Showing posts with label france. Show all posts
Showing posts with label france. Show all posts

Friday, 13 September 2013

Wild Boar Hunting: A Bit Close For Comfort?


Once he starts paying attention, he really gets it together.
I wonder if he'd worn the Kepi Blanc?
SBW

PS 'Seasons' publish a french hunting  DVD  full of wild and wacky french hunting exploits,
worth a look if you're over there

Tuesday, 31 August 2010

Eating Ortolan



Here's one from the 'Wouldya! Couldya?' files. It seems there is an innocuous little song bird (25g-just less than an ounce), called the Ortolan that makes its way across the Landes region,to the south of Bordeaux on its way to winter with the Hippo in africa. As yer do.


Here's the strange bit, Not only is this little fella considered a delicacy, but it's eaten guts, feathers an' all and served on fire - yep a la Tweedy-pie and Sylvester. Gizzards, testicles, Goofy Girls cooking, I like to think of myself as an adventurous eater. But I'm not sure if I could!


As this takes place in France there are a few ritual elements to consider - you're supposed to eat them with a napkin over your head. Strange yes, but that's not the only part. they are trapped in nets, then kept tin the dark for a month being fattened up on grain, and then drowned in armagnac. Classy.




Trapping the Ortolan has been illegal in France for ages, an this is supposed to be the zero tollerance year, but being an activity that's only practised in the depths of the countryside by a dwindling band (you wouldn't have to ask why) of old people it's not usually considered for prosecution.


'François Simon, a restaurant critic for Le Figaro, has tried ortolans on several occasions. "It's absolutely delicious: rather crunchy, with the texture and flavour of hazelnuts,"'

EDIT Thanks to Hubert some background is here in a story from '97
Your Pal
SBW

Wednesday, 2 September 2009

In France Hunting Pr0n


The chef, writer , and wag Anthony Bourdain once said that you could tell a lot about a country by the food it eats and the pr0n it makes. I'd like to add to that list. Hunting magazines are also a window into the national physic. If anyone ever asks me if i'd like anything brought home I tell them 'Hunting mags and dried pork products'.

I love hunting magazines for several reasons: the adventure stories, the kit reviews (because as regular readers will know I'm a sad kit-tart), and then there's the shameless dichotomy between the editorial standpoints of 'guardians of a noble tradition, champions of the simple life' and sell 'em a gadget to get the advertisers in'. Love it!

While manly hunters mock girly fashion magazines they miss the point that the two genre's have grown out of a common desire - to sell advertising space.

First hemlines will rise, then they will fall, _____ will be the new black, the first lady will first be elegant, then too thin, then too fat, before being found to have the dress sense of a cockney builder and the hair of a fishwife. Products and advice in next months issue will rectify these and other concerns.

Meanwhile: Camo will be photo realistic and change seasonaly, last years 'fleece technology' wont cut it this year, chokes will tighten, then be unnecessary, shotguns will get lighter, then they'll get heavier to soak up 'felt recoil', fleece will be out - wool back in, you like your .270? Have you considered a .280 yet? Here's a _____ made better by the addition of some photos of leaves. Products and advice in next months issue will rectify these and other concerns.

In short if there's a chance of selling a double page spread to an advertiser, X will be the new Y and no one will ever know how we managed without it [for all these thousands of years].

Here's a round up of what I learned reading french hunting magazines by the pool


This year
  • Could be THE year!!!!!!
  • Ammo's a helluva price these days
  • Barrels will be a little shorter
  • Cartridges a little larger
  • Blaze orange is the must have colour of the season.
  • Scent suppressing clothing is to be mocked.
  • Knives are getting longer again and some come with a take down spear handle.
  • Custom rifles aren't selling, as off-the -shelf now offers what was until recently not-at-any-price accuracy for a lot less cash.
  • Take down rifles are the next big thing - convenient for the hunter to transport - convenient for the manufacturer to sell you another barrel for next year's cartridge.
  • American rifles offer fantastic value for money, but if you had the cash you'd go german wouldn't you?
  • Czech is somewhere in between.
  • Tikka are so good for the money what's the point of SAKO?
If your hunting magazine is offering you any more please let us know.
Your Pal
SBW

PS we're all waiting impatiently for Alberts review of english hunting magazines.
It's only been a year or so since I sent them to him.



