I'm sat here in a very nice burgundy house (we are visiting Anke's family here again), having just eaten a Italian Indian cross over meal (Barbequed Chicken Marinated in cloves, balsamic vinegar (Modena), and fennel, presented on a curry sauce (mainly ginger, coriander and ginger), ratatouille, onion bahjees , samosa and served with basmati rice, all washed down with a rather surprising good and cheap premier cotes de Bordeaux, L'Orangerie de Carignan. What was an added bonus the kids also gobbled it down in record time after hard day bike riding walking and playing in the garden, Mind you Owain sustained a rather nasty grazed knee on the walk and so was a little clingy and fussy (and it had to happen within the first 3 meters of the walk.!!) Luckily improvised walking sticks, tractors, dead moles and grasshoppers proved to be enough a distraction to convince the newly 4 yr old to walk the last 3/4 ers of the distance (after I carried him sobbing in my ear!) Now I'm here reading through my collection of cook books trying to be inspired what to cook tomorrow, listening to AC/DC on the new iPod - they just seem to fit the moment, once a rocker always one I guess. I cooked by the way listening the Rachmaninov 2nd, when it comes to classical music you cannot match the Russians I feel, like the American blues singers they have a seed of irritation in their bellies to bitch about. Music written when your happy is never as good as that written whilst your suffering. I find in France or Italy in fact, I just browse the cook books and then get inspired in the supremarche the next day. Here we have access to a Carrefour in Macon (the size of an aircraft carrier), and as I found out this morning, an equally good real sized ATAC in Cluny, which is only 20 minutes away. (15 if the kids are not in the car as the windy roads give them car sickness!) If only every country could have the supermarches and it's contents the French have, the quality of the food is excellent as always and the choice just plain bewildering. The scenery here remind me so much of Clwyd back home it's uncanny. Anke's is now at the stage that if I say "Tch just like Wales'' she laughs out loud. I have very limited access to email here - bizarrely i can read it but not reply (Lilia, Anke and I cannot make it on the Ist/2nd or 3rd we are in England for a wedding, pity we would have really liked to to meet up and you could cast you experienced pallet over my ''cross over'' cooking! Pity next time. So I'm quite isolated, I occasionally blog via my PC (for the kids films of course) and then upload it via my phone using SharpMT from Randy Rants on both, but we are missing most of the world events which is fine as I'm sure there is no good news coming out of Israel's heavy handed retaliation in Lebanon. When will all opposing factions in the middle east learn to live peacefully with one another, and when will the west stop interfering and supporting one side or the other non helpful ways. Anyway must finish this and the last drops of the Bordeaux (my book is ironically resting on a Rupert the bear book - such is our life these days) , before setting off for an short evening walk with Anke whilst Beppe (Frisian for Grandmother) minds the sleeping children.