I have bought myself two thick slices of bread and what was meant to be “un po di formaggio per fare un panino” (just a little cheese for in between), but I don’t think the lady behind the counter at the grocery in Lisciano was impressed with my skinny wrists and baggy jeans.Â I came away with about a half a pound of a good solid pecorino wedged between nearly a whole loaf of pane normale, clementines, pears, whole milk yogurt with apricots and ginger and a bottle of water.Â The train leaves from Terontola for Pisa at aÂ little after 2.Â There is a connecting train at Santa Maria Novella station in Florence, and another at Pisa centrale for the airport.Â All I have to say about ryanair calling Pisa airport an airport of Florence is, liar, liar pants on fire.Â It’s like saying there is not much difference between that aiport over there, that you can practically walk to from the duomo, or that one over there that takes trains, buses, a lot of yelling and mule to get to.Â
It would be best if I stopped drinking cappucino to prepare myself.Â One should be calm and have no need of the facilities when travelling.
I have decided to do a deconstructed cassoulet for the first night at chateau des Sablons.Â A saute of onions, celery and carrot, gently caramelized for half an hour and then added to tender white beans, along with pulled duck, tiny handmade sausages from pork shoulder set on top and surrounded by tomato confit.
How did the cassoulet turn out? It sounded delicious.
In my mind it was delicious. I have yet to make it though. I got overwhelmed by all the gorgeousness at the open market in the village and did a the beans with the sauteed carrot, celery and onion in tiny, tiny pieces, and then on top, instead of the meat, I passes garnishes of tomatoes confit, roasted pumpkin wedges (tiny green pumpkins with deep orange flesh) and pan seared wild mushrooms from the mushroom lady. Christmas is coming. If love takes over reason, I’ll make a true cassoulet from beginning to end.