Getting social with the natives

Hubby and daughter come home from the Saturday market announcing we have been invited to party and we should go.  I now need to sit down as a) hubby would rather be at home with a good book than interact with strangers and b) with the enthusiasm that this announcement is delivered I know there is no objecting. 

Please supply details, well its next Saturday up in the hills at St Martin at the Salle de Fête.  St Martin is really up in the hills quite a windy road from St Paul but not too far and still part of the Fenouillèdes. It was made famous or (infamous depending who you talk to) by Chateau Monty written by Monty Waldin. I am still hesitant how did this invitation come about?  Well, we met K (lovely English Mum, bilingual daughter in son’s class) and she was with her friend E (French I think but spent at lot of time in the States), well she host's parties in the autumn/winter to get the community together.  Well we are not of the community of St Martin (according to the Marie website 55 residents!)  No it’s not exclusively for St Martin residents after all K doesn’t live there does she? Ok, what's the plan? Not really sure; a euro for the DJ and bring a plate for bring and share supper and of course drink. Still trying to digest this and all the enthusiasm it is delivered with but hey ho, it's probably time to get out there and bond.

On the last trip back from London hubby’s plane was diverted to Bezier as the visibility was rubbish, funny that the Paris plane could land but it probably was a smaller craft than the Ryanair plane.  So there I was dutifully waiting at Perpignan airport for him while he was 2 hours away.  Managed to get hold of him on the phone and agreed I needed to get back for the school run and we would make new collection plans later.

The school run had also changed, as we have formed a lift club in the road.  We realized three cars were going to the same schools at the same time virtually every day.  The primaire and college are next to each other, very handy for all.  So it was my weekly turn to do the school run and felt I couldn’t offload neighbour’s children onto the ever willing Gigi.  I had imagined we would not use the car for the school run but the fact is that even though the schools are only 5 mins away by car they are a 15 – 20 minute walk along the busiest road and the college school bags are really heavy; plus no one really seems to walk here if they can drive.

The drive back from Perpignan was full of water on the roads and the mist was rolling down the mountains all looking a bit gloomy.  I wasn’t too thrilled about the going back to the aéroport but at least Simon could drive the return trip; or maybe he could even try the €1 bus? The school run done and we now wait on tender hooks for the call of collection at least we know he is on the bus back to Perpignan. The call comes in, no worries he's met a man on the bus who lives in St Paul and will happily give him a lift back.  Great, time for that Friday glass of wine while the thunderstorms clap loudly around me, so pleased not to be driving.

Hubby is dutifully delivered home and numbers exchanged, ‘let’s get together’s’ cried and hearty thanks given, we settle in for a cosy family evening. That week we get a call from S (the angel of the lift) to come for aperitifs, hubby is all up for it again, this socialising thing is catching.  We as a family walk to the house and the lovely S and L are very hospitable and welcoming.  We have sundowners watching the sun slipping behind the mountains but it’s a school night we need to get home and the invite was for aperitifs not the evening.  Arrangements are made to meet on Saturday morning for hubby and la fille to climb the smaller Via Ferrata on Saturday. La fille has wanted to do this since she was six so is very excited.

(View of St Paul from the Large Via Ferrata)

So Saturday rolls around and they off to climb the face of the mountain, literally.  Le garcon and I hit the Saturday market and I try and decide on what plate to bring for our ‘bring and share’.  This is not a decision to be taken lightly this is my first social outing with food and we all know how the French are about their food.  I will never be able to take this first plate back it better be good or at least acceptable. I decide on, what is becoming, my signature anchovy salad. At sundown we head up the mountain to St Martin this road is windy, how are we going to get back down?  ‘I won’t drink and I’ll drive back’ I say to hubby, ‘on these roads I don’t think so’ comes the reply.  For a small place it was hard to find the ‘Salle de Fete’ but eventually we did and even though we were later than the appointed time we were early.  I put my best French forward but that was silly as the people that are there are English. E speaking perfect English is not, but somehow sounding like a native.  We help set up and more people arrive and the kids begin to get more rowdy.  Drinks are shared (sorry never in a plastic cup, I have my glass, thank you) and then it dawns on me we are in an English enclave everyone including the 5 French that arrive are speaking English!  What’s going on? Needless to say we met some lovely people the kids had a ball with their mates, nearly drinking wine instead of apple juice as someone had decanted white wine into a ‘ jus de pomme’ container!  

