Marché des Producteurs (Lumberjack).

Every Thursday evening, in July and August, our village is host to a mass evening picnic where locally produced food is on sale, trestle tables and benches are kindly provided, and having a 'good time' is obligatory. We take our own wine, our own knives and forks, and even on occasions our own candelabra.

Above is my highly tanned nearby boulangere, whose husband makes some of the best bread in the world. I bought a whopping great loaf from her, half of which I later forced into the freezer.

And this lovely lady (Marie) is the wife of our current village Mayor. As a day-job she runs a canning business; foie gras, confit, paté, etc (see front of stall). On Thursday evenings she sells barbecued duck breasts; I bought three; one for Lady M, two for me (pig!). I always ask for them 'pas trop cuit' (pink).

And just so we don't catch rickets or scurvy, I also bought a couple of simple salads from these two lovelies.

This was the first of this year's picnics, and providing the weather remains fine we shall return every week. A wonderful evening, and the vittles absolutely delicious .

The price? Well, let's say that my back pocket hardly felt any lighter on leaving, than when I'd arrived.