Monday, 31 August 2009

Hunting The Real France

Last time I was in france I left just before the season started (Aug 15th) and i reported on the European hunting tradition known as Battue - where whole villages hunt and feast together in a cooperative effort. This time I was a little nearer the mark, and I left only a couple of days after the season began. Bah!

I met these chaps by the side of the road one morning while I was cycling through vineyards and fields of sunflowers on my way to the bread shop - freshly made bread every day is still an article of faith in france. A proof that the modern world can be held at bay by sticking to your guns.

I may speak very little French but reading a couple of hunting mags had given me a start. I wont attempt to recreate my attempts to escape my shocking monoglotism in print, but it went something like this:

SBW: Good morning Gentlemen
Wotcha sunshine
SBW: I see you are hunting, how goes it?
We're chillin'
SBW: Where's the line? The beaters?
Boff. They're miles off
SBW: What are you Hunting today?
Boar, Deer, and if the Fox passes he's getting one too
SBW: When did you start?
Well yesterday was the 15th, so we had a big dinner to wish the season well...

It's been a while since I was last in France, and I still come away thinking; 'you've got to admire anyone who really doesn't care what anyone thinks about them'. The french are in equal parts authoritarian and freewheeling which creates some bemusing contrasts.

They do rude and stuck up every bit as well as the english. The look of horror on a middle aged middle class french persons face as our unruly kids trample on their sensibilities is worth the price of admission alone. However they don't temper stuck up and rude in the way english people do. They just don't seem to do 'self deprecating'. Any country where people feel the need to start a society to keep foreign words from getting into the language needs to learn to laugh at its self, and any country where such a society is taken even remotely seriously by publishers and politicians needs to get used to the sound of us laughing at them.

For all their uptightness they're also so good at sticking together against the sates interferences that they remind me of the USA's founding fathers.
Tax hike? Close the roads.
Change to working practices? Shut the ports.
Shorter lunch break? Is nothing sacred!!!! Set fire to the mayors office.
In france you can't really be a national hero with out having been to jail for deifying the courts.

As a nation the passion they show for a proper meal during the day is nothing short of magnificent. In my book if you were going to take something seriously, lunch would be a good choice. It's not a myth, you really can find restaurants that have closed for lunch. I find it quite appealing, that and the grub.

Your pal
SBW

Sunday, 2 September 2007

The Opinel – Another Kind Of French Whackin’


Earlier this week BoB (Brother of Bushwacker) passed by the house on his way down under. Amongst the other goodies he brought me were a twenty-year-old stash of Opinels from our childhood bushcraft adventures.

They really are fantastic knives. The design so simple, the edge so keen, the price so low!

The Carbon steel blade
A 20º edge, holds an edge well, and as the scar on my index finger testifies, cuts into flesh and even bone very well.

The Lock
Simplicity itself, the collar twists to hold the blade open. Could there be a simpler way to lock a knife blade in place?

The Beech Handle
This classic of ergonomic design is probably why New York city’s
Museum of Modern Art have added one to their collection.

The Tapping (or whackin') Point - at the end of the blade/far right of the photo
One of the Opinel tricks that every user comes to know well is tapping the handle to open the knife. When the knife is new, or the air is moist, the handle grips the blade a little tighter and its necessary to give the handle a sharp tap on a hard surface to eject the blade. I just never knew it had a name. ‘Le coup du Savoyard’ is the official name the company gives it.

The Opinel Museum and its website



There are now quite a few ‘special purpose’ Opinels available.
My current favorite is this mushroom hunters knife.


