strawberry and rhubarb tart

The first thing to push its way through the ground in our potager is the rhubarb.  Deep red stalks full of promise and abundance.

I love rhubarb compote but also tarts, and best of all when associated with strawberries, conveniently in season at the same time.

Here is a yummy and ridiculously easy recipe for a wonderful strawberry and rhubarb tart.

To make the tart or tarts you will need 

about 8 oz of fresh rhubarb, 

sugar to taste,

 1 lemon ,

 12 oz of strawberries and  

enough pastry for a tart mould or for 8 small moulds,

Buy or make your favourite sweet pastry and line the tart tin, either a long rectangular or round mould or several individual moulds.  Pre-bake the pastry, blind to begin with  (covered with parchment paper and weighted down)  then finished off for a few minutes to golden brown.

Make a rhubarb compote by cutting the rhubarb into small pieces and cooking with  sugar until soft.  Check the sweetness once cooled.  Rhubarb tends to need a lot of sugar but I can't give a precise quantity.  It's up to you to taste your rhubarb and find the sweetness you like best.

Wash and hull the srawberries then cut into long slices or into half.  Reseve a handful of strawberries and whizz them in your mixer with a little sugar and lemon juice.

When the pastry is cooked and cooled, lift it from it's baking tray onto the serving platter.  Gently spoon the rhubarb compote into the pastry case, but don't put in so much that it overflows.

Carefully position the strawberries all over the rhubarb in neat lines or circles and serve the tart with the pink red strawberry coulis in a small side bowl to accompany.  If you wish to add a little vanilla ice cream, it's good too.

This is a lovely fresh dessert, making use of fruit that is freshly picked and in season, so at its best.

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French food etiquette and the dangers of a cheeseboard

Each country has it's own rules and customs, and the dinner table tends to be where they are most visible.  Dining in polite company can be intimidating for a visitor abroad. 

In France it is important to have both hands visible while eating.  This means that if you are sipping soup, for example, holding a spoon in one hand, then the idle hand should be poised, the wrist resting lightly on the edge of the table. Basically you're proving that you haven't got a weapon on your knees beneath the table!

The cheeseboard is served after the main dish and before dessert.   At a dinner between friends it is passed once around the table, generally each person steadies the platter while their neighbour cuts pieces from the cheese of their choice, and this is where it can get sticky.

What is the right way to cut each cheese? ... !!

To know how to cut the cheese you have to identify which sort of cheese it is.  Is it a slice cut from a large hard cheese like an emmenthal, is it an individual soft creamy camembert, a soft round goats cheese, or a chunk of creamy roquefort?

I can't remember where I found this clever diagram, but it demonstrates precisely how each sort of cheese should be served.

Of course here, since the French love to talk about the food before them, while the cheese is enjoyed there will also be much discussion about where each cheese comes from, which is the best wine to have with it, where to find the best cheese locally etc etc ... happy days!

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French orange season and my marmelade recipe

While down in the South of France, we couldn't help but notice all the orange and lemon trees laden down with heavy fruit. 

This is the time of year when I like to make marmelade.  We can't buy bitter oranges here so I make Three Fruit Marmelade using oranges, lemons and grapefruits.  If you would like to have a go, the recipe I use is pretty easy.

To make about 12 pots of jam I use 3 lemons; 3 oranges and 3 grapefruit.  I prefer to use organic because all the peel goes into the jam and I'm not wild about eating pesticides.

Cut the fruit into thin slices or even cubes.  What you do at this step really depends on whether you like large chunks of fruit in the marmelade, or tiny slithers of peel.  Any pips ( or seeds) should be reserved and tied into a loose muslin bag that goes into the pan with the fruit - you need the pectin they produce to make the marmelade set.

Put all the chopped fruit into a huge preserving saucepan and cover with three times the volume of water.  Leave to stand for a couple of hours, even overnight, then bring to the boil and simmer for 2 hours uncovered.  Remove the bag of pips.

Weigh the contents of the saucepan after cooking and add the equivalent weight of sugar or preserving sugar with some extra pectin (I know, that is a LOAD of sugar, but there's no way around it).  Bring back to the boil and cook vigourously for about 40 minutes until it starts to set.

The best way to check for setting point is to have a couple of saucers in your fridge.  Pour a little marmelade onto the saucer, let it cool for a couple of minutes then push gently with your finger, if the surface crinkles then you can stop cooking the marmelade.

I leave the marmelade to cool a little in the pan before ladling into pots, covering, labelling and putting away into my jam cupboard to enjoy throughout the year.   I love having a plentiful reserve of jams and preserves.  We eat a lot ourselves, and I find that a home made pot of jam or marmelade is useful for last minute hostess gifts.  French country style.

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it's just a baguette isn't it?!

