Rustic

My efforts at sourdough since we got back from Spain have verged on the embarrassing. The last one got made into breadcrumbs. The revived starter is fizzing with life, and I'm using recipes that have always worked for me, but every effort turns into a sloppy pool of dough. This one, after a night in the fridge, flopped out of the banneton when I turned it out, and I just had to scrape it into the hot casserole as best I could. It is actually better than it looks, definitely edible.

I've now decided to blame the flour -- I had to replenish my stocks when we returned, and the organic shop had clearly had supply problems, so I bought a different brand from usual as it was all they had. It seemed like it had been badly stored -- it had lots of hard lumps of compacted flour in it, as if it had got damp. So I've been to Lidl to buy some of their very reliable organic flour, and the other flour will be relegated to pastry.

This evening we went to an outdoor musical show in Tourouzelle. No photos as there were too many heads in the way, and anyway the musicians were hopelessly backlit by the setting sun. It was advertised as chanson française, unconventionally played on two semi-dismantled pianos. I found the first few numbers quite boring and definitely not as wacky as I would have liked, though everyone else was wildly enthusiastic. But it did get better towards the end. Small sample here. Also we were most impressed that the grand piano actually folded up for transport; the three musicians started dismantling the set while we were still applauding.

There were, of course, free wine and nibbles afterwards but it had gone on longer than expected and we were a bit cold, so we chose to leave and drop in at the Tira-Tap, once a regular haunt, for the first time in literally years. Good to see Maria again; we settled for a plate of jamón and pan con tomate, with a glass of wine, and then a bit of what was described as pavlova but was actually Eton Mess. We'll be back for a proper meal soon!