Edwina is not Made of Chocolate
They thought they were made of chocolate and they would melt in the rain.
--Madame Boutin (referring to the handful of our group who shuttled back to avoid the rain)
Edwina’s ride may be smooth as butter, but according to Madam Boutin, definitely not chocolate. Edwina took the rain in stride and delivered me back to Auberge Harris with nary a whimper. Another round of chain lube and off she went to the auberge’s bike corral. Once again, the weather forecast was right on…they claimed 30% chance of rain. We had sun for the morning and part of the afternoon; rain just for the late afternoon….30%. Amazingly accurate, but will it hold?
We headed out today on a crushed limestone trail. Lovely ride across farmland and through small cities with lunch at P. Munier & Fille, a wonderful bakery with an aura of permanence. Given the age of the establishment one wanted to ask if the older woman behind the counter was P Munier or Fille, but alas, our French barely communicated that we wanted two cheese sandwiches. In the end, we happily waited the extra 10 minutes until the bread came out of the four (oven) and were rewarded with a flavorful cheese sandwich on freshly baked bread. Aahhh…..and, of course, a pastry for dessert.
Our afternoon break was a tour of a cidrerie. Recently we re-learned the Johnny Appleseed story--that is, that dear, altruistic Johnny Appleseed was really a drug pusher, not an apple-a-day fruit tree seller. Johnny Appleseed's trees grew from seed. Such trees almost always grow super tart apples. These apples are not good for eating; they're useful only for drinking—and that would be drinking hard cider, not post-prohibition sweet cider. So, having learned about historic cider and having thoroughly enjoyed the extra dry hard cider in Vermont, we were really looking forward to the visit.
Alas, while the tour was informative, from the onset of the tour it was obvious this wasn’t a cider we were going to ooh over. The cidrerie used sweet apples (not Johnny Appleseed’s too tart to eat apples) and they adjusted the cider along the way to make the cider sweeter. Blah. One has to wonder if the market has known cider to be a syrupy sweet beverage for so long that a good, dry cider maker has a tough sell to convince them otherwise.
Dinner: Stone fired pizza with the locals. We were the only English speakers in the very busy restaurant. Unlike a stateside pizza joint, all of the wait staff were short, motherly types, not high school students. Which, given our barely present French was very good thing.