gooey, melty, cheesy deliciousness

For a year now, I have been wanting to take the plunge. A seasonal cheese, the Vacherin Mont d'Or is only available from roughly September to May. It's a mild cow's milk cheese and I had heard from several people that it is a must-try during the chilly winter months. I often walked past the crémeries at different markets and saw this type of cheese, usually labelled "Mont d'Or" being sold to eager customers. It was finally my turn this year to see (well, taste) what all the fuss was about.

This cheese is often served as dessert or even as a main course when it is, like my friend Lucy would say- echoing the brilliance of one MTV show- "pimped out" with shallots or onion, garlic and other herbs and spices. But get this... this soft cheese only becomes even softer and more gooey when you bake it. Yes folks, you insert the fuzz-coated cheese in the oven until its interior is molten and ready for some dipping!

mmm... chocolate...

So, it is no secret chocolate is one of life's most extraordinary pleasures. It is for me anyway. So when my lovely friends gifted me this beautiful creation, I experienced chocolate on an incredibly different level. Not only did the milk, dark, and white chocolate I was eating taste so good, it looked almost too beautiful to touch.

Normally, the aesthetic I subscribe to when it comes to food follows a more rustic sensibility. Big bold, straight-forward flavors, down-home cooking, cozy and filling food. Don't get me wrong, I can deal with small, beautifully and delicately plated culinary masterpieces (as if it was that hard...) though I don't often experience such exquisite culinary beauty. So you can imagine my hesitation when I visit a nice restaurant, look at the plate before me and think that what the chef has so carefully sculpted on the plate could be found on the pages of a glossy coffee-table art book...

I digress...
I won't bore you with more of my thoughts on fine dining. On to the good stuff. Behold the beauty...

What a beautiful little potted flower from Maison Georges Larnicol. It's made of chocolate!
http://www.chocolaterielarnicol.fr/

It took me almost 2 weeks to take apart this dainty little creation. I found the chocolate to be very good!

But I ask myself: Does the chocolate seem to taste better because its appearance is so visually pleasing? Toward the end of what the French would call the "degustation" (the action of tasting food or drink according to wordreference.com) I was picking at the remnants of the pot, which no longer looked like a pot, when I realized the chocolate was actually not delicious. Don't get me wrong, it was extremely good, but it suddenly dawned on me that the chocolate was not as good as I had originally conceived.  So dear reader, here is my last question in this post:  Did the beautiful and almost perfect appearance fool me into thinking it tasted better (and that it almost HAD to taste better)?

Moules Frites

Mussels and Fries. What a lovely combination.

The first time I heard Moules Frites, I thought it meant Fried Mussels... A faulty translation of the word "frites" led me to that conclusion, and therefore I didn't care to have "moules FRITES" I've had fried mussels at home before, and while I love fried foods as much as the next person, they aren't something I'm anxious to eat. If only I had discovered my translation mistake sooner...

Moules Frites are steamed mussels, cooked with various sauces then served next to a bountiful portion of delicious (usually hand-cut) fries. Nothing could be simpler, but more delicious. The most basic of the preparations is called "moules marinères." This means that the mussels are steamed on a bed of shallots, butter, and white wine. Some people add fresh parsely, others a bit of tomato for a bit more flavor or other herbs. Other variations include Moules with a provençal sauce of tomatoe, or even a Roquefort cheese sauce. The variations are endless, and some restaurants can get quite creative with their preparations. The concept stays the same though. A heaping bowl or even pot of mussels is brought to your table, accompanied by a large played of piping hot fries.

According to people whom I asked, and the trusty internet as well, Moules Frites was originally conceived in Belgium, where it continues to be a very popular dish served year round. The North of France has also adopted this dish as a traditional seafood delight of the area, thanks to their close proximity to the ocean. The city of Lille in the Northeast of France is well-known for their take on this dish.

So now I present you my own debate. Restaurant, or homemade?
Judge for yourself:

At "Moules de Bouffay," a very yummy place to get this in the center of Nantes.

And again, but this time with a focus on the "all-you-can-eat'" fries. Don't they look good?

And now, for our homemade version. My friend Mel and I made these. With a little white wine and shallots. Takes 5 minutes to cook! Mel made the fries on the stove top. And of  course, you can't forget the chilled white "Muscadet" wine and the Heinz ketchup. Essential.

