I had to have a stern word with a pigeon last week; he had left his wife to do all the egg sitting, while he was out and about teasing Java, paddling in the pool, and perching on the horses’ warm backs. Anyone familiar with pigeons knows that it quite clearly states in the pigeon prenup that Monsieur should share the incubation burden. So either Madame is a total pushover, or Monsieur is a bit of a one.
The couple had also been shamefully slapdash in the ‘construction’ (I use the term lightly) of a nest for their brood-to-be. They had garnished a wooden beam five metres from the ground with a couple of dry leaves and a few bits of straw. Luc took pity and supplied them with a wooden wine box full of hay, where the squabs have now hatched and are growing by the day.
Satisfied we had done all we could for the irresponsible pigeons, I made a flying visit to Paris at the beginning of the week to see a thyroid specialist about my rogue thyroid gland. I managed to lock myself in the train bathroom for part of the journey because my slimey, soap-covered hands and inability to turn on the water to rince them, meant that my impotent fingers kept slipping on the door handle. As all restaurants are still shut in France, I nipped into a health food store for something to eat, and ended up inadvertently buying myself baby food (inside/outside temperature changes and my mask caused my glasses to steam up). Plus ça change…
At the hospital the next day, I had to see the radiologist before the thyroid specialist, and I obviously inspired her; she seemed awfully keen to lecture me on my mask and its inadequacies. Neither its size, shape, colour nor material pleased her, and neither did the apparently slapdash way I was wearing it. In the end so I had to say: ‘Madame, your rant is instructive (not!), but I’ve come 800km for an opinion on my thyroid, not my mask’. She was NOT amused and actually told me to ‘shush’. I had forgotten how cantankerous Parisians can be.
It was sad to see Paris so listless with all its bars, restaurants and museums shut. However, Paris by night was still luminous, and I had time for a photo dash.
Luc was very pleased with this meatloaf, which I left for him while I was away. It may be enjoyed hot or cold.
Ingredients (serves six to eight)
2 onions, chopped
2 garlic cloves, crushed
3 carrots, grated
1 courgette, grated
1 red pepper, chopped
3 medium tomatoes, chopped
300g minced beef or lamb
1 tbsp Lee and Perrins sauce
50ml tomato ketchup
200g pre-cooked chickpeas
Sea salt, freshly ground black pepper
Half teaspoon of each: cumin, cayenne pepper or paprika, garam masala
Combine the vegetables, olive oil, meat, beaten eggs, Lee and Perrins sauce and ketchup in a large mixing bowl. Roughly blend the chickpeas and herbs until the mixture forms a lumpy paste (ie not blended too much) and add it to the meat mixture. Add the seasoning, mixing well and spoon the combined mixture into a loaf tin and cook for about an hour and a half in a medium oven (180°C). Leave to sit for ten minutes before slicing.