Of Pomegranates, Citrus Peel, and Time Enough
November's leaving and celebrations!
Camont: Late November
As all the natural noise in the world proclaims like clockwork, the end of November has arrived! November is thick with fog and private meanings of celebrations—of bounty, hoarding, and preserving, before the dark days arrive. I have a birthday now, and taking stock, inside and out, has always been a part of this week—all my life. Now at a ripe elder age, I am less prone to reflect on the past as I focus on the immediate and present at hand. Isn’t that a gift enough?
The Garden:
Camont settles into this tween season, an exceptionally warm and sunny November this year, not like pre-winter at all. Small French birds- little troglodytes flit through the seed-head garden, noshing on tiny insects, perching on a bare branch, doing a bit of winter housekeeping for me. I let the Swiss chard grow tough, and the minuscule Brussels sprouts nestle in the nooks of those fat leaves struggling against a late slugfest. I gather the last of the chilies off of a vigorous plant, a basket of unnamed green horns, some sort of cayenne, I think, to join the jars of vinegary guindillas from Spain and cornichons from the Summer garden in my condiment pantry. The fava beans planted last month are a foot high now and dark green, nourishing the winter beds, and preparing the soil for next summer’s tomatoes. And a blackbird has been pecking away at the pomegranates left to split on the trees; now that most of the little leaves have dropped, it looks more like the bird feeding station it becomes all winter.
The pomegranate remains a fruitful clock, its garnet seeds counting the months of winter ahead, the decline of Demeter’s sad emotional state—an early documented Seasonal Afflicted Disorder. While I, a late November baby, revel in the colorful trees, the Thanksgiving feasts, the last-minute birthday cheer, I see it all as a sort of kick-off for the holiday season ahead and an extension of my arrival on earth. There are still some chores to do before the cold sets in, and those wetter days keep me inside by the fire. The leaves have been slow to drop this year, so I sweep the front doors clear of slippery and wait to rake the gravel. I’ll pile the leaves directly onto the garden beds and let them mulch and compost in place.
The Relais de Camont:
This week, together with Ruth Ribeaucourt of Faire magazine, we launched the first Creative Fellowship with a private 90-minute chat with Inner Circle members and you, my Supporting Subscribers. Although I couldn’t see who was attending the webinar, I could feel the love and curiosity through the moderated questions as I talked about “Transitions and Coming of Age…at 70.” I am delighted to be a part of this active and special group of creatives and look forward to welcoming the selected artist for a special two-week Faire X Relais de Camont Creative Fellowship in 2023. The application through Faire Inner Circle is open through December 2, so if you ever thought of what it might be like to give yourself two whole weeks to create, in a most quiet place to work, then read about it here: Faire Press.
The inside chores are less pressing as I stretch a picture hanging project over several days, enjoying the handling of new and old paintings like old friends. The painted mantle piece in the pigeonnier has waited for a burst of energy to finish; I'll light the fire in the kitchen stove to keep the damp tile floor dry, warm the walls, and return to painting the little frieze that tells the story of the Relais de Camont. There are thick winter curtains to hang to keep the night chill at bay and new lighting to arrange in the sitting room as I continue to try and get it just right. All small comforts are essential as I ready the pigeonnier to welcome holidaymakers and next year’s creative residents.
If you would like to celebrate the Holidays at the Relais de Camont this year, I am taking reservations for two special long weekends in which to play in the kitchen and garden, take a long walk by the canal, and toast your toes near the little wood stove. Dec 22-27 and Dec 29- Jan 3 are available for up to 4 guests, direct booking through me. Message if interested.
On Cooking:
Today, I potter in my French kitchen alone, finishing, after many days, a large batch of candied citrus peel. Grapefruit, orange, lemon, and lime peel rested in the freezer until I had enough time to cook it all; they take the sugar syrup cooking differently, absorbing it slowly as they turn into translucent sugary shards to air dry before packing into jars for Christmas treats. I snitch one every time I pass the drying racks, and the sweet, bitter shock of zest awakes a holiday recipe in me. I’ve put the excess syrup, now pale orange and infused with bright and bitter zest, in a jar and plan a Winter Champagne Cocktail with the remains of a bottle of clementine eau de vie from Corsica that I have hoarded since last winter. Small treasures are more than enough this year. You can see the process here on Instagram Stories.
The Recipe: Candied Citrus Peel
Gather and freeze or use fresh as many citrus peels as you have: orange, lemon, limes and grapefruit.
Place peels in a pan, cover with water, and bring to a boil—cook for 30 minutes.
Strain the water/juice off and reserve.
remove all excess pulp and pith from the colored peel, press and strain into the cooking liquid and discard the pulp.
Measure the liquid and add an equal amount of sugar to make a simple syrup: 50% sugar/50% liquid
Return to the pan, bring to a boil until the sugar is dissolved, add the cooked citrus peel and simmer for 30-45 minutes, until the peels are translucent.
Let cool in the syrup, then strain and arrange on drying racks or parchment on baking sheets. Let dry overnight, or in a convection oven with fan and light on until just tacky. I left mine overnight in the oven and then the next day just to air dry.
Sprinkle heavily with sugar and continue to dry until easy to handle.
Pack in clean jars or plastic bags.
Cut into strips or dice as needed for recipes: fruitcake, panforte, mediants, etc.
The Year Ahead: Grow
As I mentioned in my last missive, I have been doing an accounting of my time and work, counting pomegranate seeds if your will, and wish to continue to write and build The Camont Journals into a well-paid subscriber-supported publication. A monthly book if you will, delivered in manageable chunks, archived on the Substack App.
Just one thing is needed— Paying Supporters. As I take the time to write (and research, cook, and share) Finding France on the Camont Journals, please share this with your friends and colleagues, your favorite Francophiles and cooks. Consider what a lovely little stocking stuffer this would make every week as a gift. In order to continue on a positive trajectory, I need to double my paid subscribers by the end of the year. Is that even possible? I do believe it!
If you haven’t already done so, just hit this button and pay for a month of French Love from the Gascon countryside, and count the gentle hours with me both in and out of the kitchen, the potager, and the village markets of Gascony. Help me find your own France, no matter where you live…
Merci!
Kate Hill
I look forward to reading each post! Merci beaucoup for the time and energy you put into this. Lori
I heartily agree with Lori! It is such a pleasure to read your newsletters! Thank you for putting your heart and soul into them! You are an inspiration! I always look forward to them! Keep up the good work! Blessings!