The full display. Just enough for two people! 

Málaga

A short bus ride later and Lucy and I were in the beach town of Málaga. Unfortunately, the sub-par weather continued and we were forced to cope with less than ideal beach days. We didn't let that dampen our spirits though, and while it was a little upsetting at first to have made such a long trip for only a few hours of good sun, what are two girls to do? Why, explore the good eats around town, of course! Oh yeah, and we went to a Hammam too, which came highly recommended by the Office of Tourism... very relaxing indeed!

I could write a lot about Malaga, but by the end of our three days there, it was very clear that the one photo... the one moment worth sharing was the infamous (for us at least) "pescadillas."

We had these delightful and friendly looking creatures on our first failed attempt at a beach day. The closer we got to the beach, the more dense the fog became. It was a dark and misty haze descending upon us, too quick to escape from.  True to form, Lucy and I looked for a place to eat. It was a quaint seafood restaurant with white table cloths and friendly servers where we ordered five or six small plates of seafood and a hefty side of yummy potato salad. It all seemed normal enough until four of the cute sounding "pescadillas" came to our table. We were expecting small little flaky fish like the ones at the table next to us. Instead we got this:

AHHHHH! They're biting their own tail fins!

I'll stop right here, the image speaks for itself.

Granada

My adventure continued in the South of Spain. This time, I was accompanied by my good copine (French for friend) Lucy. I was riding high after spending some lovely time in Barcelona and then seeing my beautiful mother and Maria in Madrid. This two-week trip was really the kind of stuff dreams are made of.  Lucy and I took a bus (surprise surprise) out of Madrid to Granada. When we were planning our trip, this seemed entirely brilliant. We would leave Madrid at 10:00PM and arrive in Granada at 7:00AM. We wouldn't have to spend money on accomodation that night, we would sleep soundly on the bus, and have the entire day to explore.

Of course we were wrong. Well, we did leave at night and get to Granada in the morning, but we did NOT sleep soundly on the bus. We arrived in rainy and sleepy Granada at 6 o'clock in the morning to the sounds of trucks splattering water as they drove by and the sight of cold mist which hung in the air and rose up the mountains to the magnificent Alhambra. In addition, my dear Lucy got sick- combination of chilly and wet conditions plus no sleep. Like the trooper that she is, she made it work, and we ended up having a lovely time exploring Granada then Malaga for five days.

We were in Andalucía at the right time of year. Lucy and I were able to experience El Dia de la Cruz, where people decorated their courtyards and public establishments with adorned crosses and flowers. We bought red flowers and peinetas to put in our hair. It was lovely- Olé!

Just stunning craftsmanship

How cute are they!? They were dancing Flamenco !

The food was nothing to ignore. Granada's close proximity to Morocco made it an exciting hub for Arabic culture. This mix of Andalucian Spanish/Mediterranean cuisine and Arabic flavors and culture made for a colorful plate of bursting textures and flavors. The tea-houses, which lined the narrow cobbled roads that spiraled up to meet the majestic Alhambra fortress, were like portals entering into an old Arabian world. Some catered to tourists more than others, but they all had dozens of tea available for tasting at very reasonable prices for the pot. The mint tea was my favorite. We didn't taste any of the pastries, but they all offered bite-sized desserts on large platters. Since it rained a lot while Lucy and I were in Granada (and Malaga for that matter) we often found ourselves seeking refuge in warm tea houses.

 

 
Like I mentioned before, the Tapas in this regions are well-known throughout Spain. Not only are you able to find all sorts of varieties of Tapas at almost any establishment, the quality is superior and the small plates of finger food come out for free with any drink order. This is customary at any bar for example. With every round of drinks (not necessarily alcoholic) the table will receive una tapa. The more drinks you order, the better the tapas get...
Well except for this one, which Lucy and I named the WORST tapa in all of Spain:

It was so awful, we couldn't help but laugh. We ordered a "caña," which is a small glass of white ale beer with or without added citrus flavor, and with the two beers got this beauty of a tapa. Flavorless stale bread and two big RAW lima beans. It wasn't even salted. It was pitiful, but so funny when compared to something like this:

I was very surprised at how reasonable the prices were for any type of food in Spain, but especially in the South. You could get an entire "menu" or formula including an appetizer (entrée), main dish (plat), dessert and a pitcher of the house wine for 12 euros...! not bad at all. Lucy and I had several meals like this... almost all of them included some sort of pork dish... One must love jamon (jam) when in Spain.

