A family recipe

Still no official word on what the mystery plant may be. Might be reason to come back to Burgundy some spring in the future just to research more!

But... my dad did ask me to pass along his special "anti-skunk" recipe to my amazing in-laws after reading about our faithful hound Kaia's encounter with a skunk earlier this week. I did. And then I realized that since I often post or link to recipes (for things like tarte au chocolat or tortillas, true), maybe someone out there might be helped by my dad's surefire way to get the skunk smell off of a dog.

From the all time skunk trapper of Teller County, Colorado: Mix together one quart of 3% hydrogen peroxide, 1 teaspoon of mild liquid dishwashing detergent and 1/4 cup of baking soda.  Before bathing your pet, put cotton balls in his ears and a drop of mineral oil in each eye to prevent the mixture from irritating the eyes.  Rub the mixture through your pet's coat and brush it through with a soft brush, then rinse well.  You might have to repeat it until the odor is gone, but it really does work.  This is my long time remedy from Heloise.  When a skunk sprays the yard, I use a spray bottle and spray it around and it gets rid of the odor.  Poor Kaia.

Are skunks a problem in France? I can just imagine the conversation with Geraldine and Thomas (who patiently answer all of my random French questions) -- it's sure to be a good one!

In completely non-smelly other news... the kids and I are surviving John's absence for a work trip (we finished day four today -- hooray!), and we couldn't have made it through today without Lauren, Claudia and Penelope (and their parents). I was running low on patience this morning, and had a long list of shopping to do at both the Beaune Saturday market and the regular supermarket to prepare for my mom's visit. The kids do NOT love going to the market with me. They love the carousel there, of course, and John always takes them to it on any market morning. But going from stall to stall while I buy vegetables and cheese and chicken has never been their favorite activity. And with all of the tourists coming to town and the market more crowded than ever, it would have been even less fun.

So Alli kindly offered to have me drop the kids at her place and sent me on my way. What a friend! I had a great market morning -- a few of my favorite vendors passed along little extras today, some breadsticks and a few extra flowers -- and you will be shocked to hear I bought all of my favorite cheeses -- but this time for selfless reasons! My mom and Sharon can't eat gluten -- when I explained that to different vendors they gave a look of recognition (they had clearly heard of a gluten allergy) and then all of them, every single one, gave the saddest face ever at the thought of being unable to eat French bread. So I figured what they will miss in bread we will make up for in cheese! How very, very noble of me, I know.

The kids had a blast playing with the May girls. Kate and Liv adore anything that the nearly two-year-old Penelope does (and Penelope loves having them as adoring fans). Jack, Lauren and Claudia traded a few Pokemon cards while they were at it. And when I returned with my final haul, all the kids (and moms) walked back to town to get an ice cream cone -- a perfect end to a day that could have been so stressful and frustrating for all four of us. I did get a bit misty as we walked and I watched Lauren hold Kate and Liv's hands, and Jack take Penelope's while talking to Claudia... because it is clear how lucky we are to have such good friends, and how sad we are to be getting to a point where we can count down how many more market mornings we'll have. That's just not something I want to think about too much.

So... to avoid any more weepy eyes, I'll just say the kids and I returned and started getting ready for Mom and Sharon. John will pick up them up tomorrow night in Lyon after having made a whirlwind trip to Paris and Barcelona (again, I am struck by how much cooler than sounds than making a whirlwind trip to, say, Calgary and Winnipeg). And hopefully, at this time tomorrow night, I'll be saying bienvenue maman!

A plant update, but more importantly, while we're here, my in-laws are...

...trying to get the skunk smell off of our dog. Yes, I think we got the better end of THAT deal.

I woke up this morning to this email from my father-in-law, sent in reply to yesterday's blog about the mysterious plant.