With the cold weather and icy roads I have been buying a daily baguette for our elderly neighbours.  And it's when you buy bread for somebody else that you understand what an intimate part of French life the humble loaf of bread can be.

An outsider waiting in line to buy fresh bread may notice that each client mutters a few key words as a baguette is being selected for him or her.

"une baguette s'il vous plait, pas trop cuite"  (one baguette please, not too cooked)

"deux baguettes, bien cuites, s'il vous plait"  (two baguettes, well cooked please)

Regular clients don't even need to say anything about the bread, they just say bonjour, talk about the weather, and the loaf they prefer appears before them. 

When I picked up the bread for our neighbours, I asked for our usual loaf then said I'd have "un pain" also, there was a pause ...  a raised eyebrow,   "ce n'est pas pour vous?", (that's not for you), upon which I'd say no,  it's for Monsieur et Madame J,  "ah bon! ..... alors voila - this is the bread they take, Monsieur J prefers a good crust".

 And it's not just in the countryside that buying bread is so important.  Parisians will make huge detours on the way home from work to buy the bread they prefer, rather than from the closest bakers.

Each year there is a prize discerned to the baker producing "la meilleure baguette de Paris" (the best baguette in Paris, I mean ... really?!  can you imagine deciding on that one?!).  This year it was won by a certain Pascal Barillon who bakes at  Au Levain d’Antan .  Besides winning the title and a cheque, he also has the honour of being the official baker to the President of France for a year.

So for the whole of 2012, twenty of his humble loaves will go from here ....

to here each day!

What do you think it says about a country, that a simple stick of bread can be so important?!

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French women preparing for spring

Even though we haven't reached the end of January, there is a deliciously spring like feel to the air.  The birds have picked up on it and have dusted off their spring songs.  Snowdrops are out in the garden and like every other woman in France I am beginning to think about Spring... and lighter weight clothes... and putting away those heavy jumpers that have so conveniently hidden the fact that in the winter we indulge in a little over eating. 

UGH!  Some things just have to be said!

So here we go, my insider view on how French women are preparing for the fast approaching spring.

First of all they are moving!  Running, cycling, swimming, dancing, riding, walking or going to the gym - it's not what they do but how often.   The experts say that 20 minutes a day of movement and exercise is enough to make a real difference.  Walking the dog, cycling to the store, taking the stairs instead of a lift, in my case walking up the hill to feed the horses ...it all counts , especially for us bloggers who have too many temptations to stay sitting down!

Next they are drinking water , aqua, de l’eau!  Lots of it, for a couple of weeks they  forget about wine, champagne etc and drink a couple more glasses of water a day than they would normally.    The winter holidays always brings too many opportunities to raise a glass of champagne or indulge in heavy meals, now is the time to repent!

Then of course their food,  SIGH .... French women and their food, it is fascinating to see them surrounded by so many great things to eat and still stay slim.  It's no secret , they hold back!  They are reasonable, a little of everything, moderation, and avoid the carbs and the desserts!  Three well balanced meals a day, no snacking, plenty of vegetables and light protein.  I see it everyday, French women take their time over meals, they don't skip meals, but that doesn't mean they eat a lot. 

One secret I can reveal to you is 'bouillon', light stock, preferably home made not from a cube.  To be drunk with a few vegetables and even a little pasta.  Delicious, satisfying, wholesome.  Effective!

So what do you think?  I know this stuff, you know this stuff, we read it every time we open a magazine, but for the French it is simply non-negotiable.

You want to be slim, you work at it.  So here is my challenge to you, and to me:  let February, March and April be the months that make the difference.  Let us feel good ... à la francaise.

Feel inspired

feel French

feel the difference!

PS.  sorry about the 'slogans' at the end, I've been watching Mad Men!  :)

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this week we are eating - poires au vin

Our local orchards pick their apples and pears in September and store the fruit through the winter, selling the different varieties in a certain order.   Some keep better than others, so we have to wait longer for them to be available.  We have just got to the Comice pears, my favourite!  Big, juicy with a wonderful flavour.

Here is a ridiculously easy recipe for pears cooked in wine, a perfect winter dessert, that can be prepared ahead, looks pretty and feels light!

To make my poires au vin, I normally cook 6 pears.  With them I'll need about half a bottle of white wine, about half a cup of sugar, the juice of a lemon  and a couple of spoons of home made orange marmalade.

First peel the pears and carefully cut out the cores from the base.  I leave the stalks but find that it's a good idea to cut the base flat so the pears will stand nicely in a serving dish.   

As each pear is peeled stand it in a saucepan and squeeze a little lemon juice over, to prevent  discolouring.   Once all the fruit is peeled and in the pan, pour in the white wine, this should come almost half way up the height of the pears.  I used a dry white wine, some may prefer a sweeter taste.

