Deck plants enjoying this fine weather

According to news and weather reports, this past July was the third hottest month of July in France in 100 years. The only two other months of July that were warmer occurred in 1983 (I missed that one, because I moved back to the U.S. in August 1982) and 2006 (that one I remember — CHM was visiting, and he and I toured all around the region).

Who would have predicted such a fine summer after all the rain and gray skies we suffered through in the spring, including June? In fact, we were completely waterlogged for the first five months of 2013, and we thought we might not have a summer at all. I heard on one recent weather report that this summer — July and August combined, and the summer weather continues even now — has landed in the top five in French records-keeping history.

Coleus plants on a window ledge

The plants out on the deck — I can't stop using that term, but I think what we have is not a deck but more exactly a terrace or a balcony — have been having a great summer, especially on the north side of the house. Sort of by chance I put plants out on the north side that love the bright indirect light they get there. (Our high temperature is supposed to approach 90ºF today.)

 This one doesn't mind the morning sun, and it gets shade the rest of the day.

The coleus plants in the pictures here are ones that I got at a plant nursery in May or June of 2012. They grew really well last year on the same window ledge. I brought them in for the winter. They got very leggy but survived. Three months ago I took cuttings and rooted them in water. Those I potted up in long window boxes and placed outside the north-facing living room window. I didn't know whether coleus plants were annuals or not, but it turns out that they over-winter just fine — indoors.

 Kalanchoe flowers

The kalanchoe plants above are ones that were here when we moved into this house 10 years ago. The previous owner left them behind, in pots. I've worked with them all this time, repotting them as necessary, and succeeding in getting blooms every summer — some years more, some years less. This year has been moderately successful.

 Zebrina, the inch plant

Finally, the zebrina plant in the photo just above is one that I pinched from a planter box in the town of Luynes on the Loire river west of Tours several summers ago. It was a big plant and was obviously happy outdoors, so I took just one little branch. I coddled it and have turned it into several potted plants — six or seven — of which this one is the best-looking right now. It enjoys being under the summer sky but not in direct sunlight. I've heard it called an "inch plant" — because it grows fast, I guess.

Tandoori chicken on an electric grill

A few years ago, we bought a little electric grill that we could put out on the terrace and cook sausages, steaks, chops, and chicken on. I know it's not charcoal, but quoi l'enfer, as Walt says. A charcoal fire would be too smoky so close to the living room and kitchen.

Actually, what we cooked was half a chicken.

We cook on the electric grill all summer. We even had an electrical outlet installed on a wall out on the terrace just for this purpose. The other day we cooked "tandoori" spiced chicken on the grill and it was excellent. The weather here is still summery, and we are still cooking on the electric grill several times a week.

To go with the chicken, we made some fresh green beans sautéed in garlicky olive oil...

 ...and we finished up some leftover scalloped potatoes from a couple of days earlier.

The electric grill has a pan to catch any dripping fat or juices from the food you're barbecuing. You fill the pan with water before you start cooking. That way, there's no smoke when fat falls in the pan. And the water helps slightly steam the meat or vegetables being grilled. It's a great little grill.

Making our own bread

The bread lady has been on vacation for the past two weeks. She also took two weeks off earlier in August. That means that we have had to fend for ourselves when it comes to bread, rather than depend on her four-times-a-week deliveries.

There are basically three solutions when it comes to bread: (1) get in the car every day and drive five miles or more round-trip to buy fresh bread from one of the local boulangeries; (2) buy several baguettes at a time and put them in the freezer, thawing some for consumption each day; or (3) make your own. I've been doing a combination of all three, but making my own has been the most satisfying.

Besides being better shaped, the loaves (épis) on the right cooked at a higher temperature and have a more pleasing color.

All four loaves were made with 400 grams of all-purpose flour and 100 grams of oat flour.

I'm pretty pleased with the result. I use a stand mixer (a Kitchenaid) to mix and knead the dough. I bake the loaves of bread on a pizza stone in the oven. Here is the ingredient list for three to four small loaves:

400 grams of all-purpose flour (French type 55)

100 grams of some other flour (corn meal, oat flour, rye flour)

1 package (5 grams) of active dry yeast

1 teaspoon of salt

1 teaspoon of honey

about 1 cup of warm water

Those proportions have been working really well for me. The amount of water is approximate. The only way to judge the precise amount is by feel. Put all the dry ingredients — flours, salt, yeast — in the mixer bowl and stir them together well. Then slowly pour in the warm water, with the honey dissolved in it, as the mixer turns the ingredients until a ball of dough forms and feels not too sticky to the touch. The mixer kneads the dough for 10 minutes, and then I knead it by hand on a work surface for two or three minutes before I put it into a bowl to let it rise.

