Brown Note Sausage Strikes Again


You can’t see it, but there is a faded Mauviel swoosh scar just to the left of this fresh Mauviel swoosh. Unbelievably, I’ve sizzled in the handle of my favorite Mauviel pot on my forearm for a second time. Brown Note Sausage is to blame. I’m supposed to detail Brown Note Sausage in a later post, but perhaps with all the danger involved, I’ve procrastinated. It’s really simple. Brown the sausage, pull it out, make a sauce with buttah, thyme and onions, stick the sausage back in and put in the oven. After it gets all browny and bubbly, pull it out … this is the tough part … beware! the handle is hot. I know the handle is hot, but for whatever reason ( I’ll blame the children ) I sizzled my forearm. Don’t sizzle your forearm. Someday I’ll write up Brown Note Sausage, but for now, I’ll give you a little inspiration for its name.

The Brown Noise

The dish is actually yummy and doesn’t elicit a similar response to that of the South Park Brown Noise.

She Likes To Cook In Roller Blades


Our little chef found some super grand roller blades left in our rental house by a friend. She’s been rolling around ever since. She’s going through a Ramona Flowers phase. She loves to carry my lovely plates with hot stuff carrying knives so I can practice not freaking out. I have a lot of practice.

She pats her grassfed beef patty dry to avoid boiling the meat and instead give it a nice lardy browning. She likes her burger browned on the outside and red on the inside. A nub of butter, a crack of pepper and it rests while she finishes up the potatoes.


New Zealand Lamb


France has some LOVELY lamb. In these parts of the Southwest, it’s quite pricey. I cook for six, so I don’t cook lamb much. When we’re after grass fed meat, we stick to our own beef.

Every once in awhile, the shops advertise New Zealand Lamb for 6 – 7 Euros a kilo. I’m always too late to grab some. But there they were, three lovely lamb roasts. I bought all of them.


I’ve never done a lamb leg roast, but I’ve roasted my share of meat.

Smothered in

duck fat

Cooked with garlicy friends and thyme sprigs. I did high oven for about fifteen minutes, then lowered to 200 C for another forty minutes. My oven runs high.


Served with roasted pots, buttery asparagus, smothered in gravy and washed down with a lovely Madiran.


See!? and I even managed to take an after photo. Usually I tuck in and forgo the result shot. I do and I do for you.

Norwegian Salmon


To a Seattlite, a sin. To a lady feeding eight in Southwest France, a yummy treat! At eight or ten Euros a kilo, I pick this fat slab of farmed fishy up at the super march. Fry gently in duck fat. Served with slaw, left over rice and some broc-cheese.

K. Gotta flip. Bob appetite.