The mixture of people was quite diverse and all settled in France for differing reasons. I met a lady who is possibly even more passionate about rugby than me that was a revelation, an ex Marine who is now a Nordic skier, tired after harvest winemakers and a fellow South African.  So just your average Saturday night out then, could be in London.  It dawned on me that I was in the same hall that had been written about in Chateau Monty and that felt special as I had been dreaming of my NOW life while reading that book. 

Obviously we made it down the mountain in one piece, and were back to Perpignan on Sunday to drop hubby at the airport for his London run and for the kids and I to finally attend the Riverchurch (English speaking, non-denomination) where we met more very welcoming people.  Now to most that is not a lot of socialising in one week but it is more than I ever did in London for years, and all mainly instigated by hubby, is the French living changing him and us? I hope so.

Do we eat like the French?

YES, but no.

Obviously one of the things I was most looking forward to was the wonderful food in France. I had visions of the most perfect 'potager' with the children collecting seasonal veg (all in soft focus). Obviously it’s way too soon for that but have our eating habits changed?

St Paul doesn't have the greatest market, it’s there and it does its job. There are better ones in Perpignan (wrong side of the tracks) but good, 3 cantaloupe melons for €1.49, a third of the price of the supermarkets. Quillan also has a good Saturday market but that is up the mountain on the overhanging rock narrow road, really have to WANT to go there rather than just pop in.

So where does this leave me? At the supermarché, that’s where. Apparently our local Carrefour is 'très cher' but being used to London prices I am not shocked. However the grocery bills have been rather large but when examined it was all 'la fille's' required stationery that was adding up, which not having had a child in secondary school before; I am sure the price in UK would be similar.

If I have found anything eye watering and a bit of a deep breath needed it’s at the meat counter. Like most I prefer organic or at least not factory farmed but you do pay. Hubby went pale when the local butcher asked for €40 for 10 double joint chicken pieces. They were delicious. The good news is the seafood can be inexpensive and it’s lovely and fresh.

As mentioned before the kids eat in the canteen. I had to pick up 'le garcon' from there and I wanted to stay and eat the meal he couldn't. They have a choice of starters normally salady type of dishes, bread (natch, but only 3 pieces mind). They have to eat most or all of their main course and on the day I was there it was salmon in dill sauce, it looked really good. Then dessert can be anything from flan, fruit or ice-cream. So far my kids seem to love it and don't appear to come home staving and all that for €3 a day. The teachers are not on duty at lunch and they have a separate dining room with one way glass I have never had it confirmed that they have a glass of wine but I so hope they do.

So hubby and I (if he's) here, generally have breakfast together at 10ish fresh bread and/

or pastry, confiture, fruit, yoghurt and café. Lunch is well, bread again with a bit of salad, cold cuts and of course the fromage.

Dinner can be anything from beans on toast (yes Heinz) I am afraid we imported them but they are available here at a price; to homemade veal escallops’ with mushroom sauce, depending what day it is. So we eat well but smaller portions throughout the day rather than a huge meal in the evening.

So do we eat like the French? There is definitely a lot more bread on our table. We are eating seasonal fresh veggies and fruit because we have to. The fromage is ever present but that isn't all that different from before but the taste oh yes, the ripe sweet tomatoes, juicy flavourful peaches and plums added to the bounty of green and black figs from Gigi's garden all eaten al fresco, yes it does seem more French, but I suspect those Heinz baked beans and frozen petit pots will always have a place in my pantry/freezer.

 

As for the dreams of the potager, I have asked if there is an allotment free and I'm waiting to hear if there is one available. In the meantime I have planted loads of seeds mainly herbs and for some spring colour lots of bulbs, it’s a small start. Come the spring we will get ready for those home grown salads. In the meantime I have the markets and the wonderful bio veggies from @maspeyre and I've heard a rumour that IF I'm really lucky some ready to eat sanglier may appear! Très French, non?

 

Harvest continues to continue, the weather is playing up again and some of the red varieties are not yet at optimum ripeness. I will do a full report when the wine is settling and possibly some of it is blended. A bientôt.