I don’t think I’ve seen this in Malvern Village, Adelaide.
The owner was such a lovely man and so proud when I asked if I could photograph his dog.
But that pooch, the snarl scared the crap out of me.
I woke up early this morning and was greeted by this.
How could I go back to bed with that.
I put the coffee machine on, bread in the toaster and had a wander outside.
As the sun rose and the sky brightened, you could see it would be a glorious morning – perfect for a morning walk. So after dropping Lilas off at school, Anne-Laure and I (where are you Mathilde!) set out on an old abandoned road, leading out of the village. I love these morning walks. With a dodgy back and all sorts of creaky things going on, I’m meant to keep up a minimum of exercise. Geez, I should be doing so much more, but I’ve never been sporty – so these ‘promenades’ are my small contribution to keeping me on my feet. We generally head out of the village without any idea of direction and just keep going as far as the route will take us. Sometimes it’s 40 minutes, sometimes you get lost and the route back takes a bit extra.
Feet stumbling in the rocks, you see beautiful centuries-old dry stone walls, remnants of old barns, local folk walking their dogs, vineyard workers, brand new views of the village from afar and wave after wave of vineyards. It is so good out here, I get completely addicted to it. Every morning has its beauty and I suck it all in and try and store it in some part of my head for the rest of the day. This time is a luxury and I am thankful to have it.
This particular morning Anne-Laure directed me along a road she knows well, with a special treat at the end of it.
This perfect, secret garden. A wonderful surprise ‘au bout’of the long lane.
We stood admiring it from outside its fence and then realised that its ‘proprietaire’ was inside, also standing and staring – at us.
He insisted we come in and visit.
It was the most beautiful vision of green – carefully tended boxes with row after row of salads, herbs, tomatoes, leeks, silver beet, gigantic-leafed plants to keep away the moles… He was happy to have us here and share his private space. The monsieur said he’d started growing his ‘potager’ around twenty years earlier and came everyday to work it. I asked him if with all this amazing produce he cooked – and he laughed heartily (with a cigarette dangling off his lip) and replied no, that it was to keep him busy after retiring and that, as he lived alone, he gave most of his vegetables away. We thanked him for his time and were handed a bunch of herbs. He then followed us out, locking the gate behind him and said it was time for his cafe. A great way to greet the morning.
(* this dish is a version of the one listed in the fabulous “French Farmhouse Cookbook” by Susan Herrmann Loomis)

Nothing like keeping the monsieur happy – and at this time more than any other. Harvest time means good, honest, country cooking and this very simple (the best kind!) lentil dish is a winner in our house. It’s easy and so versatile – it’s great on its own or delicious paired with country sausages, pork chops, lamb chops, whatever you feel like. They say that dried pulses were a staple in many homes during the harsh Winter months, a time when people also consumed more preserved, salted meats (no wonder I feel like large slabs of juicy ‘petit sale’ with my lentils).

And it’s another one of those dishes that tastes better and better each day it gets older!
I first tried this dish here in France at Benji’s parents’ house. A large cast-iron pot was plonked in the middle of the table and we helped ourselves to this comfort-food’ – the country sausages (mmn, like a bit of country saucisse, but not these!!) swimming in a dark brown-green mass of steaming lentils, with dollops of Dijon mustard, soaking it all up with crusty bread and wine.
I’m wondering if it was the first time I’d had ‘Puy’ lentils? These are a dark green/grey coloured lentil commonly found in ‘Le Puy’, in the Auvergne area of France. Grown in volcanic soil, they are very small and lovely to cook with as they retain their form. Until that time, all the lentil dishes I’d tried were mostly Indian influenced, eg dhal, using red or brown lentils. Come to think of it, I used to eat a lot more ‘Asian’-influenced dishes in Australia. Coriander, soy sauce, chillies and limes were far more common sights in the kitchen than wild thyme, bay leaves and olive oil. Who would have thought…
ingredients:
500g green Puy lentils (this will serve about 6 people)
2 onions, diced
4 carrots, chopped
250g salted pork, cut into chunks (optional)
3 cloves garlic, finely chopped
1 sprig fresh thyme
bay leaf
country sausages/ frankfurters (1-2 per person) – (optional)
parsley and mustard for serving
pepper to taste (if you are using the salted pork you will not need to add any salt)
method:
Fry your onion until golden in a generous amount of olive oil, in a heavy casserole pot
+ During this time, boil a full kettle of water for pouring over the lentils later – the hot water greatly reduces the cooking time +
Add the roughly cut chunks of salted pork and fry for a few minutes, stirring frequently
Add the carrots and the garlic, give a good stir
Now add the lentils, stir well

Pour boiling water to cover well.
N.B. During the cooking, you will find that the lentils soak up a lot of water, you may need to add a second pot of boiling water over the mixture if you have no liquid left. I know, it may look like you are drowning the lentils with water, but believe me it does dry up!

Add herbs and pepper to taste.
N.B. You do not need to add salt if using the salted pork (I’ve made that mistake!) – but if you’re not using meat DO NOT salt at this point. – adding salt to lentils during cooking may toughen them up. Add it after the cooking.
Cover with lid and let simmer for one hour (if you have too much liquid, leave the lid slightly ajar) – or until lentils are tender.
Voila! – and enjoy with a light red or a dry white…
“1. a bundle or parcel. 2. that in which anything is packed, as a case, crate, etc. 5. to put into wrappings or a container.” – ‘Package, packaging’ from the Macquarie Dictionary, 2nd Edition, 1981
Do you remember when I let it slip that I have a thing for packaging? Mmn, yep, still have it and lately I feel like I’m being bombarded with even more wonderful examples of it, everywhere. At home, at the markets, at the vide-greniers (the village garage sales – something I must absolutely tell you about soon), at friends’ houses, in the guise of gifts from friends… everywhere.
Colours, texts, fonts, old, new, shabby or shiny… I can’t get enough of it – and if there’s a text or a word here or there in French, even better! It’s amazing how much you can improve your vocabulary just reading the fine print! (and probably a lot more educational than my dippings into, shock, horror – Voici).
At the moment I’m getting a buzz out of OLD packaging and the eg’s here are from either home (my mother-in-law is a great help here) – or from stands in the markets and vide-greniers. I understand why people start up businesses selling this stuff – there are crazy people out there, like me, who love it! But a lot of it can be quite expensive so I’m happy to admire it and ask permission to take a photo or two. Yes, I think I am mad!
So here’s a second instalment of boxes, tins, bottles I’ve seen here in France lately. I should add however, that not all these products are French. Some come from next door in Spain (thanks to Vincent who is aware of my condition) or further afar. But they seemed too lovely to leave out.
I hope you enjoy them!









































