Crèpes

Crèpes

By Valentine

            In Breton (Celtic language spoken in Brittany), the same word krampouezhenn means both a «crèpe», which is a thin and sweet pancake made with common wheat, and a «galette», which is made with buckwheat. The term «galette» comes from the 

North of Brittany. In the west part of Brittany, people say «crèpes sucrées» for the 

sweet ones and «crèpes salées» for the salty ones. 

             Although now people enjoy going to «crèperies» to eat «galettes», it was originally reserved for poor people since it is simply made out of buckwheat, some water, one egg and some salt. People used to eat it without anything else. Sometimes they would dunk it in buttermilk (lait ribot). Traditionally, people drink cider with galettes. 

            We cook our galettes on a specific utensil: the bilig. However the array of terms 

to call it is quite large!  We can hear words such as galetière, galetier (galettier), 

galettoire, tuile etc. You roll out a galette with a rozell (or a rouable, or a raclette) 

which is a sort of small rake. 

            The production of buckwheat being not sufficient to supply the 8,000 tons 

currently consumed in a year, France imports wheat from China, Poland, or Canada.          

            Since the 1950s, most often, people do not eat plain galettes any longer. We can find all sorts of foods to put inside: ham, eggs, tomatoes, mushrooms, bacon, cheese…          

            Sometimes, especially in Brittany, we eat galettes during public events. In this 

case, we eat “galettes saucisse” – a sausage, which has just been grilled, wrapped in a 

cold galette – that we eat like a hot dog.  

You can watch the following highly professional video!         

I apologize for my voice which can be quite annoying haha!         

You will hear a song; that's a famous song that most of French children learn at school...

Banoffee Pie

Banoffee Pie

by Marie

When I was in Ireland, my favourite dessert was the banoffee pie… I’m not really sure where this dessert comes from but I honestly don’t really care because it is soooo delicious!

Last week end, it was Paddy’s day, we all gathered for an Irish day starting with a traditional breakfast accompanied with the right amount Guinness, Bailey's and other funny liquids and some of us brought desserts….

I decided to make my first banoffee pie (yes when I was in Ireland a simple stop at Tesco would give me one, but in France … impossible so I had to make my own!)

Here are the several steps of the pie making…. And if you wonder: Yes it was as delicious as it looks!!

Step 1: Melt fudge and cream

 

 Step 2: After having crushed biscuits and mixed them with butter, spread the mixture in a dish and bake it for 10/15 min.

 Step 3: look at the wonderful and delicious mixture!!

Step 4: Pour the caramel over the biscuit paste.

Step 5: Cover with banana slices.

Final step: Cover with homemade whipped cream and draw a shamrock stay in the Irish spirit!

An important announcement

Dear readers,
I am very excited to announce a first for this blog. I am pleased to welcome ten guest writers who will each contribute an entry to My life in food. en France. This blog is about celebrating and appreciating food and everything that comes along with that, and what better way to expand the reach of this food blog in France, than by having some of the students I teach here each express something related to food, in their own words.
These are students in my MEF 1 class. MEF stands for Master Education et Formation, from within the Lettres Modernes Faculté of the University of Nantes. They have been a joy to interact with every Wednesday at 10:30 AM, and I hope you enjoy what they have to share with us.

Read this article from The Guardian

It really makes you think and help you form your own opinions about the food culture in your own country...
                  Is the food revolution just a great big fat lie?

The best salad in the world

So, it might not be the healthiest, but it sure beats every other salad I have had in the taste department. 

Behold the deliciousness....

Okay, well, I'm not delicious. But I liked this photo of me sitting on the patio at the restaurant. It's on one of the most lively streets in Nantes. Note: the food coma-induced, dreamy look in my eyes.

 

I think technically this is still a salad because there is a bed of lettuce there... underneath all of the other, more important ingredients: Herb-roasted home fries, melted "Raclette" cheese, cured ham, and garnished with turnip chips and a honey and poppy seed wafer. 

And where can you get such a salad you ask?

Café Cult'
2 Rue des Carmes 
44000 Nantes, France
+33 2 40 47 18 49

and on their menu:

Salade Alpage
(salade de pommes de terre ailées persillées avec jambon de pays et fromage à raclette fondue) 14,30 €

A Breton pork stew

So now for something completely different… ladies and gentlemen, may I introduce you to Kig ha farz.

It is a Breton stew made with pork. After eating one of these, all I felt like saying was “oink oink.”

This traditional hearty dish from the Brittany region in France is made by stewing some vegetables (leeks, potatoes, cabbage, and carrots) with different pork elements- like the belly, cheeks and shoulders and buckwheat stuffing (the "far" or "farz"). This is not exactly haute-cuisine. It's simple but hearty country cooking able to satisfy even the biggest appetite. It takes a long time to stew- the longer the better, so that the broth, vegetables and the buckwheat stuffing (which sometimes come in the form of little dumplings) are all moist and oh-so-tender. Traditionally, the stuffing- made from slightly sweetened and buttery buckwheat dough- is cooked along with the pork and the vegetables, but inserted in a special canvas pouch which prevents the stuffing from disintegrating. How ingenious of the Breton! 

I had my own portion of Kig ha farz at a Brasserie here in Nantes called Le Coq en Pate. It was by chance that this Breton name caught my eye while I was looking over the menu. I asked our server what it was, and her description sounded appetizing enough and I was feeling brave (a common occurrence, though I know perfectly well it's either hit or miss with me at restaurants...) so I said, "je prends le Kig ha farz!" 
Fifteen minutes later, the whole table let out a tiny collective "ahhh!" when they brought out a small cast iron pot, mustard, and bread just for me! It contained a very large individual portion, and I, well, finished the entire thing... and left feeling very satisfied. 

