Hospitality Borgogne Style

28/06/11 There's been a lot said about French indifference or even rudeness to tourists in the past, but personally we've found that this is rare these days, and probably no more than in any other country.  Certainly in rural France we've been impressed by the kindness, courtesy and helpfulness of locals wherever we've stayed.  We did suspect that basing ourselves in one place would be a different experience than, as we've done in the past, staying for a week then moving on, and this is proving to be the case. We're at the end of our third week here now, and greetings from the locals are really warm instead of merely polite, Madame at the boulangerie cheerfully anticipates what we want, and was delighted when I extravagantly - and genuinely- praised her cakes and pastries.

One highlight has been an invitation from our landlords to a shared village meal at the park. This happens once a year, and originally was a celebration of survival and salute to solidarity after a devastating flood some years ago. It's a tradition that's remained - everyone is invited and brings something to eat and drink, tables and chairs are set out, and lights are strung up. It's still daylight  until 11 pm here at the moment, but this particular night has the reputation of carrying on til the wee small hours.

We had a great night; all the locals made a point of introducing themselves and made sure we didn't feel left out. Those who had learnt some English at school struggled valiantly to make conversation and we struggled valiantly back, with our very terrible French pronunciation. But over the course of the evening, communication became easier, we started to 'hear' the words and are sure that as the evening progressed, our new friends were understanding us a lot better - even English words, as long as we pronounced them with a French accent! I do hope that wasn't just imagination and the wine(?) Actually there's probably some truth in it, as there are so many common root words in the two languages, but pronunciation is vital. I don't know how many times I've known the right word, but it's getting those rrr's up from the back of the throat that really counts - then the puzzled looks disappear.

A little shy to start with , but the end of the evening was much more jovial

We left at midnight after a wonderful night and much talk and laughter, shortly after some fabulous home made raspberry liqueur appeared. Feeling a little seedy the next morning was a small price to pay. 

Most French women seem to be good cooks, and proud of it. There was a lot of interest in my being a food writer, and several women insisted I try their dishes during the course of the evening - more walking required!  One of them, Francoise, is acknowledged as one of the best cooks in the area, and has offered to show me how to make a traditional Burgundian specialty, gougere - despite not speaking any English. She brought them along as a delicious contribution to the starters, and at the end of the evening, she also produced the best tiramisu I've ever tasted. I'm so looking forward to her cooking lesson, and Claire has offered to come along and translate.

On top of all this, we met a local man on our early morning walk who spoke virtually no English, but was really keen to 'talk', and before long insisted we come for an aperitif at his house a couple of days later. Claudine, his wife, speaks a little English from learning at school. Louis served up a local specialty, cassis (blackcurrant liqueur) with Aligote, a locally produced white wine, and we managed to learn quite a lot about each other despite the language difficulty.  Over the course of the conversation the subject of food came up of course, and they were delighted when I assured them I enjoyed French food very much. By the time we said 'au voir',  we'd been invited back the following night when their daughters would be at home, and Claudine said she would cook traditional Burgundian food for us. Louis gave us a big, proud grin.

Between that aperitif and the dinner, we'd biked the ten minutes  to Escolives, a neighbouring village, where a very good cremant (a champagne style white wine) is produced.

Entrance to the cave (cellar) at Escolives

Almost every village has a cave, and this one is part of a collective that supplies a larger local one at Bailly, which is very interesting. It's huge, cut into the limestone cliffs above the village, and was used to hide planes during the war. Originally, limestone blocks from it were used to help build Paris.


I can't help myself, I've got to explain about this meal. . .

Louis had said not to bring anything to the dinner, but we thought a bottle of good cremant would be appreciated, and we started with that and Claudine's gougeres. Their delightful daughters, Celine and Marie, are both students in Paris and speak English quite confidently.

