Still Life Gourmet

Mighty mysterious trees stretched as if eagles' wings, swaying branches over the rumbling surf, which sharpens and sharpens the rocks. Rheumatic gnarled trunks in clearings among thickets of menacing look to the sky. Green cover looks so heavy that it seems the rock caved in from such burden. And covered with thickets of the plateau above the cliffs reminiscent of the Hanging Gardens. When the sea retreats, the bottom, under the cliffs, exposed pierced yellow rocks with cracks, crevices, caves. White sand dissect, stretching far out to sea, though the claws of ancient monsters, gray-green, rounded waves of rock ledges, fringed with crabs and mussels. In the rocky promontories like cut gates, through which are seen more and more new versions of the dramatic landscape. I often go into bays Running Mail writing, adapting their sessions to the low tide. Sometimes I am in luck: I found a fishing boat near the shore. In the shadow of mighty trees pleases the eye with a clean blue color of the body over which raised the red and yellow sails. Small boat with a high stern bold approach to the shore, not fearing the skerries and reefs. Although the village Running Mail close, here have not yet invade tourists. However, not so easy to get into these places. Through the dense forest of tangled curls, blocks the thickets of the path. On the glades - a true Breton village. Stone wells are decorated with ornaments at the entrance to the house of the mountain is manure, windows scarce. Romance and sewage nearby. Fragrant rose bushes are arguing over places with manure. It is difficult to determine the original color of local cows and goats; clean well water is used explicitly only for drinking. From domestic animals only strong Breton horses can not complain about the care. They are known for their stamina and eat little. Say, of all breeds only Breton horse safely survived, when Napoleon's army retreating from Moscow ... Grim bays Running Mail in sharp contrast bright, lively mouth of the River Odet a few dozen kilometers away, in Benaud. Scurry back and forth the whole flotilla of sailing boats. Between Benaud and Kimperom, "capital" of Cornwall, go to pleasure boats. Odet River is navigable up to the Kimpera in this way it just turns sharply between steep banks. One such turning once scared the detachment of Spanish ships, which was going to grab Kimper, they turned back. Now this place is called "Spanish source: the Spaniards, before coming back here stocked with drinking water. For Brittany is very characteristic of provincialism. Each county is living his life closed. In the neighboring county of people come as tourists, for this case is put on national costumes. District Pont Labbe - the only one in the whole of Brittany, where women wear tall white cap "bigudenkuafe. Oddly, the original cap has changed over the past generation. He previously was high, but over the years has grown so that young girls now wear bonnets up to half a meter. These white buildings are put on throughout the skeleton, lying on top and a ribbon tied under the chin. Behind the ears of her cap down broad ribbon tied on the one hand a bow, and get to the shoulder. Headgear for weekdays and holidays is the same, the very same suit, of course, in the solemn days of the more colorful everyday clothing. On Sunday, the girls were black, richly embroidered dresses - on his chest a "shell" of yellow or orange, below a broad white apron with large fiery-red flowers. When Breton culture (here played a significant role the First World War) was erased, patriotic Bretons alerted and began to revive old traditions. Wherever lived Breton appeared Breton clubs, and even in New York has one, which annually elects the "Duchess Anna." Urgent appeared orchestras bagpipes. In 1939 he left only sixty-three people who play the bagpipes, now they are two thousand. Girls are in everyday wear folk costumes. Renaissance also touched on the Breton language. It was introduced in the school; in Rennes there is even a department of the Breton language. Now, half the population of Brittany says on its Celtic language. Pont Labbe - "capital" of the county curlers, and this city became a center of folk costumes. Here go the old men in bowler hats and tight trousers, musicians - pipers and flute player, one can often see the whole "folk" of the procession. And yet, the national costume as a bad sit well with modern society. Pont Labbe - is like a village, suddenly transformed into a city where suddenly at the last moment decided to preserve the rural tradition. I'm going to Pont Labbe on the long steep descent. On the outskirts of the low houses are fairly rare, but further bunch, and now they have surrounded the narrow street on which the old lady wander with their baskets and bundles. Butchers opened in the truest sense of the word - they do not have the front wall. Internal walls lined with tile, marble counters over hang on hooks animal carcasses and sausage. Despite the dry summer, a large indoor market, an abundance of products curlers. Women sit with baskets full of radishes and radish. Lettuce, cauliflower, all kinds of fruits make the whole mountain. I never seen such a ham, as in Brittany: the big, pink, not fat, your choice - boiled or smoked. The taste and quality of local hams are widely known, not without reason Brittany exports its products to Paris and canning factories throughout the country. Particular story deserves cheese shop - small, tight, jam-packed with merchandise. Cheese still lifes cubic form, they are tapered, round, flat, polygonal. Doing here, and Camembert, the famous cheese, which has not yet been able to repeat any one country. Here it is in the chest, with multi-colored labels and a number of loaves kid wrapped in a matte paper, white soft cheese. In short, every imaginable sort, all that can be made from the milk of domestic animals. In echoing the premises of the covered market, with something resembling a train station, with dirty lamps on the ceiling, is all for the Epicurean and Spartan. That fresh ducks, live chickens, which were immediately decapitated, turkeys and other poultry. Many of the things I simply do not know the name, and I could not help recall the words he had heard from a friend when he was in Paris: The French eat all the moving and everything is green.