MAGYC Pies at Camont
a MAGYC PIE... There are pies and there are PIES. There is magic and there is MAGYC. And yes, this is a bonafide, real, authentic MAGYC PIE. Over the years, I have dabbled in savoury pies as the visual and gustatory homage to Monsieur Monet’s painted pies here, here and here, of course! But this week as Fran and Ian from Melbourne, and Hilary from Sonoma, and Matt from Welbeck descend on the Chapolard home for lunch, we’ll be bringing... Read More
M’aidez! c’est May Day! Sirop des Roses…
#gallery-1 { margin: auto; } #gallery-1 .gallery-item { float: left; margin-top: 10px; text-align: center; width: 25%; } #gallery-1 img { border: 2px solid #cfcfcf; } #gallery-1 .gallery-caption { margin-left: 0; } From paté... Read More
Poule-au-Pot…a chicken in every pot.
Camont's Henri IV Merci Henri IV*. You started a culinary tradition that outlasts event he most political promises when you declared in the late 1500′s- Si Dieu me prête vie, je ferai qu’il n’y aura point de laboureur en mon royaume qui n’ait les moyens d’avoir le dimanche une poule dans son pot! If God spares me, I will ensure that there is no working man in my kingdom who does not have the means to have a chicken in the pot every... Read More
Raising Chickens & the age old conundrum of how to use a dozen eggs: Omelette Catalane
When I bought my first chickens at the Agen Market 18 months ago, it was an experiment in reclaiming the rural roots of Camont, a historic 18th-century Gascon farmhouse on two-and-a-half acres of fertile Garonne River Valley land. I have called Camont home base for over 20 years. I’d come and go as the work and pleasure ed me, sometimes floating away on the big Barge for chartering for months then returning again for months of summer landlocked... Read More
A Sweet Omelet as light as a golden cloud for you!
SPRING My Gascon neighbors call Spring- le saison d’amour the season of love. This morning, this too cold February morning and Valentine’s Day, I found my sweetheart present on the ground outside the chicken coop. Not one, but TWO fat white translucent-shelled duck eggs and the Spring promise of Easter ducklings and next Fall’s Duckfest here at Camont. When I was a girl, my mother had a funny way of nagging us to clean our rooms.... Read More
