Alors mes amis, the deuxieme post.
Since we last spoke, I have had a lot of pie. Specifically: a plum tart, a swiss chard tart, a French apple pie, an American apple pie… possibly there are more. The lady who owns this petit french paradise makes pastry like you and I make toast; indeed, I found her making a batch at half seven this morning (i know! up so early!). Apparently, all those rules I have followed religiously – use fridge-cold butter and ice-cold water, don’t overwork the dough, don’t get it too wet… – all irrelevant. Still not sure what the key is with that, but the revelation has been the creamy fillings: fresh goat curd with the plums, creme fraiche & nutmeg for the chard
ARGH SOMETHING JUST FLEW INTO THE CARAVAN AND I JUMPED OUT THE WINDOW AND TORE MY SHORTS
ok, pretty pie pictures to follow tomorrow; i’m going to bed because SOMETHING IS SCRABBLING AROUND and there is a mosquito whining in my ear and something flitting against my leg and my bum is out. damn countryside.
(by the way, kate (pie-mistress) is looking for another volunteer asap, so if anyone wants a week or two free holiday in the sunny south of france with all the pie you can eat and the rose you can drink included, plus fresh eggs and raspberries and figs and a sheep called margo and a giant dog, just 4h train from paris, then let me know. night. x)