Well, I … and my sidekick Mint, we like our bacon extra crispy.
To be fair, French “smoked pig belly” is different to American bacon. Not sweet. Definitely holds the smoke notes without any shizz.i.am. So, it tastes great without the extra crisp.
Add to that “school potatoes.” As I add to my culinary toolbox the sous chef that is frozen veg, I tried frozen purée. Which is frozen mashed potato ice cubes ready for a thorough reheat. Seems easy and fast but, truth is, they taste like school potatoes fresh on your plate… a rest area before the bin. You have reached your destination!
Another photo of our retreat is up. A place to dine. I love staging this villa. It’s so clean and capable. I feel like I have a little vacation myself when I set things up
All the bacon is gone and more requests were put on the waitlist. Turns out, daddy loves bacon … of ant sort. So do all the kids. Poor Otto was in the field and missed all of it.
Alright you, hug some local bacon today. I’ll catch you up on the farm happenings on Friday.
It’s Mother’s Day in France tomorrow. This is my mother. She taught me many things. She taught me to be kind to people. She taught me to be responsible. She taught me to be happy. I could do whatever I wanted in my life as long as I was happy.
She taught me to laugh. I didn’t think of my mother as a funny person, but she had a sense of humor. She must have. She married my dad. She was a waitress when she met my dad. He was a cook. On her first day she asked him where the bathroom was. He pointed and said, “mention my name, get a good seat.”
She taught me to love and support your marriage. She loved my dad until he died. As a widow, she stayed present for teenage-me, to carry me into adulthood. She taught me strength. She taught me independence.
She taught me honesty. I remember her response after I told her about what a crappy day I had. “You must feel like a real loser,” she says. I laughed. I laughed because it was true. After stating the obvious, the only way was up.
My mother raised six kids without complaint. Her kids grew up to be great people.
Her advice to me every time I visited her, “Jean, don’t get old.”
Happy Mother’s day to my mom. She is resting peacefully now.
Escape to a farm in Southwest France. … that is the message. I live on a farm in Southwest France and I still need to tell myself that. It’s so easy to fill your head with people’s words. Podcasts, Stand-up Comedy, News, News on the TV, Youtube, Yabble Babble. So easy to sink time in to understanding what’s going on … and it is VERY interesting … but … is it? What is going on around you? You could probably check in each week and be ahead of the game. I say “escape” because the words people are using in the big cities, in town at your local big shop … feels stressed. What if you could push a button and deal with things like drying your clothes without a dryer, picking some vegetables for dinner, moving big animals to tasty pasture … No need for roller coaster rides that you wait hours to ride. … move some cows! thrill of a lifetime.
We are offering a glimpse into our farm. A temporary moment to experience what comes at us fast everyday. Decisions about beef, about chickens, managing pasture, about business selling meat, about future offerings… each day a steady state of known and a fireball of unknown. You’ll arrive and see five things we should do and you’ll leave knowing why we put energy into five other things you didn’t know. Or even better, you’ll relax, chill and enjoy the silence ( D. Mode ).
Our Air BnB can be booked at: Grasspunk Getaway
I took TONS of photos to promote our rental and these four photeez are core to my heart:
a kitchen to cook real stuff with good ingredients on a hot stove with seats for people
dozing on a bed with a door to the outside world, glimpsing at a book I find time to read each month the same chapter to remind myself of where I left off
grass and open pasture for miles and miles
a burger and another burger with a sloppy egg