Claudine with daughter Marie

We weren't quite sure, however, if we'd misunderstood; possibly we'd been invited to a drink and something to eat pre- dinner, not dinner, as there was a large plateful of gougere (choux pastry balls with cheese) and of course we had several each. But, we were then each presented with a plate of young leeks which included the green leaves, chopped, sauteed and served at room temperature; the two halves of a hard boiled egg sat on top of the leeks, accompanied by a  lovely herbed vinaigrette, and a long slim slice of meat completed the visual balance of the plate. This turned out to be slow cooked tongue, I think casseroled, and slices of bread were passed around (as always). Ah, we thought, this is the main course - light but delicious, and quite adequate after the gougere. All the vegetables came from their home garden, we were told proudly, and Claudine strongly believes in eating organic produce as much as possible. Like most of the villagers, they grow most of what they eat.


Well, we were wrong about the leeks being the main course - that turned out to be the most deliciously tender slices of meat, covered and roasted at a low temperature for four - five hours with a little white wine and subtley flavoured with herbs. Now you know I prefer not to eat meat, but in this situation I try, and I have to say this was beautifully cooked and delicious - goat, they told us, a bit worried that we would be disturbed by this, served with a light gravy and whole small potatoes, peeled and boiled.

By this time we wishing we hadn't had so many gougere. . .


Suddenly, Louis jumped up, announcing it was time to milk the goat, Dali (after Salvatore I presume), a very pretty girl who provides the family with at least a litre of milk at each milking, all they need to drink as well as make cheeses and desserts.

Dali

Louis milking Dali

Voila!

Milking Dali in the middle of the meal was not only an interesting surprise, but very timely, as it gave a little time for some of the food to settle!

When we sat down again, voila! Three cheeses to choose from, two of them home made goat's cheese and a superb Normandy camembert, with organic bread  - all great, but we're struggling now, big time. Did I say that each course was served with either chardonnay or pinot noir from the vineyards of either Louis's brother or nephew?

Celine and Marie then tell us that Claudine has made not one, non, but two! desserts, and we must try a slice of each.Ohhhh. . . .

They were both superb

Creme caramel

Creme caramel, made with goat's milk (which, by the way, when fresh is not strongly flavoured at all), flavoured with vanilla and

Custard tart, with cream and raspberries from the garden

We had no room for coffee or tea at this point and were thinking about staggering home across the bridge to our gite when Louis, bless him, brought out his home-made brandied cherries!  I had to try them - I just had to - but Russ decided that any more food or drink would be a danger to his health.


We had been hoping to find a good ferme auberge (a farm restaurant that has a set menu and you have to book), as we had in Provence last time we were in France; but there doesn't seem to be any around here. We've stopped looking, though, as the meal with Louis and Claudine would make any meal from a ferme auberge or most restaurants, for that matter, seem a poor second.


Oh my goodness, we've invited them to us for dinner - what am I going to give them????

Most of all, we're overwhelmed by their generosity and hospitality -a chance meeting that turned out to be one of those experiences you never forget.

Claudine, chef cuisiniere, and co-host Louis

Music Festival, Briam and real eggs

June 21st is the longest day in the northern hemisphere, (of course!) and also the day that music is celebrated in larger centres, right throughout France. We drove into Auxerre on a balmy night of 22-23 C about 8pm to find the central city cordoned off and the only car parks quite some distance away.  The streets were literally heaving with people, and musicians were on almost every corner. Individual musicians and groups of all genres and varying degrees of accomplishment, it has to be said - but the crowds were loving it all. From grannys to tots, everyone from miles around was there and having a good time listening and dancing in the streets to African/Latin American, blues, rock, heavy metal, country & western or classical.

21st June - the celebration of music in the streets, right throughout France

Much to our surprise, there was even a large group line dancing! It's everywhere!

Line dancing in the streets of Auxerre

We should have got there earlier, as we missed most of the classical acts, which was a shame - but there was plenty of listening choice in any case.

Anticipating a late night, we'd decided to eat before going in, so we tackled the briam (yes, I do use my own recipes) again, after being rather disappointed in it the night before - the problem was that I'd left my organising a bit late and the village supermarket doesn't really 'do' fresh herbs - probably because most people here have quite extensive gardens and grow their own. In any case, I'd had to make do with just a bit of parsley and some dried basil - definitely not as good as lots of fresh basil/dill etc.

