I remember that first February along the canal, watching two flaneurs along the canal, walking and stopping, bending and tugging, standing and walking. What were they doing? I watched from the voyeuristic comfort of the Barge until I could stand it no longer. Crossing the canal over a little stone bridge, I went to meet les messieurs.  ”Excuse me, but what are you looking for? have you lost something?”

They smiled at me and my naivety then reaching into a vest pocket pulled out a handful of pencil thin, green and white stalks- Poireaux de Vignes.

These wild leeks not only grow among the vines and along the canal but in my garden, too. These came from the Saturday Market in Nerac along with a small bunch of the first aillets or garlic shoots.

Georgia braised them with some endive and we ate them with this fat magret, grilled very rare over the coals under the watchful eye of Cheminée Angel.

Magret Angel

]]> http://kitchen-at-camont.com/2011/02/21/spring-treasures-wild-leeks-aillets/feed/ 0 http://kitchen-at-camont.com/2009/11/19/day-two-this-gascony-this-terroir/?utm_source=rss&utm_medium=rss&utm_campaign=day-two-this-gascony-this-terroir http://kitchen-at-camont.com/2009/11/19/day-two-this-gascony-this-terroir/#comments Thu, 19 Nov 2009 07:36:11 +0000 Kate Hill http://kitchen-at-camont.com/?p=1087 Driving to the Chateau St. Loup en Albret this morning was like flying between cloud and earth- rows of golden vines turning in sunshine alternated with blankets of fog concealing house and farm. Montagnac’s church spire floated above the mist.

First stop after gathering Melissa, Robert, Tag, Porter and Nick was the morning market at Lavardac- a good beginner’s guide to local good food.

What we bought and then cooked and ate this day:

• pâté de grand-mere-  a black pepper-studded liver pâté from Patricia
• 2 magrets de Canard. 1 1/2 pintade
• pâté de langue- pork tongues en gelée
• 3 cheese from Bruno-a Pyrennes sheep cheese, a creamy goat cheese from the Perigord, a slice of perfectly ripe Brie de Meaux
• from the Chapolard’s charcuterie stall- saucisse de toulouse, boudin noir, an aire-cured noix de jambon, saucisse sèche
• black radishes, mustard greens, radicchio, spinach and sunchokes form Francoise’s organic garden
• mushrooms-  cèpe and girolles from Paul
• bread
• wine, armagnac and little shot glasses with a pruneaux drowning in Armagnac in each one

We ate lunch, a picnic near the river at Vianne before driving to Camont.

Camont in sunshine on a November day- the kitchen warming to the fragrance of a richly perfumed Gateau Basque,  a pintade braising in a short wine broth enriched with pruneaux, la cruchade cooked and steamed, and several bottles of Domaine la Galine.

Dinner was the rich and savoury terroir of Gascony on a plate.  Fotos to follow.

Now that I have your attention, let me explain. I love honey. I use honey in many of my traditional recipes like pain d’épice, chevre, miel & armagnac tartine or a pan-seared foie gras aux 4-épice. Best of all, I love honey straight from the pot, drizzled over warm toasted bread that has been smeared with fresh salted butter. But I have never, ever had such delicious honey as that Miel de Ronces (bramble honey) from local beekeeper Narcisse Ferranoto.

This year I wished for a bee swarm and got one (see archives here), followed the #Tweehive happening on Twitter and have been planning to integrate more beekeeping in Camont’s resident programs. Only problem was WHO would be our King Bee?

While working on a chapter for my book of French food producers- “Butcher, Baker, Armagnac-maker’, I have long ‘stalked’ this honey man, this beekeeper, this sweet pillar of the market. This week Photographer Xtraordinaire Tim Clinch, fall intern Julia Leach, and I went across the Garonne River and through the woods to discover the sweet secret way of the beekeeper Narcisse Ferranoto at his Ferme de la Chateau Madaillan. After coffee with his smiling new bride, (they have lived together 30 years and just married 5 months ago!), Narcisse told me a few sweet secrets and, at last, I know the answer of just how he makes THE BEST HONEY IN GASCONY.

Want to know how? Then join us this spring in France for the inaugural Apiculture Internship at

La Ruche… outside the Kitchen-at-Camont.

April-June 2010.

Narcisse Ferranoto by Tim Clinch

French Beekeeper Teacher at Camont

The Agen market is full of surprises on a perfect fall morning.

Today, shopping for quince, cress, and cilantro I ran into a drove of pigs.

Free-range, pasture-raised French pigs.

Like a stage setting, simplicity itself- one knife, a cleaver, a wooden block,

& a smile.

Julien Veyrac

of Tournon d’Agenais

No one was more surprised than me to meet the new butcher boy on the block

and discover some damn good looking charcuterie and fresh pork.

Merci, Julien for taking over the family farm.

See you next Wednesday for your andouillette-

my secret ingredient for an onctuous cassoulet.

Wednesdays- Agen Central Market

]]> http://kitchen-at-camont.com/2009/10/29/could-this-be-your-perfect-pig-on-an-october-morning/feed/ 0 http://kitchen-at-camont.com/2009/08/17/meet-the-teachers-1-a-solo-act/?utm_source=rss&utm_medium=rss&utm_campaign=meet-the-teachers-1-a-solo-act http://kitchen-at-camont.com/2009/08/17/meet-the-teachers-1-a-solo-act/#comments Mon, 17 Aug 2009 13:03:13 +0000 Kate Hill http://kitchen-at-camont.com/?p=587

This is the pig that roots in the woods then lives in the barn that eats the grain that becomes the bacon that I bought in the market that came from the house that Jill built.

Jill is really called Marie-Helène but she did indeed plant the corn that she feeds her long-snouted pigs that she takes to the abattoir that she turns into fine traditional charcuterie that she sells at the weekend markets in the Tarn department about 2 hours from here.

Marie-Helene defies the beret-wearing burly butcher stereotype here in France. She is a feminine and soft-but outspoken butcher/pig farmer who singularly raises and processes her own pigs before selling them to a small but loyal group of farmer market goers. She tells me that she sells a relationship as well as the fresh pork and cured meats, one based on trust and confidence in her everyday hard work. Her week is long, like most farmers, but she has learned how to maximize the time spent in the ‘laboratoire‘ to slaughter, cure and pack just enough pork each week to sell out. And she does it alone. Yup! All by herself. single-handed. Alone. She raises, slaughters, butchers and cures two to three pigs a week, every week, all year long. She is my new hero.

The bacon made with these pigs tastes and smells of that earthy farm perfume that distinguishes  ‘small-batch’ farm-raised charcuterie from the sanitized version of pork products that Americans have come to know and love. It only happens when the farmer is the cook and in this case, the butcher and charcutière as well. I call it ‘close-to-the-earth’ gastronomy.

What do you know about pigs and pork? Think again. Think France. Think 5 generations of raising pigs.

This could be your new teacher.

(Fergus Henderson admonished us years ago to ‘hug our butchers’ and today Ed Bruske inspired to me hug my teachers.  Hugs to the garden teachers here at Slow Cook.)

Photography by Eugene Frerichs while at the Kitchen-at-Camont this summer. To see more of her work while in residence here, click here.

Merci!