Our "currant" state...

It is now red currant season in France and I have to admit that these little guys are not in my repertoire. These tiny tart berries are native to western Europe and grow in grape-like clusters on small bushes. Turns out the place we are renting has a couple bushes out back which, despite their modest size, gave us quite a harvest.  At first the kiddos would just snack on the berries while playing in the yard.  Then one evening Jean and Audrey quickly filled a couple mixing bowls with the these tiny guys - about 3 kilos worth.  Challenge accepted!

There were also a handful of what are called "albino currants", somewhat sweeter than their crimson cousins (and from a mom's perspective, much less stain power!)

I started with an easy introduction to these unfamiliar fruits.  I found a super quick recipe for a tarte aux groseille (red currant tart) - http://www.marmiton.org/recettes/recette_tarte-aux-groseilles_17551.aspx. Couldn't be much simpler - place washed berries on a premade crust and cover with a custard like filling. Easy as pie, as we say back home.

Audrey seeming to question why I stopped cutting the tarte to take a picture of it...

Okay - these berries are now growing on me and I'm ready to up the ante.  Let's try some jam making!  No, I have never made jam before but I feel like the berries are calling me to do so.  It seems that red currants are naturally high in pectin so they are naturals in the whole jelly making business.  Jean and I spent an entire evening meticulously separating 2 kilos worth of berries from their stems. And so it begins...

cooking of berries (a handful of cherries and strawberries added since they were sitting around)

Processing the concoction through a hand grinder

A quick boil of the liquid and the addition of enough sugar to make a dietitian gasp - and voilà! We are in red currant heaven!! I couldn't help but feel a bit like my namesake from Little House on the Prairie knowing that we now have provisions to last us though a long winter.

Turns out I still have some 500g of currants left, even after our jam making extravaganza.  At this point I feel like currants and I are old buddies.  Red currant and orange muffins finish off our harvest as we end on my turf.

Currants have been tackled - now onto packing those suitcases.  Tomorrow we are heading to the other side of the Atlantic for our first (of many!) summer trips home.  Hope to see some of you all soon!!

A shot in the dark

We are now just a few weeks shy of our one year anniversary in France.  It's hard to believe how fast it has gone by!  It also means that we are at the end of many "firsts" (at least calendar wise).  One last one though - my first July 14th in France.  Even though Jean and I would frequently come in the summer on vacation, I had never been here for "Bastille Day".  Given its proximity to the Forth of July, I wonder if many Americans living in France appreciate the dates being so close together to sort of replace what they are missing from home.

So...my impression of this "first"?  A bit quieter than its US counterpart.  No complaints here though.  I decided to treat Audrey to her first fireworks display (despite the fact that it didn't start until 11pm!).  Cotton candy ("barbe à papa" in French) gave her a nice sugar rush that literally had her running in circles for a good half hour before the fireworks began.  And then the show started...she was enamored!  The most incredible thing she has seen in her three and a half years.  Okay, that's what I thought her reaction would be.  What really happened?  She sat on my lap with her hands over her ears for the entire 20 minutes, paralyzed with fear.  Half way through, on the verge of tears, she says she's done and wants to go home. I was able to get her to stay through the rest but it was hard to enjoy it knowing that she was scared.  Maybe firsts aren't all they're cracked up to be.  I guess we'll stick around for another year to give it a second shot...

 

Flamenco with a French touch

Not long after I arrived, I decided that it would be a good idea to find some sort of ongoing activity to help make France feel more like home.  I have always wanted to learn Flamenco dancing so I signed up for a weekly class that started last September.  I mean what better place to learn Flamenco than here in France where it all originated!  (Okay - I might be one country off but at least I'm on the right continent!)  Anyway, it turns out that its a little harder than I was thinking.  I thought that my dancing skills acquired during my Latin American travels would work in my favor. Unfortunately, a decent merengue and passing salsa moves wouldn't help me much after all.

Then, a couple months in, I hear about the big show in June where we will be dancing - on a stage, in front of people.  As it is, I am having trouble getting the moves down and with the class conducted all in French (I mean who would have thought) I feel like I've gotten myself in over my head.  There were a more than a couple nights when I arrived home and on the verge of tears told Jean I was done.  I just wasn't getting it.  But I stuck in there.  I practiced for hours on end at home (which served the dual purpose of getting the moves down as well as making Audrey and Thomas chuckle).

The day of the show arrived and I actually felt ready.  While I cannot brag about being the most graceful of dancers, I had the steps down.  Walking off that stage I felt so incredibly proud of what I had achieved. I remember thinking that this experience mirrors the greater overall challenge of adapting to life in France.  With hard work and perseverance, I can pull this off too.

Now if someone can just explain to me why I keep getting strange looks running errands in my flamenco skirt and shoes...