This is an old post-card of Thezan which is new to me.

It shows the Place d’Horloge when it was the centre of the village and I am surprised to see a well by the side of the former Mairie.

Yesterday’s Everyman crossword, a ginless G&T (it’s Monday) and a terrace with a view.

Cellist Francoise Saique and guitarist Samuel Stouk warm up for their performance on our own Rue del Catet for the Festival les Nuits [inattendues] Del Catet.

This plant has led a charmed life.
The sunflower seed was originally part of a bird seed mix which was spilled from the feeder by a clumsy sparrow and landed in the flower box where Síle later planted the basils. She was going to discard the “Intrusive weed” when she thought she recognised it and gave it a pot of its own.
The intrusive weed then justified her faith by growing up to be a beautiful Sunflower.

All of the dramas of plant life happen on our terrace here in France.

“Ce jour en 1893, Maupassant rendait son dernier souffle.”
Just read this with some surprise- had no idea Maupassant was into cooking.
(The perils of not using accents)

Our eggman (no walrus he) comes around on a Monday morning and usually has something extra- often from his own garden- in his van. Last week it was these Coeur de Boeuf tomatoes so, even though they are ugly blighters, we decided to try them out.

I made a gratin of Fennel with them, some onions, garlic and black olives and scattered the top with grated Comte (a Jane Grigson recipe, she calls it A La Nicoise).
A little undercooked the first time but reheated last night it was stunning and the star was the slices of Coeur de Boeuf.

They were wonderfully meaty with intense flavour despite all the cooking and reheating.

I’m a fan.

A sudden storm sweeps away the cloud cover from Mount Canigou and marches towards us. Five minutes later we were whipped with a violent squall, we lost electricity and the rain thundered. Five old plane trees were knocked on top of cars in Pezenas but no-one was injured.
An hour later it was all passed.

Flicking, as you do, through an old gardening magazine I came across this small ad for suppliers of water-lily plants which surely impresses. Apparently this company were the suppliers to Claude Monet, in Giverny in 1894 !

On a recent visit to the Chateaux de Bruniquel ( there are two) I saw these ranges in the kitchens. The bigger obviously good for large parties the other festooned with marvellous cobwebs.

It all started with us deciding to defrost the freezer, this of course entails a complete emptying of the same and, as usual, we manage to find a few treasures in the nether regions.

This time it was a bag of sloes, brought I am sure by some kind Irish friend. Now it just so happens that I have a batch of sloe gin on the go started just a few days ago. The sloes for this had been gathered for me by my friend Clive about 18 months ago, six months before he died.
His wife Sue had found them in her freezer and presented them to us in Ireland in April when we were there. They had popped straight back into my freezer here in Thezan until last week when I started macerating them in gin.

Trouble was I now needed a larger preserving jar to contain the extra sloes. No trouble I thought.

The top row of my “Jam Shelves” has several pots with extremely dubious concoctions. I was sure at least one of them would be ready to discard in the bin.
Up the ladder I went and down they came for tasting and discarding, Síle and I got out our spoons.
First under the hammer was an Eau de Vie de Quetsh (a Quetch is a bitter plum) these I had found a man selling by the side of the road in 2012 and bought the lot. It was sure to be awful.

It wasn’t.

It was totally delicious.

Back it went on the shelf.

Next to be tasted was a batch of black olives which were the gleanings from a machine picked tree, which we had cured in oil in 2011. I was getting the bin ready while Síle tasted these.

They are really good she said.

My heart sank.

They were saved too.

Last up was a bottle of Eau de Vie de Prune from 2010.

You have of course guessed it. The plums were delightful, the liqueur potent and delectable.
Back it went.
In the end I had to discard a large jar of duck fat from the fridge- it was fine but can be replaced easily.

That’s it on the shelf, fourth from the right, now full of sloes and alcohol.

I mean fat is fattening isn’t it ? And good digestion is important for health.