Horse Feathers.

A few weeks ago, Mr G (Headmaster, Rtd) and I had a brief correspondence about butchers, and I said I might say  a few words about them in my next Blog.
Well, how topical!
In reply to a woman interviewed for the BBC in Todmorden Market yesterday, who said that the French "eat horse all the time" , - Horsefeathers. I haven't come across a Boucherie Chevalline for years. And thinking about it, the only outlet I knew of, a food counter in Leclec in Marmande labelled Cheval, has not been there for at least the last 5 years. So if 'The French' are eating it all the time, they must be hunting for their supplies.

Hunt they certainly do. I'm going out for a walk in a mo' but wouldn't be if it were the weekend. Through any of the woods you encounter men in High-vis jackets, shotguns crooked over arms, warning you not to go in a particular direction. Their prey are rabbits, pigeons, boar and venison. The husband of a woman I used to walk with once brought us a deer hindquarter - we never managed to finish it - and wasted a lean, healthy and organic source of tasty protein. The Chasseur's Repas in early May will be a feast of boar paté and sausage, venison steak, all washed down with local Duras wines and the eau de vie which is a local by-product.
 Neighbour Réné was out hunting with his lovely brindled dog yesterday, questing for the trail of rabbits across the bare field that was full of sunflowers 7 months ago; added to the vegetables he grows and the chickens he keeps it will reduce his food bills considerably. Although I do meet his wife Denise in the little stupormarket in Duras once in a blue moon as she dashes in between her Home-Carer visits.

I must confess that most of our meat comes from local supermarkets. I did try two excellent butchers who were helpful, and even willing to supply a joint of pork with the skin on and scored, but cuts are so different that it just became easier to examine what was packed ready in the supermarket. Each store of any size has its own butchery. You can see the hanging carcasses behind the counter, and there are notices that show where all the meat originates. Nearly always, the source is local. The aisle of ready meals has, sadly, increased over our 9 years here, but we are not tempted by the brightly coloured cardboard boxes when there is so much lovely duck, local fermier's chicken, good pork and local gamey lamb and mutton to try. (Beef, forget it, stringy cuts and poorly hung.)

But sometimes we would be grovellingly grateful for a proper butcher's banger.... < sigh >