Delicious and hearty pork stew with potatoes and carrots.

Braised Chicken, fries... covered in a nice brown sauce. This meal felt very homemade... very hearty and earthy.

For the big Barça vs Madrid game, Lucy and I went to a local tapas bar, and ordered this fried gem. Eggplant drizzled in honey sauce.

Classic Tortilla. One of the many I had on this trip. So thick and rich! I wish I could learn to make tortillas like this. It was topped with a salad drizzled with a house vinaigrette (the perfect tortilla accompaniment!)

Madrid. An amazing capital.

I fell in love with Madrid. You might be wondering why I didn't say the same for Barcelona. I really enjoyed Barcelona, please don't get me wrong... but for me, Madrid was were my culinary affinities were awakened. So much to eat! and so little time. I think it might have been the night life, or the spirit of a truly Spanish city, but I loved my short time here. I met up with my mom and Maria, our amazing friend who was the perfect host.

Tapas.
Little bite-sized portions of food. I got my first taste of real tapas here, and only made me more excited for what I knew was to come during the next leg of my trip to the South of Spain, where tapas originated and are a central part of daily life.

Not only are the people lively and open (and LOUD), their lives are intrinsically linked to what they eat. The first night I was in Madrid, I had arrived via coach bus and I was tired after a twelve hour trip from Barcelona (I wouldn’t quite recommend this mode of transportation but it was cheap and my wallet appreciated it.) It was 9:30 PM and instead of calling it a night, Maria announced that we would sit and eat in the plaza nearest to her apartment building. Okay…fine. I wasn’t about to complain.

She proceeded to order a tortilla, two types of croquetas (perfectly fried bite-sized balls with a semi-solid béchamel-like interior), and three “cañas” which are the Spanish equivalent to small draft beers. Not bad for a Wednesday night.

Not only do people go out to eat a lot later, they take a lot longer to eat too. There is the sense that it is a big communal celebration at each Tapas place/bar you go to. Strangers become fast friends partly due to everyone’s friendly nature but also because these tapas places are so tiny and crowded! 

Olives and delicious wine. Cloud 9. 

Queso Manchego, Pan con tomate (toast rubbed with tomato and garlic and oil), jamon serrano, and more olives!

Segovia

From Madrid, my mom and I took a nice day trip to Segovia for about 12 euros each, round-trip. Not only is Segovia known for the marvel that is its original Roman aqueduct, it is renowned for a culinary specialty known as Cochinillo.

For those of you who have followed my blogs, you might remember my previous one named "My week as a vegan." This entry shows a completely different view on food. It is such a departure from what I usually eat, but as a true lover of food and of trying new things, I ventured in to the world of suckling pig. I'm going to be honest, I don't like the idea of eating a little baby pig- so small and helpless and eaten for its tender meat. The people of Segovia are proud of their tradition of cooking their own variation of suckling pig, generation after generation, with the same attention to detail as their forebearers. They slow cook the animal in special ovens so that the skin is perfectly crispy and the meat so tender it falls off the bone. The sauce that accompanies the cochinillo is made from the flavorful and fatty drippings after hours of broiling. Any native Segovian will tell you that the brilliance of the flavors and texture of the Cochinillo are due to the quality of the ingredients used and the perfect technique. If the Cochinillo is of exceptional quality, there is no need to add garlic or any other spices. This convergence of technical ability and quality products are what you pay for when going to eat at a restaurant serving Cochinillo de Segovia. The french would refer to this as true "savoir faire" (knowing how to do something well.)
                                       
The beautiful restaurant, and my beautiful mom. Casa Vicente, thank you for a lovely meal! They stayed open until we finished our meal even though we were clearly the last ones left from the lunch service. The waiter also thought my mom was my sister... good times.

The Menu. 

