I gave you my rum baba, now what are you going to give me?

I took Roy and Norma to see a village near us, and took a wrong turn into this village, Sauvetat du Dropt, where I only ever stop to eat.  My favourite restaurant in the area is there, Ma Maison.  Anyway, the village is very pretty.

I could live on this door.  Yes, I did say that.  This door has to feature in something I make.  It is the most wonderful door in the world.  Look at the colours and the way they blend in and just look at the old door handle.  I think this house is disused as the rest of the building was in a bad state (yes, unlike the door.  Boy, you lot are so sarcastic!).

 Norma & I wandered off, leaving Roy to rest in the shade (he called it waiting for us!).

 Isn't this a great place to live?  We met the lady who lives in the house and had a bit of a chat with her.  I went to bed dreaming of a house on a small river tributary like this one.  What a view.

 This is Ma Maison.  It is run by an English woman and her French husband.  We arrived as soon as the place opened in the evening so that we could have a cocktail.  We love sitting outside in this courtyard.  Shirley, Louise now lives upstairs.  We are definitely going there next year, right?

This is just the light afters.  The strawberries are in a little mason(?) or canning jar.  This was a popular way to serve food this year.  We also saw soup served in them.

Okay, so strawberries in their own juices.  Chocolate mousse.  Creme brule, a rum baba to die for and a light, refreshing sorbet.  I am desperately trying to remember what the sorbet was - ah yes, pear with something else I think.

Alan is not a dessert person.  Give him pigs entrails and he's as happy as can be, but he is able to see the dessert tray go by, with nary a lustful look.  Anyway, he was so taken with the amazing rum baba, he took my usual spot and negotiated a swop with me.  Whilst my usual method is to try and palm off something I am not so keen on (and after a taster to check that fact) to get something I really want, he offered up the creme brule straight away.  That's what told me the rum baba must be good.

I did taste the rum baba, and I was oh so desperate to eat the whole thing, but it was such a rare occurrence for Alan to beg (for dessert that is!), I gave in with only the smallest whimper of distress.  Okay I rolled around on the floor screaming my eyes out, shouting no, until he reminded me who had the car keys!

Mind you, I used my giving gesture against him all holiday.  "Please buy me that designer handbag for Euros729.  After all, I did give you my rum baba.  You know, that sort of thing!