First, it was the cats and then was the mould, and then it was the maggots!
Haven’t had any of these before, but this time round well young Sam he’s nine years old and he said one morning Nana Nana there is a cat in the kitchen! What I cried, what?
And yes, there was a cat in the kitchen, and Sam decided that the cat going meow was in fact saying hello! Apparently that is cats talk. However we got rid of the cat and then the bread in the bread bin which was maybe a day or two old had the most disgusting mould so that too had to go!


But then the next thing was maggots, normally Himself has a mixture of cereal, yoghurt and berries for breakfast but this day he decided to have some ripe camembert ( he loves smelly cheese, ripe Camembert, Limburg, Stinking Bishop, Epoisses , Reblochon and the like,) but suddenly our Guest said it’s moving and it was; it was heaving with squiggly, squiggly, white maggots!


This made me think about cheese after all many cheeses are made with mould of some kind, and there is one which comes with maggots! It comes from both Sardinian and Corsica, Casa Martu in Sardinia and Casgiu Merzu in Corsica. It actually means Rotten Cheese. It is made with sheep’s milk and the aging time is a mere 3 months. However it goes past the normal fermentation process by the introduction of the larvae of the Cheese fly! ( are you put off already ?) The Larvae are deliberately introduced to help break down the fat in the cheese and can become quite liquid with some of it seeping out. The larvae ( maggots) are translucent.

Nowadays, the cheese is considered to be unsafe for human consumption and is banned in the European Union for sale, but presumably is still made ( and eaten in private homes/ farms). Apparently, some people like the cheese but prefer to eat it without the maggots and are said to place the cheese in a sealed plastic bag, to starve the maggots of oxygen, and then the cheese is eaten ! Umm not for the faint hearted!
In case you haven’t guessed, we are in our usual summer retreat of the French Alps. Sounds a bit like royalty, leaving the city for the summer, but our French home is not that, but I have to say larger than the London one.

However, our French home is almost at the end of a narrow road, almost a track, actually it ends up being just that, a track. The top end of the street seems to have become builders paradise , chalets being built left, right and centre, but at our end, all is calm, most of the permanent residents have been here for at least a couple of generations and then there are a few new comers, like us.

This Sunday, was the day of the Festiplan, normally a yearly get together in May, but apparently July is the new date and we were duly invited. At noon sharp, it was Apero chez Martine, nibbles galore and then at one we all decamped to Babette’s Barn, what a Glory Hole it is, with STUFF stacked into every nook and cranny and beyond, and yet, it had been cleared and cleaned sufficiently for them to erect tables for 30, young and old were there, the youngest being about 10 and the oldest 80 +. It was Bonkers but in the nicest way, everyone brought along something, wine, water, salads, quiches bread, cold meats, cheeses, champagne and a birthday cake ( someone was 15) but not just one cake but two, and everyone was given slices of both. Jean-Claude played his accordion and Martine made the coffee. We left exhausted after 6 hours of French Bonhomie !



I have already mentioned Sam, our 9 year old grandson, he came to stay for a week and then as well friends from Texas. She has been over many times and is a big friend of Sam, but him is new to travelling and so it is all new to him. He fancied a steak sandwich for lunch ( after all he is from Texas) and assumed he had ordered one but it turned out to be basically a double Hamburg’s patty in half a banquette.

Consequently I’ve not been in the kitchen much for the last couple of weeks, but before we decamped, we ate at Côte, the slightly upmarket group of restaurants run by Richard Caring. Côte is an affordable small chain, theoretically specialising in Pseudo French food. I say pseudo as the last couple of times, it really has been just that. Poulet Breton, is a chicken dish cooked in a sauce with cream, cider, onions and Dijon mustard. The Côte version is a dried sad looking bit of chicken, which comes with optional Diane sauce. Ok a Diane sauce, is made with cream, but does not contain mustard, and the whole point of the Poulet Breton IS that it is cooked in the sauce! Shame on you Côte.
Poulet Breton is easy
- A jointed chicken or some thighs or drumsticks for 4 people
- Splash olive oil for frying along with 40 grams unsalted butter
- A white onion diced
- 250 mls dry cider/ white wine
- 100 mls crème fraiche or cream with a squirt of lemon juice
- 2-3 teaspoons Dijon mustard
- Salt and pepper to taste
- Tablespoon flour
- Parsley to garnish
- Optional, a couple of carrots sliced and a couple of leeks sliced
- A splash of brandy ( optional)
- I also like to add mushrooms just because I like them!
- Method
Heat the oven to (160 fan) 170, or # 3 gas
Using an ovenproof casserole, pour in the olive oil and after seasoning the chicken pieces with salt and pepper, fry them gently until brown all over.
Add the butter and when melted baste the chicken. Remove from pan
Add the onion ( and leeks and carrots if using) and cook gently until soft but not coloured, stir in the flour to make. Roux and slowly add the cider/ wine, stirring well to prevent any lumps forming.
Add the crème fraiche and mustard and bring to the boil to thicken slightly.
Arrange the chicken in the pan, skin side up and cook uncovered for about 30 minutes until cooked throughly.
Garnish with parsley. Serve with potatoes, salad, French bread to mop up the sauce.































