On the way to Tractomania I saw this pile of red stuff the other day. It looked like road grit awaiting the winter snows..
...but it was covered in pigeons
Curiosity got the better of me as usual so I went to have a
closer look.
A billion tonnes of stripped corn cobs. They grow massive quantities of corn on the cob in France, and then feed it to cattle.
This is not to be confused with Meryl Streep's Corn on the Cobb in Lyme Regis.
[Please stop this gratuitous French connection - Ed.]
OK.
It reminded me of a trip back to UK, I had some time to kill in Dieppe waiting for a ferry and drove around looking for something to quell the boredom. There was another pile of pink stuff.
It reminded me of a trip back to UK, I had some time to kill in Dieppe waiting for a ferry and drove around looking for something to quell the boredom. There was another pile of pink stuff.
It turned out to be a mountain of empty scallop shells having been relieved of their edible part and now waiting to be ground up into fertiliser, or possibly road grit. I didn't hang around for long as this pile of very old seafood was more than a little stinky.
I was struck by this connection with the Chicken Ranch as our village is on the Chemin St Jaques. Each summer we are invaded by pilgrims making their way to Santiago de Compostella in Spain. They invariably wear a Coquilles St Jacques which is French for cheap ashtray. They wear it to show they are on a mission from God.
The edible bit is known at the Noix de St Jaques. Our local pizzeria has a menu in English where this item appears as 'St Jack's Nuts'. How we laughed (the first time). Of course St Jaques and Santiago are the French and Spanish names for St James, so double-bong to the purveyors of pizza.
Nonetheless, the pizza is fine and the wine is cheap, so tuck in.
"For what we are about to receive..."