Finally, our timing works to enjoy one of the best aspects of French country life – market day! Beaune’s is a particularly good one, with a wonderful array of produce. The only challenge is exerting some level of control to not buy everything in sight.
In addition to the open air fruit/vegetable section, there’s also an undercover area for dairy and meat.The cheese…oh my goodness. The range extraordinary, the prices, low enough make an Australian weep. I can’t resist a Brilliant Savarin, a chevre brie and a truffled semi hard cheese. I thought I did well to stop there. Himself can’t resist an aged Comte later though.
Laden with goodies we prepare to trundle home but are stopped in our tracks by another French institution, the French flea market, long acknowledged as places of hidden treasure. It’s more than I’m capable of to walk past one.And just as well. Set out on display are two sets of copper pans. One a modern lightweight, the other, old school, the real deal, hallmarked, incredibly heavy and in excellent condition. Himself accepts his fate and goes in for the negotiation. It might have only taken 40 years, but my friends, I’m the proud owner of my much longed for copper. It’s fair to say I skip home, utterly delighted.
Getting them home to Australia is another matter… but I will, somehow. I can’t wait to cook with them. 🥰🥰🥰.The afternoon sees us bound for the Les Plus Beaux Village of Chateauneuf, home to the chateau of the same name. Set on the Burgundy Canal, the village started as a fortress in the 12th century, protecting the road from Dijon to Autun.The village is home to merchant houses from the 14th – 16th centuries,
decorated with turrets and ornamental finishes. A fine example is in the chateau’s courtyard, the white stone Maison Blondeau.
We wander the village streets for a while then tour the chateau.
It’s an interesting mix of fortification and grand home, clearly built in a time when strength was foremost in design considerations.
Set as high as it is, the chateau offers wonderful views across the Auxois hills.
We don’t get much further today, settling by the Burgundy Canal. Its still reflective surface keeps me entertained for what’s left of the light.