Weather Report: If the Sun shines, get outside now!
It’s super frosty this morning, but the French sun spills across the parc, pouring through scrappy branches of overgrown Leylandii; I want to cut all of these ubiquitous hedges down on these late winter/early spring mornings. I might do that this year as a way to recover the warmth of an early rising sun, now popping up at just after 8:00 am. They reach 20 feet or more into the blue sky and keep what was once a thriving orchard in shade- the Lost Orchard. Now that I have a willing crew who will supervise, we just need some helpers to chip the branches into mulch. Winter work parties are harder to organize than tricking Summer guests in the time-honored Tom Sawyer fashion that I have perfected. But for those not afraid to get bundled up and spend some hours in the chill but clear air, it’s an invigorating practice and so rewarding as new shoots sprout overnight when touched by a bit of sun.
Elsewhere in the parc, the 30-year-old oaks are now completely bare. These Common Oak trees, Quercus robur, have grown over my entire life here at Camont. Once a few small saplings that were squirrel planted in the overgrown apple orchard, they now spread strong branches linking a few acacias together to form a large shady haven where the potager once thrived. They say it is this tree that links the earth to the heavens and opens the doors to the invisible world. I never knew I would stay put long enough to see them in their winter glory. They harbor many birds and pairs of red squirrels and are perfectly spaced for a community of hammocks.
Now, entering my fourth decade here at Camont, I am spending more time and money on cutting, pruning, clearing, and chopping than I am on planting. It seems a surprise battle that small saplings have grown into top-heavy oaks that paper the parc with their dry and brittle leaves. The grass has disappeared mostly, composting into a changing woodland, and I am happy to experience this change. Gardening is a great metaphor for life, and I, too, am pruning, clearing out, and culling things that have long occupied me and digging in new energy to renew the fertile earth and my mind.
Creatively, they moves through a French landscape at The Relais de Camont.
Wow, just Wow. That’s what I wrote to one of the many new applicants for the 2023 Creative Residency season arriving every day in the post… the e-post. I am delighted at the natural diversity of artists, hometowns, disciplines, and projects that are tumbling through my fingertips. Since this is just the second season and the first true effort to put the intimate Relais de Camont on the artist residency map, I am pleased by how quickly word in this new-to-me community has spread.
I am curious where these resident contacts will intersect and how the 3 or 4 residents here every two weeks will cross-pollinate, mentor, merge, inspire, and introduce their work to each other. Some dates are still available for 2-4 week self-funded residencies scattered across the 2023 Spring, Summer, and Fall season calendar. If you have ever thought about taking that time to give yourself a gift of creative time, then write me. If you know anyone who might benefit from this productive and quiet environment, then pass the information on. Please.
Meet Lydia Gilroy and Natasha Marshall, two of the creatives who will be coming this year to the Relais. If you followed along last Fall on Instagram, Faire Magazine Editor-in-Chief Ruth Ribeaucourt and I launched a collaborative Creative Fellowship—Faire X Relais de Camont. Thanks to the organizational efforts of Ruth and her own creative team at Faire, a stellar group of professionals helped choose from a wide field of applicants, and not one but two artists will each spend two weeks at Camont sometime this year.
While food and hospitality have been the raison d’etre for three decades at Camont, how exciting to see a new world, a true sea change, not only in use of the meandering cozy spaces of the Pigeonnier but in the energy born out of this new focus on creative activity. Both house and garden conspire to be part of an expanding fluid workspace- from the comfortable bedroom/studio spaces, where writers will write, to the orchard studio, la Cabane-- an off-grid sleeping space with room for painting and mixed media.
Perhaps someone will harvest the plants from a new medicinal herbal garden I am plotting now for natural dyes. Or a line of sun-dried linen sheets will inspire a scrim for an al fresco theatre piece. A shaded table and chairs under those oak trees and near the chicken yard could be the setting for an illustrator to work on a long scroll spilling onto the wild mint that scents that particular part of the garden. Video, Photography, Music, and, of course, for Food Artists, the kitchen library is full of inspiration for those wishing to dive into French country cooking.
I imagine that this new community of creatives will hunt and peck at Camont and then go lay their golden eggs across a global nest. As part of my own creative process, I’ll be posting portraits and portfolios of visiting artists and sharing them with you all here, as what better place to spread good news? And I will continue to write.
February Food— Ducks Ahoy!
First, for those of you who are generously paying/supporting subscribers, I am attaching the next volume as a PDF in A Gascon Year- Février below. You’ll see it is a very duck-centric issue as this is the time of year when, traditionally, I would make confit and jar and process it for later use throughout the year. There is no shortage of recipes on how to confit, roast, and braise a French duck. And there are a few duck egg recipes for a traditional pound cake—a quatre-quarts and a duck fat shortbread cookie—both work well with hen eggs.
I think of all my favorite dishes, the Parmentier de Canard—a type of cottage/shepherd’s pie made with a couple of legs of confit is one of my winter favorites. A rich, satisfying potato purée is spooned over a mushroom/shallot/ duck filling. Steaming hot and golden crested peaks on the top, it makes a great family meal or when friends gather for lunch like we are doing more often.
By the way, did you make Crêpes for Chandeleur? It’s not too late, and the recipe is available for everyone here. What about whipping them up for Valentine’s Day? Or even Mardi Gras? The real day to celebrate in February is any day when the sun shines, and you can get outside.
French Moments…
Yesterday a friend and I went to one of the many old Roman Spa towns nearby— Casteljaloux and ‘took the waters” in a lazy post-lunch soak, bubble, steam, and swim. The large modern complex, les Thermes de Casteljaloux, had been completely refurbished and sparkled. We kicked ourselves all the way home that we hadn’t done this sooner once everything had reopened after Covid lockdowns. Remarking how the chic French women of a certain age kept their sunglasses on when in the outside part of the pool (and never got their hair wet!) Maurine and I promised to honor the new four-day-a-week work schedule and take Fridays off to discover ALL the thermal spas within shooting distance of our homes. Interested? Keep posted, and I’ll do a little update as we discover them over the next few months.
For Paying Subscribers, download the A Gascon Year- Février below. And thank you all for your generous comments and for answering last time’s little Poll. It was very helpful and nice to hear from you. Not a supporting subscriber? You can still buy the volume online as an ebook or order a print-on-demand paperback here. Until next time….
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