Welcome Guest ( Log In | Register )

IPB
 
Reply to this topicStart new topic
> This Little Piggy
Sekhmet
post Oct 14 09, 05:44
Post #1


Greek
***

Group: Platinum Member
Posts: 743
Joined: 3-February 09
From: Abingdon, Oxfordshire,UK
Member No.: 754
Real Name: Leonora Wyatt
Writer of: Poetry & Prose
Referred By:No one at all



The Little Piggy

In1946, the pride and joy of the village of St Beauregard sur Mere were - the three Destrange sisters,
Not only was each young women possessed of much grace and beauty, but, (and of far greater importance to the hard working, hard headed peasants of St Beauregard), each sister had that quality which any true Frenchman prized above all else

She could cook like an angel!

Their family auberge, 'Le Petit Porcelet', ('The Little Piggy' ) managed by the three demoiselles Destrange had, over a long period, gained a well deserved reputation for its menus of succulent, carefully composed casserole dishes; mostly constructed around the excellent local ingredients of pork, cream, apples and Calvados for which their Normandy region was, justly, famous. Thier tarts,'Tatin' are still, nearly fifty years later, remembered with delight by the old folk.
Of course, most impressed of all, after five long years of war and severe food rationing; were the occasional young British soldiers, passing through St Beauregard on hiking or cycling tours.
There was a dreamlike quality for any solitary young serviceman, finding himself almost engulfed by the three exquisite young women. They whirled about him in a maelstrom of delicious perfumes; at the same time, plying him with flirtatious questions about himself, and any possible girl friends; whilst liberally filling his glass with the heady local wine; and, as a finale', laying before him such dishes as a prince might dream of.
The village prospered. So that when they considered the hearty soups, hors d'overes, feather light tarts and cream-enriched deserts, wafting daily from the kitchens of 'Le Petit Porcelet', the Village was almost totally contented with itself.

Almost – Until …Eventually there were whispers; cautious at first; behind raised hands; and with many a furtive backward glance.
T
he question most concerning these worthy pig farmers was of course - which of them supplied the sisters with the delicious pork they served?
Was it you, Jean Paul? A Gallic shrug. Mais non! Perhaps it is you, M. Toumeragues. You took first prize for your porkers at the County Fair. Another shrug. It's certainly not me! Never! And so on, and so on . . . Could it be possible that the delicious pork served at the auberge - was not local?
'Impossible!' 'Unthinkable!' 'The shame!'
Now; every Wednesday & Saturday afternoon, the sisters liked to close the Auberge, and take off on their black bicycles,
( Each cycle with its string net over the back wheels to protect their floral skirts from the being caught in the wheels.) They laughed and twittered excitedly,like a flock of exotic Birds of Paradise.

It was on these Wednesday afternoons, that the slightly envious women of the village agreed that any …doubtful ... pork purchases must take place. So, after lunch, on the very next Wednesday afternoon, several elderly paysans, dressed in moth-eaten, green hunting camouflage, were to be found, cutting through the red dust in their gullets by knocking back the dark green bottles of rough red vin de table they favoured; and lurking, almost sleeping, innocently, behind the scrubby roadside bushes which lined the only road leading out of the village.
It was an afternoon that they would not easily forget. What a charming sight the young women presented, as they spread their crisp white cloth upon the springy, herb scented grass; and produced from their wicker bicycle baskets, forks and knives, salt and pepper, mayonnaise, and a selection of containers, large and small, each covered by a snowy muslin cover.

[/color]But - who was this, whistling joyfully, as he peddled towards them on his bike? The men nudged each other - Oh-ho! A romantic assignation perhaps? Of course it was! And the watching paysans tapped their noses knowingly. This was the young British soldier who had spent last night at Le Petit Porcelet. So young, so strong and so heroic in his British khaki uniform jacket. The older men felt lust and envy stirring as they watched their village maidens shamelessly flirting with this ... this... outsider.

So, when Solange, the eldest sister produced her gleaming Laguiole filleting knife, and thrust it deep into the young man's ribs, the paysans, were not altogether displeased. Pork butchers to a man, they helped the girls to butcher the carcass into remarkably porky looking joints in double quick time.
Le Petit Porcelet' is still, to this day, open for business in Beauregard sur Mare, and the three sisters, now well into their eighties, still preside over its kitchens. Twenty years ago, they franchised a select range of pork products under the Brand Name 'Le Petit Porcelet'
Why not look out for them in a Delicatessen or High Quality Supermarket near you?

Attached File  The_Sisters_Lestrange__today.jpg ( 41.44K ) Number of downloads: 0


[color="#5a5a5a"]


·······IPB·······

 
+Quote Post  Go to the top of the page
Guest_Ishmael_*
post Nov 20 09, 03:09
Post #2





Guest






Ha! Very nice Leo. The concept of this story is fantastic. There are, however, a few things I ould suggest. Firstly, I'd condense the paragraphs. Once we start heading towards single-sentence lines the whole things starts to look a lot like a fable and personally, as son as I picked up on that element I realised the ending. I'd love to see this presented more as a traditional narrative story with a surprising twist at the end. To achieve this I'd suggest constructing the story from tradition paragraphs an also including more contemporary details so that the reader is immersed in the context of the story. The ending will then have far more impact.
 
+Quote Post  Go to the top of the page
Sekhmet
post Nov 20 09, 03:17
Post #3


Greek
***

Group: Platinum Member
Posts: 743
Joined: 3-February 09
From: Abingdon, Oxfordshire,UK
Member No.: 754
Real Name: Leonora Wyatt
Writer of: Poetry & Prose
Referred By:No one at all



Hi Ishmael - and thanks for braving the deserted corridors of the Short Story section. I see exactly what you mean, and will take another look at the story with your helpful comments in mind - Thanks for reading it!
Leo


·······IPB·······

 
+Quote Post  Go to the top of the page
1 User(s) are reading this topic (1 Guests and 0 Anonymous Users)
0 Members:

Reply to this topicStart new topic

 

RSS Lo-Fi Version Time is now: 29th March 2024 - 07:02




Read our FLYERS - click below



Reference links provided to aid in fine-tuning your writings. ENJOY!

more Quotes
more Art Quotes
Dictionary.com ~ Thesaurus.com

Search:
for
Type in a word below to find its rhymes, synonyms, and more:

Word: