Good times: they're a spécialité of the region.

We got to sleep in an extra half hour because there was no kitchen class this morning. So we worked out and I still had time for breakfast. Today’s plan was to go to the Saturday market at Les Halles in Châtillon-sur-Chalaronne, so once again we piled into the trust rental van (a Renault Trafic) and off we went, through the towns and under a bridge whose opening was extremely narrow – it had about as much clearance as my van does going into the garage. (A moment here – our van is called a Trafic, and we see a lot of the Citroen van called a Jumpy – are those weird names or what?) Les Halles is a covered market with every kind of cheese, meat, bread, fruit and vegetable that this area has to offer. In addition, the town is so picturesque that it looks fake – what a Disney French village would look like, only it’s for real. 

The first thing when you walk in are pens of live chickens in very fine feather. Also some very tame bunnies and some small pet birds like finches. We only got a few stalls in when we came to the cheese. There were several places selling cheese, but this one had cheese from everywhere. I think that’s where I spent the most time. It basically looked like a very good cheese shop, so for those of you who live near a great cheese shop it would not have been a big deal, except that none of these cheeses had travelled more than 600 miles, and of course many or most weren’t made with pasteurized cheese, which makes them taste totally different.

The market was both wonderful and frustrating. Wonderful because it was some of the best looking meat I’ve ever seen, and more sausages than even Dave could imagine, and every kind of French cheese. Frustrating because not only could we not buy anything to bring home, we’re too full to even snack our way through. There were some goat cheese buttons for .75 euro, but even the idea of eating them made me feel too full. Another fun thing about the market was checking my knowledge of French food, which is getting better all the time. I can do most fruits and most meats, and I did pretty well at the spice place also.

"Owwwwl"

At first we all stayed pretty close together, but eventually we split up. We went with Cedric to the other market, where they had clothes, shoes, and purses. On the way there I saw some pretty terrific pants for Nia, but there were so many different ones I couldn’t choose, so I didn’t get any. We walked around, and then we found the others having coffee. They’d made lunch reservations so we went off to wander around the town until 1. Of course everything in the town was closed because it was lunchtime, but it was fun to walk around and window shop and see all the architecture. The town was where St. Vincent de Paul was a priest, and so there was a monument and some things dedicated to him. Also it had many very pretty bridges. On the way in we’d crossed one bridge and the building next to it had a statue of an owl. It was fun trying to help Cedric pronounce owl – it’s not easy for a French person. But Cedric is very brave about trying to pronounce things, unlike me. I tend to just give up. On the bridge Diana also coined (or at least shared with us for the first time) the name “Pedrick”, which refers to both Patrick and Cedric and is very useful.

At 1 we all met at the pizza place and ordered pizzas and salad. We had one with merguez sausage that was very good – the bottom crust was exceptionally thin and crispy, and the outer crust was chewy and delicious. While we were eating I thought I saw a dessert with profiteroles, but when we got the dessert card it wasn’t on there and the waitress told us it wasn’t profiteroles anyway. So I consoled myself with 2 scoops of glace – salted caramel and cassis. Patrick, Cedric, Dave, and Loraine had just the caramel, and the others watched enviously. On the drive home we stopped at a patisserie, where way too many people bought things for dessert, and the river Saone, which was also very picturesque.

By the time we got back to the hotel it was almost 4, and the weather had cleared up very much, so we made an appointment to meet at 5:00 for petanque. Petanque is a very simple game, similar to bocce but not needing a court. We broke into four teams- Nicole and I were a team, and we played against Cedric and Diane; Dave and Lorraine were a team, and they played against Patrick and Carol. Dave’s team and my team were defeated, so the four of us got to watch Patrick and Cedric and their partners go at it in the great final. Patrick is a pretty fierce competitor, but he also kept it very light. Carol was surprisingly good, and she and Patrick ended up winning. At one point Lorraine came over and said to Dave and me, “I know it is 10 to 8, but who is winning?” and I said, “10 is winning,” which she thought was the funniest thing ever. There were several moments where both Dave and I stepped outside the moment to view it and think, “we’re playing petanque in Burgundy with French people at a chateau”, which is really amazing when you think about it.

We all dressed for dinner, and we had bags at each seat with our names on them with a jar of Cedric’s figgy jam. Dinner was similar to the first night in that we ordered off the menu. Except now we had helped cook many of the dishes on the menu and it no longer seemed overwhelming at all. Valerie came and brought her husband Luc, who has very good English and is very funny as well. It felt like a group of old friends going out to dinner. Also there was a lot of wine – we started with two glasses each of champagne, then a glass each of two different pouilly-fuisses, 2 wines from the Cote du Rhone (Gigondas & St Josef), and more champagne. I had the same appetizer I had the first night, the mousseline in a langostine bisque, because it is one of the best sauces ever. Dave had frog legs and sweetbreads, which impressed the French people no end. And then there was cheese, and more dessert than you can possibly imagine, including a meringue-and-pastry cream dessert that is a specialty of the region and came with two small fountain-type fireworks on top.

We ate and we ate, and we talked and we talked, and Franz came in to say goodbye, and the dinner went on forever and was over too soon. Then it was time for goodbyes, which we hate. We aren’t leaving until 4 and Patrick says we can stay in our room until then, so we will have a slow and restful day tomorrow, with maybe more petanque. This has been a very, very special experience, and every part of me except my stomach hates to see it end. What a fantastic time we’ve had!

Confidential to BOS: one day a roooooster...