The man himself... Vicente. Lookin' good! He was at the restaurant when we ate there, and I noticed he inspected each plate before it left the kitchen which was nice to see. I had a direct view into the kitchen. 

The first course soup. Made of, what else? porc fat chunks. So tender they almost melted in your mouth. The table wine was good too! 

 The "pièce de résistance." When the cochinillo finally came, it looked small, but it packed a punch. The fries were perfectly soaked with the delicious broth making for a perfect pairing, as fries often are.

My mom got two types of Cochinillo- this one was braised and had a smokier flavor. 

my dream

Mon rêve...

To eat here:

http://www.alain-passard.com/

Imagine a restaurant with a chef who focuses on vegetables, the beauty of seasonal picking, and intense and well calculated flavors.

Mercat de la Boqueria

The world famous Mercat de la Boqueria is exactly as magnificent and as huge as it appears on all the trendy travel shows and magazines. This market has become, at least in the mind of tourists and travelers alike, synonymous with the city of Barcelona. Its gated entrance holds the allure of a rustic but well-built food fortress which comes alive every morning, bursting at the seams with such color and vibrancy found only in my imagination until I had the chance to experience La Boqueria for myself. 

Katie and I strolled for about an hour and a half through the linear paths between stands barely able to accommodate the width of two people. Nonetheless, hungry and curious customers shove and squeeze their way from one end to the other thousands of times a day. Let me tell you, it is worth the frustration, and the occasional bodily harm to walk trhough this food paradise. They sell everything here, everything you could dream of cooking- from a Spanish perspective. Multiple vendors compete for the same tourists, and its tough competition for every stand is as appealing as the next. Especially eye-catching are the fruit stands and more specifically, those selling all of those same fruits, but in juice form: simply delicious and fresh. I bought about six different types of juice during my stay, and I could have had more!

While La Boqueria does certainly deliver the spectacle and quality that it has come to be known for, there is no doubt that this market is no longer simply just a market in the city of Barcelona. It is an institution. It is a tourist attraction, but it is also a deeply personal family and city staple. The prices for a lot of products are high, and a lot of vendors now announce sales in English. Though I cannot and will not question its authenticity, La Boqueria does not need to win over anyone. It is what it is, and if you don’t like it, fine. Thousands of other people will continue to flood its narrow and deliciously perfumed couloirs long after we are gone.

http://www.boqueria.info/

Katie and I, like previously mentioned, walked around for an hour, bought fruit, juice, some salad, and cod fritters. Then we headed off to our next stop for the day feeling like we had just witnessed something great. We came back down Las Ramblas at the end of a long day toward our hotel, and noticed La Boqueria was closed for the day. At the end of a busy day, the market shuts down only to appear like a dark and rusty warehouse building until the vendors return to start anew the next morning. Only they are privy to the secret of how to transform, in a matter of hours, such an austere and dark structure into something that seems to be expertly splashed with colors directly from a painter’s palate.  

Salted Cod Fritters, Bunyols de Bacalla

Fresh mango slices for 2 euros... not bad!

I'm back after a little hiatus... rebonjour!

Hello all! So, my last entry was mid June- way too long ago. My sincerest apologies for the long dry spell this blog has gone through. Since I last wrote, I have been in Nantes, then back to Massachusetts for some nice time with loved ones, and then back to Nantes just a couple of days ago for my second year in France. I promise much more these next few months. More exciting food, and more frequent posts. Thanks for reading! And enjoy!


Let’s travel back in time….
(picture you time warping back to late April, early May)……

Are you here with me? GREAT!
The date is Friday April 2, 2011. Andy is about to go on an amazing trip to Spain that has changed her gastronomic palette (and cultural sensibilities as well) forever.
I know this blog has “en France” in its title, but bear with me. I’m about to take you through a culinary trip through Barcelona, Madrid, Segovia, Granada, and Malaga.

