Wednesday 24 June 2015

A Week in France

Mr. FFID and I had the most relaxing time at my parents' place in the middle of nowhere  Corrèze in France, perfect when you need a little break.

Our daily routine consisted of eating an unhealthy sweet breakfast of baguette slathered with milk chocolate and salted caramel spread or croissant, a 7km run (so as not to feel guilty for eating like pigs bons vivants), apéritif, a two hour lunch, a nap, sometimes a cycle, apéritif and a long dinner. It feels like I only remember the time spent sitting at the table, eating a ridiculous amount of food with my parents.

It was the first Father's Day in ten years that I spent in France so we treated my dad to a meal in the local restaurant and he was delighted with the Teeling Whiskey I brought all the way from Dublin. I cooked a lot for my parents, to show off my Ballymaloe cooking skills and one thing they absolutely loved was the Ottolenghi's apricot, walnut and lavender cake I made. I've always wanted to make it but waited to be in France where I could use my parents' walnuts and lavender from the garden along with delicious apricots from the market. The flavours scream of summer in France and it was the perfect occasion to eat it!

One of the highlights of the week was a visit to the local food market on Sunday morning. The little town of Egletons was buzzing and there was some fantastic food. 

I loved seeing all the displays of cherries, peaches and apricots, the cheese, the charcuterie, the breads and the rotisserie chickens. We bought lots of goodies which we enjoyed for lunch a few hours later.

Mr. FFID and I couldn't resist the organic crêpes which only cost €1.50, so we had our second breakfast at 10 am... 

Spending a little time in France was lovely... I forgot how it is to wake up to a blue sky for an entire week and just wearing flip flops and a little dress all day without being cold. I also forgot what it is to eat four to five courses at each meal. That said, coming from Ireland there are things about France that I don't miss. I don't get why everything is closed on a Monday, why the local restaurant says they're full when they have plenty of free tables around and why the hell the butcher closes from 12.15pm to 3pm. They may have better weather but the French always seem to make life more complicated, this always reminds me why I love living in Ireland. 

After a week in France I officially can't look at cheese or a saucisson anymore. Needless to say I'm dreading my skinny jeans but life is too short and I'm sure I'll be back to my cheese in no time at all.