Next day, nothing substantial to eat, despite our taking a
little walk in the countryside (even though its being of
near-record dryness, some of the woods still satisfyingly
smell like mushrooms).

Lilli was a little under the weather and took a substantial
nap, so Swisher and I just read and played on the computer.

It was Jacquie's night to cook, so she made a simple but
delicious meal typical of the region.

The star was pork chops braised with apples and onions,
with I suspect a bit of white wine in there someplace;
delicious, especially because she had used somewhat fatty
shoulder chops. Potatoes with butter and beef stock made a
hearty accompaniment that though tasty wasn't anything I
wanted to eat more than a tiny taste of. The meal rounded
out with some not very French French beans contributed by a
neighbor and Savoy cabbage from the garden with chile (lots)
and bacon (not enough for me).

Dessert was more of that Maid of Honor tart and a wonderful
salted caramel panna cotta for those who were tired of tart.

Ian pulled out another rarity, the Barmes Buecher 06 Riesling
Clos Sand de Wettolsheim (Alsace), which was somewhat oxidized
in a controlled way, ripe, honeyed, but dry, and with that
hydrocarbon tang that some find charming in Riesling. I was
ambivalent about it; don't know how the others felt.

Generously, he poured me the last of his Doorly XO Barbados
rum, which was richly fruity with a little vanilla and spice,
pretty smooth but with just enough bite to let you know it's
there. Turns out it's his favorite, and he always asks his
brother for it for a Christmas present; sadly, Berry Brothers
no longer offers it, so it'll take a bit of digging to find
it again.

-
Tulle market

I'd been impressed by Ian's glad-handing at the Brive market,
but at Tulle, which is smaller, he knew just about everybody,
vendors and customers alike. I'm not sure we got any better
treatment - I got some perfectly mediocre mirabelle plums in
the same bag as excellent Reine Claude green plums from his
fruit merchant. The pork seller didn't do badly by us - we
got some Pata Negra Iberico ham that rivaled the best we can
get from Jose Andres, and the lomo cured with paprika and
salt was even better. or maybe others would think otherwise.
El Roble Negro apparently trucks its products up weekly from
wherever in Spain these delicacies come from. The Pata Negra
(with black hoof still attached to indicate authenticity) was
half as expensive as in the states (but still a large splurge);
it was wonderfully flavored and savory, the acorn fodder making
a distinct nuttiness in the meat and especially the fat. It was
drier than I expected and had a bit of not unpleasant chew. The
lomo with paprika and not too much salt was then smoked - my
kind of food, delicious. We also picked up assorted vegetables;
Jacquie and Lilli bought a couple more ripe melons. Ian and I
also took a detour to the artisanal butcher right nearby, where
I found the merchandise uninspiring. Ian got a bit over a pound
of what I thought to be rather too lean pork belly here, though.

Then we piled back into the car and went on to Brive and the
quite wonderful Grand Frais supermarket, which has a produce
department to beat, well, to be heretical, Wegmans, with other
mainstays such as Whole Foods a mile behind. Pretty much any
fruit or vegetable you could think of, reflecting the massive
diversity caused by the breakup of a large empire with the
French generously giving citizenship to the Southeast Asians
and Africans who chose to immigrate. I was going to say that
the French were more tolerant than the British in this regard,
thinking of the Indian issue, but in fact, the French do have
their Muslim problem, don't they. There's no easy solution.

There's a pork butcher with some pretty good stuff in the back
of the store, and as the guy was cutting up a loin when we
strolled by, we were offered some at an advantageous price -
normally I would have used shoulder, but the French, knowing
what's what, charge as much for belly and shoulder as they do
for loin.

The store sold me everything my little Oriental heart could
want, including a white pineapple and several handfuls of
pimentos de padron.

Lunch was leftovers augmented by my charcuterie and some of
Ian's cheeses. And then to work for me, torpor for them.
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