A young man recently returned from a family holiday in south-west France says that farmers who raise ducks and geese create industries around their produce. At each bend of the road in his area he came across signs inviting the passer-by to visit family-run museums and exhibitions which celebrate the science of food conservation. Others, specialising in foie gras, offer demonstrations of le gavage - i.e. stuffing food down the gullets of the birds (not for the fainthearted), though the producers insist that the fowl are free-range, apart from twice-daily force-feeding for the last three weeks of their lives, and are happier than their battery-raised cousins. (So?) The end result can be seen at the morning markets in each town and village in the area: foie gras which comes sous vide, or vacuum-packed, in jars or in tins; raw, partially cooked or cooked; whole, in chunks, or reconstitued as a bloc or mousse.
And then there is the magret or breast of the fattened duck; carcases are sold for the stock-pot, hearts at 50p a piece and gizzards for the famous Salade Landais i.e. from the Landes region not too far away. Even the feathers are turned to profit: for bedding, of course, and then also, he tells us, the goose quills are used for writing demonstrations in local museums. Elsewhere in the market, old women congregate on benches, he writes, with a clutch of dozing hens at their feet - the easy manner of the birds suggesting that they are regular visitors and always manage to return home safely. Also at the market at this time of year is the new season's pink garlic, beautifully plaited into tresses which will last well into the spring.
As the locally grown courgettes and tomatoes pass their peak - a matter of opinion - gourmands of both the local and visiting variety look forward to the autumnal offerings of fungi - the sturdy cepe or porcini, which, he says, will appear after four or five days of rain. France for food and nature study. Y