Sloe days

Today, after several days of cold, when fires were lit of an evening, a warmer wind “souffled” perhaps up from the Sahara; anyway it was enough to steer L and myself towards the biggest market in the Dordogne, Ribérac Friday market.  We were on a hunt for artisanal walnut oil.  Although it is the season for “ramassing” walnuts it is not the season for buying walnut oil.  We were reliably informed of this by one of our local organic producers, Monsieur Troly.   His will not be ready until the “fin de Novembre” or the “debut de Decembre.” Our Perigordian salads will have to wait until then because the industrial type of walnut oil one buys in the supermarket will not cut the mustard so to speak, being thin, pale and somewhat watery in comparison.

No walnut oil to be had but an abundance of other fresh produce

The market has entered its autumnal quietude with fewer tourists and even fewer tourist type vendors, such as the accordionist belting out French café songs and the eternal sound of pan pipes that seem to greet one wherever one goes nowadays.  Remind me not to buy the CD. 

After a very pleasant lunch ”chez nous” of salad with Cabecou cheese and walnuts, washed down with the last of our Sauternes “bourru” (mildly alcoholic and 'petillante' and made from the first pressing of the new season’s grapes) the afternoon saw L and myself out in the countryside.  Five minutes out of town we found our regular spot for gathering sloes in anticipation of our Christmas apéro drink, sloe gin.  This year the bushes were bereft of the necessary berries.  Had the birds swiped them all anticipating a cold winter ahead or had somebody else had the same idea?  We widened our search and eventually found some further down the lane.  As dusk fell we scrambled about in the bushes receiving regular pricks just to remind us that it was nature that was doing us a favour.  The berries seemed smaller than last year and not so fecund but maybe the flavour will be more intense because of this.  We returned home to the warmth of our kitchen and proceeded to cram the sloes into our vintage preserving jar adding some gin and sugar to leave for time do the rest.  Cheers!

Not to be opened until Christmas