This is a problem we are going to be dealing with.
For now, we address two other items: the mysterious marche gourmand of Wednesday night, and a truffle farm. The gorgeous lunch, the creme de la creme of French villages, and candlelight gardens deserve their own post, also five items seems like too much* for a single day.
Tomorrow's just gonna pile on: we got a flea market, a tire change**, The Sarlat Market, and Cahors to cover, not to mention a birthday party in the Lot. I think we can all agree this content will never see the light of day.
But what we can cover to start: the Marche Gourmand. It turns out this is basically a street food market. All trucks/stalls making hot tasty meats (sorry, veggies) with one token bier stand and some live entertainment:
Pictured here: a 'Burger Perigord' - a duck burger, obvs, because that is where we are. A+ for idea and flavour, C- for Execution, about as easy to eat as a fatty steak on a burger, much gnawing, empty bun and dangling meat-hunk. Tasty meat hunk, sure, but not teeth-tearable like a burger demands. The merguez sausage 'sandwich' was a winner, but BAGUETTES SRLSY
The best part of the whole thing? THE ENTERTAINMENT:
IT WAS AMERICAN COUNTRY LINE DANCING. I recorded a video of it but I'm too Xennial*** to figure out how to upload it from phone to internets so you will just have to imagine how wonderful it was.
Then yesterday morning we went to a truffle farm. The biggest draw - other than finding out More Than Any Human Would Want to Know about Truffles - was obviously the doggos:
Two pros at work. The farmer had one instruction: Pet, Yes, PLAY, NO. Apparently they do not have an off-switch and once you turn on their Play function, no more work. I GET IT, DOGGOS.
Another fun fact: they know the basket Eduard is carrying below means On the Clock. If he takes them for a walk without this basket, it's straight Rompsalot.
He is indicating here something he referred to as the Bonsai Effect: the wider the branches, the wider the roots, the better the odds of a truffle. Look for live oaks spread like this with dead grass beneath (the mycelium spores kill the grass or something something science) which is how you can tell truffles are happening below the soil. Also flies in winter. In December, take a stick, whack leaves, watch for flies. That's how you know where them tasty truffles are (if you don't have a pig or a dog, that is.) Fresh ones smell like beetroot, unless you're a female pig, in which case they smell like male pig sex pheremones.
I learned a lot of good French yesterday.
I don't even know what's happening in this picture. Caption at will.
Good Truffle Doggo
While he was blissed out working, Truffle Doggo Two was all:
I'M A BORDER COLLIE I SEE HORSES TRUFFLES WOT
The best part of the whole tour: when we (the dogs) found a truffle and the farmer's phone began to ring. That is when we knew he was the best. PLAY IT YOUGUYS.
Needless to say, best morning ever. We'll see you soon with photos of Our Favourite Lunch in Perigord, the Cutest Village, and Candlelight Gardens!
Big hugs,
Esssss
*Also I am lazy
**TL;DR: note on our windshield pointing out a 'chip' on the 'sidewell' on the 'offside' of our tire. Given we are driving a UK vehicle in an EU nearside, this alone took ten minutes to decipher. Found it, worried it, replacing it.
***lols, true tho
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