These two fat loaves were made with 400 grams of all-purpose flour and 100 grams of corn meal.

Cover the bowl containing the dough ball with plastic wrap and then with a couple of kitchen towels to protect it from air currents and to keep the dough ball warm. It will double in size (volume) after an hour to 90 minutes of rising.

At that point, take the dough out of the bowl, using a pastry scraper if needed, and shape it into a loaves or boules as you want (make sure they'll fit on the pizza stone). Flour the work surface and the loaves lightly, and let the dough rise a second time. Score the tops of the loaves with a very sharp knife or a razor blade. I've found that letting the loaves rise on a floured wooden board for about an hour works well, and then it's easy to slide them off the board onto the hot pizza stone.

 This one's a couronne or crown of pain aux céréales (grains and seeds in the flour).

I've also found that cooking the bread at 250ºC works best — that's 480ºF. Lower temperatures don't give as good a result. It's important, also, to humidify the oven by pouring a cup or so of hot water into a shallow pan placed under the pizza stone near the floor of the oven. The steam produced gives the bread a nice crispy or crunchy crust, along with a tender moist crumb or mie. It takes about twenty minutes to cook small loaves. Then they need to cool on a rack before you cut and eat them.

As I said, this has been working really well for us during the bread lady's time off. I'll almost miss making bread when she resumes making her rounds tomorrow morning. But then, the professionally made bread is really good too...

Back to the future

I feel like I've been in Paris — at least this blog has — for quite a long time. But Paris is my past, I believe. My future is in Saint-Aignan, or in some other town or small city in the French provinces, if we ever decide to leave this house and Saint-Aignan behind.

The vines and the mile-long gravel road that runs through them.

Small tomatoes ripening

So I'm back to where my future is. It is September and the rentrée in France, after all. People are going back to school or back to work. Here, the tomatoes and grapes are starting to ripen. There's a plot of ground that managed to get completely overgrown during the summer, and I have started clearing it so that I can till it and plant some things for an autumn harvest. We have wood to cut and stack in preparation for fall and winter.

What's been digging in the tomato patch?

Friday afternoon, when we got back from our short trip to southern Touraine (an hour south and west of Saint-Aignan) and the excitement of the Tours suburbs, Walt went out to inspect the tomatoes and the rest of the garden. He discovered that some animal had been digging out there in our absence.

A good half a dozen of the tomato plants had had their roots exposed by something digging in the soil around their base. What animal would do that, I wonder? Was it looking for grubs and worms? Luckily the plants weren't uprooted, and they seem to be doing fine since Walt put some dirt back over the roots and watered the ground a little.

Red-wine grapes...

Friday afternoon, we were paid a visit by one of the vignerons who has parcels of vines out along the gravel road through the vineyard. He's a man who works out there year-round, and he usually is accompanied by two or three dogs. Since we walk Callie in the vineyard every day, we and all the dogs know each other.

...and white-wine grapes are really ripening now.

The vigneron's name is Bruno. He told us that a car had run off the gravel road and plowed into one of his parcels, taking out vines in four rows, including posts and support wires. He lost a dozen or more plants — the posts and vine trunks kept the car from going farther and doing more damage.

I don't think the driver was skidding when the car crashed into the vines.

Bruno wanted to know if we had seen anything out of the ordinary. He said the accident happened Thursday afternoon. He figured the car was probably not driveable afterwards and that there must have been a towtruck or some other vehicle to haul it away. He found some pieces of the car's plastic bumper on the ground, but that was all.

It's time to start making apple jelly and apple tarts.

"I thought you might have seen something during your walk with the dog," Bruno said. We told him that we had been out of town Thursday afternoon and hadn't gotten back more than three hours before his visit. We had seen nothing. I don't know why he thinks the accident happened during the afternoon hours. It would seem to be something that might happen during the night — somebody drinking and driving, in other words, or who fell asleep at the wheel.

I seem to spend several days every year clearing weeds and brambles out of this corner, under the plum tree.

Very few cars use the gravel road through the vineyard. I hardly ever do; nor do our neighbors. Mainly, what traffic there is on the road consists of tractors and the vehicles of the workers and vignerons who tend the vines. A few times a month, we'll see a car drive through — some going pretty fast. In this case, there's no sign from the tire tracks the car left on the ground that the driver applied the brakes before crashing into the vines.