Canal-Side Soundtrack

Setting your inside seasonal French clock, greens, & giving

Mar 23, 2022

It’s all about the nuts and bolts of an old French house this week. There is a plumber, a damp wall expert, a wallpaper-er, and a gardener all showing up at the same time. It must be the change of season, the end of winter, the full moon, and all the rest of French country life ganging upon us.

The little French Songbirds are making their nests at full volume in the canal-side trees. I jokingly shouted “Be quiet, you lot!” and they did- for a few minutes, and then the cacophony of territorial song started up again. All manner of little birds sing, I don’t know their names, and they start just after 6:00 am these days; it is barely light, and before a breath of wind ruffles the still nude Poplar trees.

With this natural soundtrack creating a “Song of Camont”, I am tempted to post a “No Music” sign in the kitchen. I prefer to listen to the wind as it starts to roll in like waves at the shore. A distant dog barking sets off Chica and she reaches a feverish pitch until I calm her down with a biscuit or two. A tractor rumbles in the apple orchards across the canal and stops just when it is time to eat lunch. You don’t need a watch to tell time in the countryside. Just listen.

It all sounds so bucolic, doesn’t it? Well, it is mostly except that M. Lafontanie the plumber is drilling through a foot of cement looking for a leaking hose and I am tapping away at these words to his rhythm trying to place some sense of order into a long memory of cooking here in Gascony while washing yesterday’s dishes.

On wild greens and wars

I am thinking of how the first spring days when I came to Camont were dominated by overgrown nettles and brambles. And how later those nettles became a salute to the early season in green soups and egg-rich pasta lunches. Now, these prickly nettles will always remind me of what happened this Spring in Ukraine.

I refer to making the terrific Green Borscht with nettles, sorrel, and other green shoots from Olia Hercules’ love song to “Summer Kitchens: Recipes and Reminiscences from Every Corner of Ukraine” as my colleagues and friends created a well-documented movement to #cookforukraine. I mentioned it a couple of letters ago, when the war was young, just 16 days ago, and we were all in early shock. Then you, generous souls, helped me raise over 2000€ for World Central Kitchens as volunteers continue to cook for so many women, children, and the elderly crossing borders and sheltering in fragile spaces. They leave their beloved world behind. They are still in need.

Soon the nettles will take over the village gardens of those who fled and can’t return—so many millions of families leaving homes. Perhaps the nettles will be the only greens in those once well-tended patches. But lives, too, just as gardens are now disrupted. Please don’t turn off and ignore it now; stay tuned in and fight the good fight for their (and our own) freedoms. Later this week, I’ll meet my new Ukrainian neighbors— Oksana, her mother Lyuda, and her daughter 10-year-old Nika who come to Tamsin’s Little French Retreat to live for a while here in a quiet French village as their uprooted lives get sorted out. We continue to help as we can, locally and globally. It’s not an either-or choice. The wild greens growing through my garden will help nourish them as well.

So while my untidy potager gets sorted out now with the help of Allison, an expert gardening neighbor, I am amazed at how this new Team Camont is coming together. Together we drew a rough map of the raised beds and dedicated an entire square to a rhubarb plot, a triangle for artichokes and peas, another square destined for tomatoes and tomatillos, chilis, and peppers. It’s early days still, but it’s good to be starting before the April rains sog the heavy clay soil and dampen our enthusiasm. I am but a casual gardener these days; everything sprouts well here in this fertile river bed soil. Now with a more expert cohort to plot and weed, I can see the meals to be plucked and shared as the season warms up at Camont.

In the Kitchen: A Quick Green Omelette

So what am I cooking now? Truthfully? Entire meals can come and go with no vegetables but frozen spinach! I have resorted to small pots of paté from the pantry, a sweet potato, and a few slices of cured meat for a meal. I make porridge for lunch (well, elevenses) and I am trying to trick myself into cooking just enough that there are no leftovers. I bake a cake and eat most of it for breakfast all week. Thankfully, soon there will be too many people around and all this will change. But I am saved by eggs and greens. I taught this little Omelette aux Herbes last year in one of my videos.

A simple fresh and green ‘recipe’ that keeps me honest in my own kitchen, is to gather a few fresh leaves- the first tender leafed herbs and greens like tarragon, parsley, roquette/arugula, chives, etc. and arrange them on a plate. Then sprinkle over with a few drops of oil, vinegar, and salt—a small dressed bed of greens. Next, make a quick two-egg omelet (with just salt and pepper), and when just done enough to fold, slip from the pan onto the waiting greens. The heat of the omelet will barely wilt the greens and release their fragrance as you eat. Add a slice of toasted pain de campagne, a glass of your favorite wine- eh, voila! this simple lunch or supper is a lifesaver.

What’s Next at Camont

The gentle pace of winter draws to a close. The first Creative Residents begin to show up at the end of April—writers, photographers, and cooks— as we launch the first Creative Residencies at Camont. Perhaps I’ll look longingly back on these solitary Covid days and wait for my own creative energy to settle. For now the excitement of ‘what is to come’ has taken over from the ‘what has been holding us back.’ Applications for 2022 are now open.

As Camont welcomes writers and photographers, especially those working in the Food Arts, I imagine my own writing time will grow and fill the quiet spaces. This last year of writing here, on what is now called ‘The Camont Journals’, has been a great exercise in stretching my word muscles. Finding France, like the title of my next book, has been a long 30-year journey rather than A Year of Being French. I have so appreciated your responses—little hearts and comments, subscription support and sharing. As I now enter the book proposal phase of Finding France, I ask you to continue your support and sign up for or renew a paid subscription. Each minute I write is thanks to you!

Remember, it’s okay to be a little lazy just now in these quiet moments because life is rolling forward at full bore heading straight toward us. Take a breath and listen for those first early birds. I keep teaching and working and writing it all down. Listen!

Nuts & Bolts

Online Courses: Les Weekends at Camont

Need a cake break yourself? Join me for a sweet group hug— More info here.

I’ll be teaching a Weekend Workshop April 1-3 about all the sweet things in these French farmhouse kitchens- Le Weekend Workshop #4. And then in April and May, I am teaching the last in-person workshops—Camp Charcuterie and Classic Gascon Cooking. There is room for one or two people in each week if interested; please contact me immediately.

Books & More Reading

Remember there are books to share that we love. And I have been rejoicing in the renewed appreciation for Sarah Winman’s Still Life as it climbs onto the charts in a new release. Art, history, loves, Italy, globes, parrots— what not to love?

Did someone ask me for a favorite cookbook? Oh, so many, but I turn, time and time again to Pierre Koffman’s Memories of Gascony. I like the original older copy I have but I recently downloaded a digital copy so I could more easily look up my favorites when referring to them online.

My own books are all available online, in new and old editions, digital and print on demand. Check out my author’s page on Amazon here.

More pictures of Camont as she wears her Spring Glory? Follow my Instagram account!

The Camont Journals with Kate Hill

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