It was, however, greatly improved by the next day. I heated the leftovers, made some 'hollows' in it with a spoon and popped the fresh free range eggs from our landlords into the hollows. Back in the oven it went, just til the eggs were cooked but the yolks still runny, a great way to make a different but easy meal. Served with hot crusty bread, it was sooo delicious. I make a point of buying free range eggs, but these were straight from the hens and I have to say they were the best I've tasted for a long time.

 

 

Lots of villagers have hens and although they're generally contained in runs, they're fed all the vegetable scraps and in our lovely landlords' case, their feed is supplemented with grain as well.

Very happy hens

Living here is like taking a step back in time on occasions - we always had hens and free range eggs  on the family farm, but how could I possibly not have appreciated the eggs more at the time?

Speaking of a step back in time, on our early morning walk (or frog march in my case, Russ is congenitally unable to walk at a leisurely pace! - Get the heart rate up, yadee yada), we saw a poissonerie, a mobile fish market, selling his wares at one of the houses we pass on the way. Mobile charcouteries (butcher shops) are also common in the rural areas - now how good is that?

I observed in another post that when buying fruit and vegetables, the question you're asked is 'do you want to eat it today, tomorrow or in so many days?', but also we notice that the fruit never rots before it ripens, which happens for too often at home. Is it that our farmers and retailers don't know how to manage ripening properly? Do the farmers pick fruit too under-ripe? I don't want to over - generalise here, it's not always the case, but it does happen much more than is reasonable. Rotting from the core out before the fruit itself ripens is shocking. I'm sure I'm not the only one to have found this thoroughly annoying.

While I'm showing you around some of our "backyard' here are some photos of the interior of our gite.

It's beginning to feel a bit like home now, and a lot less tidy than when we first arrived!

Pick your own fruit and veg - a great idea

I think the idea of  going to a farm on the outskirts of a town, armed with a knife and a list to pick fruit and vegetables is a brilliant idea. At Laborde, a suburb of Auxerre, is the Jardin de Laborde, a family- owned business that started small and has expanded hugely over the last decade or so. They supply the baskets, they grow the fruit and veg - all you have to do is go and choose what you want and gather it up - fantastic.

Claire, our host, picking strawberries

Not just fruit and vegetables, but herbs, too. I'd love to see this happening in New Zealand, to supplement our great Farmer's markets.

Fresh goat's cheese, cherries and pleurottes (oyster mushrooms)

When you've got all you need from the fields and hot houses, you return to their 'shop' to puchase - and you can also purchase locally made products from all around Auxerre, such as honey, cheeses of course, wine and liqueurs, cured and fresh meats, breads, cakes, nougat and so much more.

A birthday in Borgogne

14/6/11 The 14th is Russ's (husband's) birthday and voila! of all coincidences, some good friends from New Zealand (six of them) were due to cruise past our gite the day before, but were delayed because one of their party had an accident on their boat. Such bad luck, but it did mean they were moored outside our place for dinner the next night, after he'd spent a night in hospital. 

We set up a table near their boat, on the banks of the river on a wonderfully warm and balmy night  - great company, a night like that, good food and something to celebrate - what more could you want?

I baked wild salmon, and served it with a Florence fennel and bean salad marinated in white balsamic and extra good olive oil, and a combo of piperade (slow sauteed capsicum strips in olive oil and garlic), sauteed courgettes, and some oyster mushrooms - all cooked separately, then layered  onto a serving dish. Potatoes cooked simply, garnished with parsley and a little olive oil completed the main menu. Of course it didn't hurt that it was washed down with locally produced chablis and cremant (champagne).

As for dessert, the summer fruits here are so wonderful at the moment. Our host took us to a very large organic farm a few days ago which was all pick your own* - you just take a knife with you, borrow a basket, and pick while you wander - a fantastic idea, and very popular here. Fields of redcurrants, for example.

