First of all, I want to begin by wishing two of our Vancouver friends, Peter and Shirley a good recovery from their respective surgeries. Although we are far away, they are still in our thoughts.
Meanwhile, back in St Maurice . . . in spite of jetlag, the two ambitious Ohio volunteers are at work already. They landed in the CDG airport around 9:30-10:00, came to the Centre with Neal, and we marched them off to the Charenton market to get things for lunch and dinner. They then unpacked, ate, and asked "When can we start working!" They have been working with Yves ever since. Here is an update.
There has been much removing of wall paper by steam, even in the tiny bathroom in the directors' apartment. This room was created by Larry and Eleanor Miller decades ago out of two closets. It is long and very narrow indeed.
Yves is the renovation project manager, having done similar work on his own home and helping his many brothers with their homes. A retired theologian, he often preaches in Reformed churches near their new home in Descartes. Yves keeps in shape by taking l-o-n-g daily walks. While on this project, he has been getting up and out before 7:00 for his brisk one-hour walks. Fortunately, his route takes him return past a bakery on his way home, so he picks up fresh croissants and a baguette for our breakfasts. Yes, he spoils us.
Bonnie is a retired elementary school teacher, with energy to burn. The team is thankful that she actually enjoys detailed work and has a steady painting hand. She visited the local market with me this morning to get some more cheese (Port Salut and Emmantal Français), beautiful strawberries (three distinct kinds are available) and sweet red cherries (two kinds are available).
Since all five of us volunteers are in our 70s, we are lucky that at least one is still sufficiently flexible to wash and then paint the many ceilings. Bonnie claims she isn't hurting just yet.
Janice thought it might be nice to document the occasional unusual event--such as me trying to do something useful.
I therefore thought I should return the favour. This is Janice, hard at work in her office, on break actually, trying to figure out the weather . . . whether to go to Jardins Jardin today or Saturday. Both days are to have rain, but it looks like Saturday will be the day when she and Bonnie visit the big annual displays of what professional gardeners can perform in your (preferably estate) gardens. Otherwise, Janice is back in her cataloguing mode, fighting with the software as usual.
Now let's transition from work to a rather more interesting topic,
Food! On Wednesday I got a rotisserie chicken (Janice wouldn't let me also buy a bag of cooked potatoes from under the rotating racks of chickens; the delicious grease drippings drop onto the potatoes and it is a truly wonderful treat, but one should check your health insurance plans first). While the butcher was wrapping up my big free-range chicken, his partner brought out the largest and best-looking rabbits I have ever seen. Why even contemplate resisting? I pointed, he smiled most approvingly. They had just arrived and were special indeed. I got him to cut it up for me. The rabbit was so big that he cut the body crosswise, sort of like salmon steaks. I elected not to keep the head and wonder if that was a mistake. The large liver was ever so tender after I barely singed it.
I cooked the rabbits in tomatoes, garlic (whole head cut up), and lots of celery. Sadly, I didn't realize I had used up all the onions already. I added herbs from Provence, half a bottle of red wine, and braised it in the oven at a low temperature for four hours. It was then deboned (mostly) and we ate it the next day on rice, with fresh green beans. Of course the grand evening meal began with aperos (sparking wine, nuts) in honour of the Bloughs being able to join us after their long day of work. The third course was Janice's salad with slices of a special two-week-old goat cheese (covered with fine ash) Yves had purchased in Descartes from a local farmer at a market. Yves had tasted the rabbit the day before and declared (without any hesitation whatsoever) that this called for a fine Bordeaux wine, so that's what we had. Strawberries were passed around for the final course (with three diabetics and one pre-diabetic, it looks like pastries will not be on our table often).
It's not often that one gets to eat in a research library, but with everything going on, this is really the only suitable room for a group of seven until the weather improves and we can eat on the patio. A big oilcloth is on the table so we can do our best not to leave crumbs for future researchers.
Tom and Janice are cousins. His dad was Janice's mom's favourite brother (close in age). Well, the memories are flying, stories are being compared, and I'm seeing a side of Janice that is new and wonderful. Among other things, they are talking about food made by their parents. One dish they remember fondly is knepflies (exactly). Tom actually makes them, and volunteered to make them for today's lunch. Yesterday, I made a big broth with the rabbit bones and chicken bones. I then cut up all the bones to expose the marrow and got a second and equally delicious broth. The two combined were enough for six people. Tom made the knepflies by preparing s stiff dough by hand (white flour, salt, pepper, eggs at room temperature). He then slowly brought the broth up to a simmer and, one by one,formed each little 'dog ear' (as his family had called them, Janice's family called them knepflies 'little buttons' in a Swiss German dialect long forgotten by descendants) and dropped them into the broth. They cooked for a while, soaking up a bit of the delicious broth. It was a treat, entirely appropriate for this visit since this was likely the way their ancestors (women though, not the men) made this kind of peasant pasta while living in the Franche-Comté and likely even earlier when in Switzerland.
It's time for me to focus on getting dinner ready for (not sure how many people). Leftover rabbit stew on sticky rice (for a slight change), zucchini gently fried in unsalted butter from Normandy, and Bordeaux wine will be followed by the usual salad/bread/cheese course, and finally strawberries. My imagination is somewhat limited.
Evan
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