Text 33607, 77 rader
Skriven 2015-11-25 03:12:38 av MICHAEL LOO (1:123/140)
Ärende: local stuff 550
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A trip to the Tours de Merle, my favorite spooky castle site
and within an hour of the house. These were built in the 
middle ages by [s]bandits[/s] minor nobility who wanted to
control commerce in the Maronne valley. They remained
inhabited and fought over until their final abandonment 
owing to the economic impracticality of maintaining them,
in the late 16th century. The castles were closed for the
season, not too disappointing as the visit requires
considerable walking (not great for Swisher), and anyway
I'd done it twice before. The commune, however, has built
a rest area from which you can take a five-minute stroll
to a great vantage point from across the valley. Swisher
was duly impressed, though more of my own attention was
devoted to the again wide variety of mushrooms that had
popped up after the recent rains. Here, with lots of
fallen trees from clearing off the rest area, there were
more bark and deadwood fungi.

We thought of visiting one of the dams (the Barrage de
Chastaing apparently has a temporary exhibition up about
the architecture and construction of the dams and their
impact on the local landscape), but it was getting on
to lunchtime, which we'd promised to have with I&J.

This consisted of local artisanal pork products that I'd
picked up, rillettes and fritons from Ferme Marty and those black 
puddings with chestnuts from the butcher at the Brive market.

The rillettes were a bit coarser than I'd expected, more
fatty pulled pork than rillettes, but then I like fatty pulled
pork. Fritons are along the same line but gamier, as they
include bits of the pig that normal people don't bother with,
in contrast to rillettes, which are all pork belly, or in some
places, shoulder.

Black puddings are not enhanced by chestnuts. I'd thought that
maybe the chestnuts were the filler, but it turns out that
they were in addition to the normal filler, which is I believe
breadcrumbs. The flavor was decent, but the texture was more
starchy than I'd like. Also, if I'd cooked them up, I'd have
rubbed the skins beforehand with Calvados to wash and tenderize 
them, but someone else had done the preparation.

Fava beans stewed in butter and seasoned with soy - I'd bought 
frozen ones as Swisher was pining for limas, and the ones at the 
supermarket were all frozen solid, whereas the favas were not. I 
read the package instruction, which said cook without thawing, so 
I figured the inner hulls had been miraculously taken off. I 
stewed the things in butter and added a splash of soy for interest. 
Well, it turned out the inner hulls had not been taken off. Ian
claimed that one needn't take the hulls off, you just cook them
until they're tender, and I said yuck. When I ate them, I popped
each bean out of its covering; the rest just chewed on the darn
things in I thought a most monastic manner.

Pays d'Oc rose de Syrah Les Petits Carreaux 12 had been a gift
from one of the gite clients who owned that vineyard. It was 
lighter and sweeter than the other rose had been (warmer and 
sunnier if you will) and went fine with the pork things.

-
Dinner was another light but by no means throwaway arrangement.

I&J made a truly luscious tarte de trompettes; they added a bit
of Gruyere, which made me scurry for my pills. In truth I'd have
used more cheese - I do like its flavor and its umami-building,
plus if I need to take a pill I want to get my money's worth.
As the cheese smooths things out and counteracts the vinocidal
tendencies of eggs, a Picpoul de Pinet Domaine de Creyssels 12
was a nice accompaniment, accenting the multiple fruitinesses
of the cheese and the mushrooms and cleaning the palate with a
dose of mild acid.

This was preceded by a salad with walnut oil and balsamic and
succeeded with the remnants of the maid of honour.
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