Cheesus!

Like I said, the Cantal is a big cheese producing area. There are cow pastures everywhere you look, perched on the sides of mountains and on nearly every available flat spot. Many of the cheese producers are part of a tourist circuit and they invite visitors to watch the cows being milked or the cheese being made (more about that later).

This way to cheese!

Almost every town in the vicinity of Salers has at least one producer and the signs like the one pictured above help direct you to their farms. There's a map given out at tourist offices and by cheese vendors in the markets that help you to locate the various producers. The people in these parts are very proud of their cheese, and rightly so. Cantal is among my favorite cheeses.

The closest producer to St.-Chamant.

The cheese in Cantal is a hard cheese made naturally in two very similar varieties. Basic Cantal is made all year round. Salers is made only during the non-winter months when the cows are grazing on live grass and the process is more strictly controlled. I should also say that the beef from Salers steers (a recognized breed of cattle) is highly prized.

This was nowhere near a church.

I was slightly taken aback by this creepy vision at the end of the road where our rental house was, just as you leave the town of St.-Chamant. I couldn't help thinking, as I passed it, "Look! It's Cheesus Christ!"

A Few Days In The Auvergne

This past week Ken and I spent with some American friends in the Auvergne region. We were in a small town called Saint-Chamant which is in the Cantal département. There's a cow's milk cheese called Cantal whose production is centered on the nearby town of Salers.

Entering St.-Chamant.

Our gîte (rental house) was a beautifully restored stone house with three large bedrooms, a huge living room and equally huge dining room, a modern kitchen, and two full baths. Five of us were very comfortable there. The house faced south with a gorgeous view across a small valley.

Our rental house. Can you spot Callie?

We arrived Tuesday evening after about four hours on the road, the last hour and a half of which was spent on small mountain roads through low clouds and rain showers. We arrived and got settled, then prepared dinner with ingredients we had brought from home: fresh garden tomatoes, mozzarella, grated carrots, rabbit rillettes, and other goodies.

The back of our rental house and the view.

Callie was good on the ride, but we could tell she was happy to get out of the car. She settled in as well and we all spent our first night comfortably.

Queen Anne's Lace Again

I can't get enough of this stuff. I think it's cool in all its forms. So here's another gratuitous shot of carotte sauvage.

Queen Anne's Lace (daucus carota), all balled up.

There's a lot of it out there and it's putting on quite a show as it heralds the waning summer season. And these days there's a chill in the morning air. Fall is just around the corner.

Your Host

I took this photo halfway through a walk one recent sunny morning. A hot air balloon was jetting westerly and Callie took off after it, barking all the way. She ran all the way out to the end of the dirt road (about three quarters of a mile) and waited for me there to catch up.

I know, you would rather have seen Callie.

The balloon was long gone by the time I got there, and there was Callie munching on some grass. At the end of the road where we turn around to head back, I usually crouch down and call Callie to come and give me a kiss, after which she turns and runs back toward home. This time I had to wait for her to finish her grass before I got my kiss, so I snapped a photo.

The Red And The White

The grapes are maturing out in the vineyard and are looking very appetizing. They actually taste good, but they're not intended for eating. I pick a single grape every now and then just to taste (the grower has told us to taste the grapes anytime, so it's ok). Next year, we may be drinking these very grapes.

This is probably gamay.

I was talking to a friend over the weekend who said he thought the harvest wouldn't start until late September. That sounds about right, but all will depend on the weather in the next few weeks. Some rain is predicted, but not much, so the longer the grapes stay dry and can soak up warm sun during the day, they should do fine.

This looks like chenin.

That's me, talking like I know anything about growing wine grapes. And my friend isn't in the business, either, but he has several cousins in the area that grow grapes.

I Beg Your Chardon

I never promised you a thistle garden. Chardon being the French word for thistle, of course. And it doesn't rhyme with pardon. I know, I know.

Some variety of thistle.

Lots of these are showing up out around the vineyard right now. It's pretty when there are a bunch of them together. I do believe they're related to the artichoke. Certain members of the family are edible, but I'm not sure about this one. I'm not about to try it to find out.

Pomme

It's the first of September. Still summer, but fall is fast approaching. The pommes (apples) on the trees all around us are looking better and better. I think it's going to be a good year for apples.

A golden (as opposed to Golden) apple.

This one is not in our yard, but out on a neighbor's property next to the vineyard. The apples on these trees are much better than the varieties we have in our own yard, so I pilfer a few every now and then for a pie.

The neighbor in question no longer lives in her house; she's in a nursing home. And her children only spend a few weeks a year at the house in summer. They live in the Paris region. So the apples go unpicked and unused and I don't feel bad about taking a few here and there.

I do use some of our own apples, but when these gold-colored ones are ripe, they are very tasty!