A Walk in the Manure

Question: Where can you find a herd of Salers cows, face cream made from donkey's milk and an exquisite bottle of 1989 Armagnac.

Answer: The annual Paris Salon d'Agriculture.

After six weeks in the States and Australia, I was more than ready to take my yearly leap into la France profonde. G. came home from work early to babysit, so I could sneak out for a few hours to pet the cows and replenish the pantry. I always make this outing with my friend A., who has a special relationship with the cows - she went to the annual Festival de Transhumance last year in deepest darkest Aubrac, which had her birthing cows and participating in beribboned cow parades. If you'd like to go this May, details above.

Walking around with A, I get the feeling that all of France is a village. We stopped at a honey stand, and found that the man had his hives right next to her cows in Aubrac - practicualy down to the very field. We've made friends year to year. I arrived too late to chat with the ancient sausage man with a dirty mind and decaying teeth. Last year, he swore he was retiring, but no - there he was, ready to sell A. her smoked jésu de Morteau (yes, the Jesus of pork products) and invite her out back (once again), to see his "Roman sausage". My only truly urgent errand was a bottle of 1989 Armagnac from Daniel Dubos. (I even cheated a bit last year and tasted a sip with Augustin in my stomach. Why shouldn't he get started on the good stuff?). That and some donkey cream. Allow me to explain: Asinus is a company that makes cosmetics based on "lait d'anesse", which I must admit, has a nicer ring to it than "donkey milk". Their principal marketing tool is Cleopatra - apparently, the famous beauty bathed in it every day. Their body cream is fantastic, and you'll be happy to know that it smells like candied orange peel and not like, well...donkey.On the way to the animal pavillon, we passed through the "Outre Mer" section, where products come in from all the French Islands. We stopped for coconut sorbet, mixed by hand, and a caught up on some gossip.

People and cows (and a great deal of manure) share the aisles. There is often a traffic jam in front of the milking stations. Although the milking is done on the premises, tighter and tighter regulations means they are no longer allowed to sell the raw milk from the Salon cows. (when I went for the first time, 3 years ago, it was still available).

They kicked us out at 7pm - but we got the feeling the party was just getting started. The owners sleep in the halls with the animals, and as we walked out the door, bottles for an aperitif were appearing from under tables and bales of hay.

Back to the kitchen next week. G. is going away on business (which means it's time to fill the freezer) and my Australian editor just sent me a recipe for pumpkin scones (having a bit of a time locating the pumkin puree).