My other dinner companions got their duck dish with a delectable sweet sauce. Maybe next time I'll try the duck... 

Christmas breads

So let’s move on to the Holidays and talk about three different but equally delicious types of bread that I had while I was at home. I took a three-week break and went home to Boston where I relaxed, saw family and friends, and ate. A LOT. It was wonderful.

#1
The first bread comes to us from Venezuela and is called “Pan de Jamon.” It is a traditional bread made during the holiday season and is a true crowd pleaser. I know I should do a little more reading on it, so I am unsure at the moment whether it is made only around the holidays. The information I have regarding this yummy and doughy bread comes from our next door neighbors- the matriarch of the clan Elizabeth was nice enough to share with us a loaf out of the many she was preparing for her own family’s celebration.

So here you go, feast your eyes on this: 

I probably do not need to emphasize just how delicious and satisfying a slice of this bread was. The only trouble was stopping after just one slice. As you can see from the photo, the dough is rolled up with ham, olives, and raisins. It was a perfect marriage of sweet and salty without one overpowering the other. Can't wait until next Christmas. If only I could steal the recipe....

#2

This second one is French. Pain d'épices. 

The direct translation is Spice bread, and while it is sold in almost every supermarket in air-tight packaging in all its traditional variations with different types of dried fruit, the original recipe centers around one ingredient. It is the one that gives the French pain d'épices its distinct flavor and texture: Honey. In my opinion, the honey is what makes this holiday bread in France different from similar breads, namely gingerbread. 

Rye flour, honey and spices is what packs a serious flavor punch! One bite of this decadent, moist, and hefty bread is like biting into a jolly and fragrant Christmas market (if that was even possible...)

Though there are different variations in France, and throughout Europe, I loved the one I bought at the Christmas market here in Nantes from a man who baked hundreds of pounds of pain d'épices in huge molds, and cut customers hefty slices, which he sells by the kilo. He added nuts, figs, and even chocolate to his artisanal pains d'épices. I brought a chunky (and heavy) slice home for everyone to try. It had flavorful dry figs in it. 

I stood in line for what seemed like hours, but in reality more like 30 minutes, and ordered  by gesturing with my hands the approximate width I wanted. The Pain d'épices man (I have sadly forgotten his name) asked me where I was from (clearly my accent gave me away) and when I said the United States, he asked me if I was travelling with the bread. It's as if he had a Spidey Sense, because he proceeded to give me detailed instructions about how to travel with the bread. He stared at me with a fixed gaze when he told me that under no circumstance could I unwrap the bread. I was to unwrap it only when until I was ready to eat it at my final destination. He knew he had to tell me that. It's his bread after all, and he was well aware of the inescapable temptation to want "goûter un tout petit peu" (to try just a tiny piece...)

I'm happy to report I did not cave, and unwrapped the tightly sealed hunk of break only after I had arrived in Boston. 

Be proud. It was tough. 

#3

The final bread might be my mom's favorite, and definitely in my top ten breads of all time because of the fact that I make it! I like feeding people (okay, that sounds weird) but you get it. It's so rewarding to spend time making/baking something only to see that people enjoy the final product. 

This is the Rosca de Reyes. 

I use a recipe from a great cookbook my mom got a few years back entitled "Bread: The Breads of the World and How to Bake Them at Home" by Christine Ingram and Jennie Shapter. The recipe in here is based on a Spanish recipe, but from the first time I made it, I thought the flavor was spot on, and reminded me and my mom of course, of the Rosca in Mexico. In Mexico, the Rosca is made and served on January 6th for Epiphany, or Dia de los Reyes which translates to the Day of the Kings. Of all the recipes I have seen, this one- though not so simple- is quite straight-forward and comes out moist and quite tasty. A little plastic figurine is usually hidden inside it. The person who cuts a piece of the rosca containing the figurine gets to throw a party with tamales and atole later on for the "Día de la Candelaria" on the second of February (in France, it is known as La Chandeleur and they make lots of crêpes!) So, obviously it is not to one's best interest to find the figure. In my roscas, I substitute the figurine for a bean or even a piece of dried fruit like an apricot. Here are some photos of this year's Rosca de Reyes. 

Entrecôte

is premium cut of beef used for steaks. No grounding, no dicing. Just a nice filet.
The classic french combination of Steak Frites could not be done better than at restaurants specializing in the "contre-filet" cut of sirloin. Just a nice filet and fries (perfect for dipping in the sauce or the steak drippings.)

There is one particular restaurant that is known for producing a delicious version of the entrecote and only the entrecôte.
You guessed it, the restaurants using the name L'Entrecôte.

Here is the website for the particular group of these owned by the son of the creator/owner of original Le Relais de Venise- L'Entrecôte.
http://www.entrecote.fr/

Their concept is simple. Serve one recipe and perfect it so that every dish is served within that same high standard. Let me tell you, they have only one item on the menu, and all we had to choose was the "point de cuisson" (how you want your meat done) and drinks. They do the rest, and the secret is in the sauce. The server brought out a plate with half of our serving of the steak and fries. Then they place a silver platter on the table lit underneath by a candle to keep the rest of the meat warm for later. Genius.

Here are some photos we took of that nice meal. Oh yeah, they have sinfully good desserts too...

the fries. thin and tasty.

oh yeah baby. look at that buttery sauce. What is in it?!?

There were three of us, and you can see the three portions have a different cooking point. 

As if we needed complimentary bread... but they gave us some anyway!

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!)