusted Chanterelles waiting to go into the pan.

Despite the bread being still warm from the boulanger, we decided to toast it.

The freshest of fresh bread. I suppose they can defend not exporting it this fresh.

We fried the mushrooms in some French olive oil.

Fried in bio-dynamic French olive oil (available in every supermarket over there).

We added some very fresh goat’s cheese to the proceedings.

Delicious, fresh and very inexpensive goat’s cheese was available in every market we visited.

‘L’ensemble’ was pretty straightforward (unlike their naturally curled cucumbers).

I hate to waste any of that beautiful olive oil.

This was the best lunch of the holiday. Simple, natural ingredients, slyly wrestled from the grasp of the selfish French. “Mon Dieu!” I hear you exclaim. But, what can we do? They are up too early for us and have gone home for a long tasty lunch before we can say “Ce n’est pas juste.”