Dîner en Blanc

Let's revisit France, because, well - it was awesome.

As I remember it...Maurine had prepared a wonderful salmon rillette, along with crusty bread and little bite-sized quiches, all of which she tucked away in a picnic basket in the backseat of the Volkswagen. I was in the driver’s seat and we were headed to a “diner en blanc” as invited guests of Kate Hill.  As you remember, Maurine was my gracious host who I lived with in Nerac, a small French town located between Dominique’s farm and Kate’s house at Camont. She was an Arizona native but flourished as a real estate agent in California before retiring to Gascony. Since I had no idea where we were going, we were to follow Bill and Taff, two Canadian expats, who coincidentally had also retired to Gascony.

“Starting to see a retirement trend? ”

After an hour long drive, we began making our way up a massive hill, on top of which, laid an incredible vineyard and chateau owned by two wine-making sisters. As soon as we parked, I realized the view alone was worth the hour long drive.  I also realized that not everyone followed the dress code – there were a few oddballs that didn’t wear all white – um... that would be me. 

View to the East from atop the hill.

The Southern view from the hill.

The hilltop view looking to the North over the  grape vines.

Sorry, I had been living out of a backpack and a small leather duffel for the past five months. My white linen summer suit was the next outfit on the packing list, but I ran out of space for it in my pack. 

All the old folks brought out their best whips - it was one hell of a car show!

Other than myself,  everyone else was dressed to the nines in their best white linen.  Some even cruised up in their old classic whips.

I had to circle back after appetizers for some close up pictures.

Not a shabby backdrop for a French auto show!

Just outside the chateau, was a large motte of shade trees underneath which most of the festivities lay: a makeshift stage harbored a couple of musicians, a small wine stand where the sisters had set up their wares, and tables, ladened with food, wine, and candles.

Everybody is busy setting up their dining areas and my buddy Dylan is posing for the camera.

Dylan and I looking like something the cat dragged in.

An old pigeonette converted into guest quarters.

Kate and more of the expat group had already arrived and had begun setting up our table. I added Maurine's picnic basket to the others just as the two sisters gave a welcome toast from the stage.  The "diner en blanc"  had officially started.  It was so epically French and everything you would imagine it to be:  good friends, great food, old wine, fairytale setting, and fresh white linen.  

Time to feast!

Maurine's salmon.

The French version of the potluck dinner.

We watched these two couples all night - this seemed to be a regular affair for them.

It was quite the picturesque evening. The laid back casual elegance of it all was what France does best. I promised myself I would drag all of my Texan friends out to the ranch and do something like this.  

Something tells me, it just won't be like France. 

Year of the Cow

On any given Saturday morning in the early 90’s, you could find most kids watching cartoons. Not me.

I'd be curled up in chair with some book in my hands.

Yep, I was one of those anomalies known as a “young reader.” Don’t get me wrong, I did watch TV, but it was mostly the History Channel (an obvious foreshadowing of my college degree).

Not a whole lot has changed. I still love to read and seeing as I have so much time on public transportation here in Brooklyn, I’ve gotten the opportunity to dive into other people stories.

When I first decided to pursue craft butchery, I knew I needed to build my knowledge on the topic. What better way to learn than to start collecting books? My mother contributed an awesome stack on butchery basics and my grandmother has stashed her life’s collection of cookbooks away for me. There are so many books I’m positive my soon-to-be-accountant brother couldn’t keep track.

I’ve read a few here and there, but between working all summer and moving across the country, I haven’t had a huge opportunity to pick through them.

There is one, however, that has made quite an impact on me.

Year of the Cow, by Jared Stone.  It was given to me on my birthday by my good friend Mamie B. At the time, I was in the middle of another read, so I packed it for my Brooklyn journey to flick through on my morning commutes to the processing facility.  Year of the Cow is the documentary of a television producer in LA who bought an entire butchered, grass-fed steer. He proceeded to feed it to his family over the course of two years.

You might ask, why? The answer is simple.

He was curious.

He wanted to know more about where his food was coming from and what he was actually feeding his family every evening for dinner. The book documents his experiences as he feeds his family the entire steer. Nose to tail. No skipsies. What makes the book even more awesome? He includes recipes at the end of every chapter. So if you’re wondering how to cook a cow tongue, look no further.

Year of the Cow was obviously relevant to me, but it also appeals to a mainstream audience as well.  Everyone who consumes food and is curious about their food origins would find this book both entertaining and insightful. The diet Stone adopted in his two year exploit hit me as odd; however after he explained the true origins of basic kitchen staples, I found myself starting to question and shift my diet for the better.

So here's the deal: I’m going to take it slowly and be conscious of what I am consuming.  I want to try to cut out all sugar. The key word here is "try",  because honestly, this  Texas boy loves sweet iced-tea and his mama’s three-berry cobbler. But I am going to cut back. 

Overall, Jared Stone's carnivorous tale of a family bond created over a steer is a good read for foodies.  It is a must read for the food-sourced conscious coterie.

Not a bad read to start my year of the cow.