Bushwacker

Friday, 31 August 2007

Those Thirteen Little Words Every Dad Wants To Hear

If you read the discussion boards on the Outdoor and Hunting/Fishing sites you’ll be familiar with the problem so many of us are wrestling with: how can I pass my enthusiasm on to my boy, get him to share in my obsessions?

During our recent adventures in the Languedoc region of France Bushwacker jnr and I wandered down to the bank of the Canal du Midi which connects the Atlantic and Mediterranean coasts of France. While we were feeding the ducks we sat on a drain outlet were rain water (and being France probably other kinds of water) ran into the canal. A four-inch perch (?) swam into view, exposing itself in about three inches of the clear warm water. It looked just like you could reach in and grab it.
My lad kept trying to, and to his frustration Mr Fish kept swimming off.
His frustration built up as Mr Fish kept taunting him by coming back, and swimming off, coming back, and swimming off.
On our third visit he said
“Dad, I don’t care what I have to do, I’m catching that fish”

I know that feeling little dude!
Bushwacker.

Canal du Midi on wikipedia

Friday, 24 August 2007

Battue: French For Bushwacking.


Battue: Whacking (or battering) bushes to flush out game animals.


I’m back, the sojourn to southern France is over and I’ve a few tails to tell you about, some of them fishy and some of them boorish.

But first the bad news; bad news for the boars, the french boar-hunting season gets under way next week and there are more double express rifles heading into the woods than ever stalked the African plains. And it’s bad news for me. I’m a long way from the Languedoc. Bah!

Like most things french, hunting ‘french style’ is very different to the aristocratic traditions of their english neighbours. Airs and graces are unnecessary, as are bespoke red coats and pedigree horses. No one is wearing a necktie. Where (and whether) you went to school is of no consequence. This is hunting ‘come as you are’. In France la chasse (the chase) is a great leveller. It’s for the rich and the poor, its enthusiasts are from the town and the country. The doctor with his exquisite double rifle stands alongside the barman with his great granddaddies under and over. While people with American hunting experience will recognise the camo and the slug guns, the french attitude to health and safety during le Battue will leave you, if not shaken, certainly very glad you brought along that blaze orange vest.

For la chasse there is no need to hang a tree stand and get to it before dawn, in france the hogs and bucks come to you. Every Sunday during the season at 8am, you down a couple of stiff drinks in the village square, then a drive out to the forest. The hunting association for the area will have elected a captain, and he will nominate who takes up position in the line, where the guns stand and wait, usually about fifty yards apart on the edge of the forest, and who runs with the dogs in le Battue or the team of beaters.

The beaters follow the dogs, which like their masters vary in temperament from the highly trained pedigree terrier, to the farmyard mutt. Brambles and bushes must be whacked, spiralling french horns are used for calling and despatching the hounds, with more blasts to signal to the line. This is hunting for the cooking pot. All game is fair game so as boars, rabbits and stags break cover they are turned towards the guns. Some of the beaters are also armed to insure nothing gets away. Chaos reigns. As the beaters near the line, and hopefully no one on the line has been shot this week, the horn blasts to tell the beaters to stop shooting and the line to turn to follow the fleeing prey.
Then its back to the village restaurant for a massive lunch with anything upwards of four courses and lots of wines and spirits before the whole thing begins again.

The season lasts until February – There’s still time to get out there. Wish me luck.

Asterix models

Friday, 20 July 2007

Speaking of France


Harvested (picked?) from a pile of slates in a wooded, but still inner-city (zone 2) garden, these snails were delicious. Kept in a bucket and fed on salad trimmings for five days they purged all the grit accumulated from their natural diet. Then they were fed for two days on white bread. The bread passing through the snails and staying white, tells you the purge is complete.

Boiled, rinsed and boiled again (approx. 10 changes of water) until the slime and froth were gone. Simmered for an hour. Baked in parsley, garlic and butter.
Served with rustic bread.

Bushwacker.