I saw several people with big baskets of redcurrants, taking them home to make jelly.

Anyway, so redcurrants and raspberries were on my mind as I was thinking about what to do for this dinner, and I finally settled on a raspberry tart. Only thing was that I didn't have time to make one, so I have to confess it was bought from the supermarche. Our friends bought a raspberry, red and blackcurrant tart as well, and both were delicious, served with creme fraiche. 

It doesn't get dark here til well after 10 pm these days, and we were blessed with a full moon.  Goodness knows what our neighbours thought of the crazy foreigners dining al fresco on the banks of the Nivernais, singing and getting a bit teary at the odd speech, all the girls wearing berets and hooting with laughter.

One of those nights we won't easily forget.


*A post on the 'pick your own' organic farm coming soon!   

Settling in to Life in Burgundy

13/06/11 Our tenth day, and I'm sleeping through the night again, thank goodness. Our host/landlady, Claire, says the rule is that it takes one day  for every hour travelled from the other side of the world, and that observation has been absolutely right in my case; husband, however, was back to normal after 3 days, so obviously practise helps.

We've tried out a number of the local baguettes of course, and have found a 5-grain one which we prefer, on balance, to the plain everyday one - the only problem is that although I requested une cinque grain baguette (as it said on the label), Madame Boulangerie just looked at me blankly (sigh). Correct pronunciation does help.  The locals are very good humoured, however, in the main, they just laugh with us, shrug and go out of their way to be helpful.

We really enjoy exploring the villages, there's one over every hill, it seems, possible remnants of past practices of farm subsidies that enabled them to keep functioning - unlike in NZ. The streets are scrupulously clean but scarily narrow! and like taking a step back in time, especially in places like Auxerre, where the original foundations of medieval houses remain.

Auxerre has been a port since Roman times, and is where Joan of Arc stopped to pray on her way to Orleans, in the magnificent cathedral of St Etienne

It didn't take me long to realise that although I've got all the basics in the gite (cottage) as far as cooking is concerned, I don't have any means of weighing or measuring, so am pretty much cooking ad hoc at the moment. I've pre-written columns  for most of the time I'm out of NZ, so feel fairly relaxed about that in the meantime. We've also got where-to-go-for-what sorted, and are relieved we leased a car, an important consideration in rural France.

As far is cooking is concerned, there is such great produce, not just fresh but of course the limitless range of cheeses, preserved salami-style meats in all sizes and shapes, and irresistable desserts, and I realise it's just as well we've been walking or biking for at least an hour a day! Every market showcases their own regional, boutique produce - there are so many different kinds of goats cheese, for example. I really like the way food is valued here. Fruit is sold on the basis of 'do you want to eat it now, tomorrow, or in a week's time?', and I haven't yet bought anything that rots from the core before it ripens!

A patisserie window is full of works of art, each tart or biscuit individually presented, so much so that it seems a shame to eat it (not that that stopped me).

As for the cheeses. . .

I had planned to photograph my favourite cheese, if you really can have a favourite here. We have visited the town of Epoisse in the past, a very modest factory considering it produces one of the most famous French cheeses. In any case, unfortunately, I had to photograph just the box, as it was (I swear) quite  impossible to stop eating the last third once I'd started. Anybody who knows this cheese will understand. And I have what is said to be the top Epoisse cheese in the frig, but don't dare open it in case I can't stop -Epoisses Berthaut - mind you, I do have about eight others to be going on with, so I shouldn't feel deprived.

Back to the kitchen; everyone has things they have to take when travelling - lipstick, marmite, hairstylists for example - but not this girl.  I absolutely needed a kitchen whizz/wand to replace my processor, so this beauty was purchased in Auxerre and it was courgette soup with garlic, herbs, mascarpone and gorgonzola in no time at all.

What is she doing on a river bank with a kitchen wand in her hand? Well, just to show a little bit of the Nivernais canal, really, outside our gite.