Turkey Talk!
Categories: life-in-general
Date: 30 October 2013 16:57:50
Cathy wanted to buy some foie gras to take back to the UK, and several people recommended this place,which isn't too far from us.
Mr D already knew it, as he told us that a few weeks ago he'd been out with the cycle club and Mariss (Maurice?) had a puncture just outside the farm. As they waited for him to mend it, they noticed that gradually the free ranging turkeys drifted across the field towards them, until all the turkeys were all lined up at the fence, watching what they weredoing and gobbling gently amongst themselves
So this afternoon, because I didn't have any lessons, I offered to go with Cathy to hunt for Foie Gras Fermier. We arrived at the farm, and - just like for Mr D & his Cyclo Chums - the turkeys were all lined up at the fence, watching the world go by. As we got out of the car, they started gobbling away, like nothing so much as a pan of simmering water. We were met by the farmer himself, who took us to his shop and opened up specially for us. Unfortunately there was no foie gras on offer to deguster, but he offered advice on what to buy. Cathy finally bought a 200g jar of foie gras for her friend; I was tempted to buy some stuff, but decided to wait until our freezer is a little emptier than it is!!
I know foie gras is an emotive subject, and that many people won't eat it, as they believe it is cruel. Certainly, looking at this farm, and the happy free range turkeys and geese, I am sure that the geese are kept well. I don't have a problem with foie gras myself, but certainly would prefer to pay more from a free range producer, such as this guy
than pay a low, low price in Carrefour or Lidl forsomething that is probably battery produced. All the meat on sale is from "happy animals" and I think that I will be going there for our Christmas treats.
After making our purchase we went for a stroll around the little village of Pommiers
There is an ancient priory there, with some little winding streets. In the chill of an autumn afternoon, with the houses shuttered for the winter, there was quite a melancholy feel about the village. In the gravelled square crisp brown leaves were skittering across the space, and gathering in the corners between the cobblestones. There was an almost unbroken silence. It wasn't the jolly jaunt I had imagined - but somehow it suited the early evening light. I did wish there had been a cosy little bar open, with lights shining out, where we could have had a coffee or a kir, but there wasn't; there was only a battered sign indicating where a café had once been, but was no longer. So we hurried back to the car and came home - to a cup of fruit tea!