So back to the food. My first stop was Barcelona with my friend Katie who was working in Brest, France doing the equivalent of my job here. Neither of us had ever been there so we let our noses and stomachs (well, and her Lonely Planet Traveler’s Companion too) lead us through the city.
Let me share with you some awesome photos of that trip. Catalunya has such a distinct and rich culinary tradition. We tried to make the most of it, but there was just too much to try, and so little time. But rest assured reader, we did thoroughly enjoy the local Cava selection. (Cava is the local alternative to champagne. Cheap, but delicious in taste. Rivaling the best France’s champagne any day, in my humble opinion)

Day 1: Seafood Tapas. This place was a hidden gem. Affordable, and cooking seafood tapas to order. Utterly fresh and delicious, Katie and I enjoyed a multitude of tapas, like Razor clams, shrimp, and octopus- with a bottle of the house chilled white wine. I loved the razor clams. I must confess that because I possess almost no knowledge of Catalán, most of our ordering consisted of vigorous pointing and lots of smiling. In a nutshell, the nice waiters brought us a selection of their choice. We were glad they did.








Like always, I urge you to click on the image for a larger (and more delicious) view of the photo. :)

this would probably not work in France...

Thoughts?

http://www.nytimes.com/2011/06/17/us/17meatless.html?_r=1&nl=todaysheadlines&emc=globaleua210

Baguette à la Provençale

After living in France for a combined period of time totaling about a year, it is rare for me to be so completely taken back by a baguette or other type of bread that I feel I must include it in a food blog. Pain or bread in France is like water and every single town- large, medium, or small WILL have their share of completely fantastic boulangeries with their own variations of the classics. At Boulangerie d’Antan (there are three in Nantes) I discovered one baguette, so delicious, so completely mesmerizing that I felt it needed its own entry. So here you go folks, behold…
Baguette à la Provençale!!



I must have a thing for anything labeled “à la Provençale” because my last post included a duck paupiette à la… you guessed it… Provençale.

I was in line to buy some wheat bread at this boulangerie when to the left of the counter I saw a small basket with just two of these baguettes. The bright orange color immediately caught my attention and my eyes wandered to the little paper label in front of the baguette. It had the name of the baguette and the price. 2.90 euros… Oh dear, a little pricy for a medium sized baguette.
After fifteen seconds of deep reflection I decided to get one. If there were only two baguettes of this kind left at 11:00AM it must mean that people have bought the rest presumably because they are tasty, or at least I hoped so.
I was hungry (I had a small breakfast that day) so as soon as I left the boulangerie I tore off the end and ate it. The salty flavor of tomatoes and red bell peppers filled my mouth, and I felt a piece of sun-dried tomato within the crust. It is the most flavorful baguette I have ever tasted without being too overpowering that it wouldn’t be good with cheese or with dinner. Quite the contrary, this baguette is delicious on its own, with just a bit of butter, or as a complement to a dish and imagine what it would be like as part of a sandwich. How I wish I could export La Boulangerie d’Antan to Boston.

A real treat from the market

Le Marché de Talensac, located 10 minutes by bus down the street on Rue Paul Bellamy, is a real hidden treasure in the middle of Nantes. A huge indoor and outdoor market, le Marché is open every day, except Mondays from about 7:30 to 1 :00pm (it stays open a bit later on Sundays.) Produce (fruits et légumes), poultry (volailles), pork, beef (Boucher), cheeses (fromages et crémeries), Flowers, pastries, seafood… you name it, the marché has it.
My roommate and other friends started going a bit at the beginning of the year, but it has now become very habitual to go to the market, especially on Sunday mornings to pick up our produce for the week. It is not an exaggeration when I say that produce bought at the market lasts ten times longer than produce bought from the supermarket or any other store. That statement might sound extremely intuitive, but it is not until I experienced supermarket-bought tomatoes spoiling after only one or two days that I realized how lucky I am to have a market so close to my home, but also how important it is to conserve small local and responsible farming and food production organisms.

At a stand called « Volailler Delanoë » I got the most delicious paupiettes de canard et de lapin (duck and rabbit paupiettes.) These are thinly sliced pieces of meat, which are stuffed, rolled, and then secured with string. My favorite was my duck paupiette, which was stuffed and seasoned a la Provençale featuring red and yellow bell peppers, and olives. These I believe are common flavors from Provence in the South of France. I bought the two paupiettes already prepared and ready to be baked. I asked the butcher how to prepare them, and he told me 20-25 minutes in the oven would suffice. I accompanied the meat with two quick side dishes of spinach and red onion and boiled parsnips. YUM !

It was the perfect meal for a chilly, rainy afternoon.