Did it have a skunky smell? 4:00 am in the morning and Judy, forgetting possible skunks in the early morning darkness, complies and lets you know who outside. Many many many hours later and after spraying her with Skunk-Off and giving her a bubble bath outside with dog and cat shampoo she has been once again allowed into the house......She acted like she has never had a bath?? She shivered and tried to escape but I kept her in our outside bathing container and although she envisioned biting me with glee, she chose to take another path and let it happen. All three of us had minor and major roles in this adventure and we all thought about you guys (well, at least I did)....

Poor Jay. Poor Judy. And (I suppose), poor Kaia, the smelly dog, who hates baths and has only had two in her more than 12 year long life (she's rather cat like in that way).

I am just wondering how much Aligoté we'll have to bring back to make this up to them? Just what is the appropriate gift for someone who has taken care of your skunk-sprayed dog? I wonder if Miss Manners has ever contemplated such a question.

In other, less horribly smelly, news, I have a possible lead on the plant mystery, thanks to Liz, a friend of mine here in Burgundy. She emailed this morning with with a few thoughts. She said she will check with her favorite neighbor, an 82-year-old who heads south each winter but who is coming home this week and knows all about local plants, but in the meantime her best guesses are either wild asparagus (aka Ornithogalum pyrenaicum, aka Prussian asparagus, Bath Asparagus (it was once abundant near that city), Pyrenees star of Bethlehem, spiked star of Bethlehem or in French asperge des bois, aspergette, ornithogale des Pyrénées) or wild garlic (aka ail des ours, aka ramsons). Though concerning the latter, she wrote she has "yet to meet a Burgundian who shares my fondness for this and to plunge it in boiling water would be an outrage."

She included this link which included this interesting tidbit (for those of us who are always on the lookout for wild boar):
  
Ramsons (Allium ursinum) (also known as buckrams, wild garlic, broad-leaved garlic, wood garlic, sremuš or bear's garlic) is a wild relative of chives. The Latin name owes to the brown bear's taste for the bulbs and habit of digging up the ground to get at them; they are also a favorite of wild boar.

The photo on the left of ramsons has leaves that looked very much like the leaves the man pulled out of his pocket. And I certainly understand getting excited about garlic! But... why would he be boiling them? Garlic tea? Soup?

Liz did warn "if you do go looking for wild garlic remember to check for the distinctive flowers, as the leaves are very similar to lily of the valley which is poisonous." As for the boiling... I could almost see her shrug her shoulders as she wrote that "the French don't always deserve their reputation for knowing exactly what to do in the kitchen." And she thinks I would have been about to smell it (she said when you walk through a wood where they grow in profusion it can be quite overpowering).

Ah, the mystery continues.

And just for the record... to Jay and Judy, I am really sorry about that skunk. We'll make it up to you somehow.

Again with the language woes

So, the girls and I took a walk toward Magny-les-Villers this afternoon, wearing short-sleeve shirts and smiles. On the way we passed a lovely older French man walking his dog. After admiring the dog, and talking about the weather, he asked me if we happened to be heading east on our walk.

Why yes, I told him. That's right where we are heading.

His eyes got big and intense, and he told me with great urgency that I would be able to find...something...there.

I had no idea what he was talking about. His intensity made me briefly think it might be the wild boar we've heard can be found in this region, or maybe some roving bandits, or even a wasp's nest or two.

So I asked him to explain, and he said the word... which I had never heard... again. Same excitement. Same intensity.

I looked confused.

Then he pulled something out of his pocket, sure I would be thrilled with what he had.

Again... nothing. It was some kind of plant. I have never seen it before. I leaned forward to smell it (and the jump back he gave made me think this was not the right move). He looked quite disappointed at my lack of appreciation, and said he was heading right home to boil some water and... do something... with it.

ARGH.

Not only do I have huge vocabulary gaps... but I suffered from a double blow of being completely ignorant in all langauges when it comes to plants. For the rest of our walk, I kept picturing the nice old man telling his friends he met this foreigner today who didn't even know what... something... was. Can you believe it?