Pour in the sugar, again the quantity is a question of taste, and more can be added later.  I also add a couple of spoons of marmalade, the orange flavour adds a little zing and the chunks of orange zest look pretty against the pale fruit.

Start warming the pan and let the pears come to the boil then simmer gently for about 20 minutes.  You want the fruit to be perfectly tender, but not to fall apart.  When the fruit is cooked through, remove from the pan onto a dish and turn the heat up to reduce the wine sauce.  You want to obtain a syrupy consistency, that will glaze the pears, but still liquid enough to give some sauce.

I serve the pears cold, but make a warm chocolate sauce to drizzle over by melting some good quality dark chocolate with a little water, sugar and rum.  Yum!   Hope you enjoy!

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this week we are eating ... French onion soup

The wind is howling outside here, rain is pouring down, the fire is lit and I find myself with the ideal conditions for serving a hot French onion soup.  Not a recipe to be rushed, this soup has to be planned, it will take about 2 hours to be ready - but oh!  it is SO worth it!  And it's fun because each person gets their own little soup, served piping hot, topped with bubbling cheese.  This is serious comfort food!

 To make an onion soup for 6- 8 people you will need:

8 large onions

olive oil or butter

 sugar and salt

about 2 pints (1.2 litres) good strong stock (chicken works, but beef is better)

glass of white wine

glug of something stronger (sherry or cognac)

a baguette

grated gruyere or emmenthal cheese

First cut up your onions into thin slices, mix with with a dash of salt and a little sugar and cook gently in butter or olive oil  (either are good, whichever you prefer).  Cook gently doesn't mean fry fast until sizzled around the edges; these onions need time to relax and melt then to caramelise;  personally  I allow at least 45 minutes.

Pour onto the onions your stock, add the wine.  The stock has to be good quality, preferably home made.  Some prefer chicken, I like beef for this recipe.  If all else fails you can use stock cubes but .....

You want the onions to bubble away in the stock and wine for an hour, over a very gently heat.     It's a shame to cook any less than that because this is when all the flavour comes through.  Add the sherry, pepper and more salt if required. All this can be done in advance.

When you're ready to serve,  make the croutons by slicing baguette thinly and baking the slices in the oven with a drizzle of olive oil until lightly toasted.  Make sure your soup is very hot, check the seasoning, then ladle into the individual pots, mugs, bowls, ramequins ... whatever  - as long as they are ovenproof. 

Lay several croutons on the surface of the soup and sprinkle grated cheese over the top then stand the bowls beneath the grill in your oven.   DON'T walk away at this point!!  You want the cheese bubbling but not burnt.

This soup is best when eaten very hot, straight from the over.  Oh yes,  don't expect much conversation from your guests, they'll be too involved in the amazing depth and flavour of this simple recipe!

Bon appetit! 

all photos found on google

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remembering my first french new year

The first time I spent the New Year in France, was also the first time I was invited to meet my future husband's family, and I was a little nervous.  I flew down to Paris, spent a romantic afternoon in the capital before being whisked out to the country home.

The dinner was to be a traditional family celebration, and that is surely the best way to meet for the first time.

From the moment I walked through the door, I was not only warmly welcomed but made to feel part of the party and allowed to help with the preparations!

The French New Year dinner was bigger and more sophisticated than any meal I had eaten in my life!  A long table was laid out for almost twenty people, most of whom were already present and busy.

The men were put to opening the oysters, and laying the fires;  little girls shown how to lay the table beautifully, the wonderful grandmother was busy making a wicked chocolate mousse, and keeping a careful eye on what everyone else was doing!

I was given easy tasks and encouraged to join in the busy bubbly conversations around the busy bubbly kitchen table.  Out of the corner of my eye I could see that there were many different sorts of dishes being prepared, but I had to wait until we sat down to understand what this dinner would be like.

Suddenly there was a change in tempo, and it was declared to be the right moment 'pour se preparer' to get changed and make ourselves look lovely!  I had brought with me a LBD and high heels, neither flashy nor casual, I felt comfortable although by the end of the meal I would happily have let the waist out a bit!!

All the girls, from the youngest (4 years old) to the doyenne (the eldest at 84 years old) disappeared and could be heard chatting as they did each others hair, or buttoned up a pretty dress.  The men also changed and little by little everyone drifted back down to the main fire, where bottles of champagne had appeared accompanied by tiny, delicious 'amuse gueules' .

The long table was beautiful, candles placed here and there, pretty napkins, sparkling cutlery  and three plates in front of each seat.  "On a mis les petits plats dans les grands", smiled the grandmère "we've put the small plates on the bigger ones", simply meaning this is going to be a grand meal.

After almost an hour chatting over the champagne, I could sense that speed was picking up in the kitchen and when the lady of the house declared it was time to eat, there was a flurry of people finding their seats while others carried huge platters of fresh seafood, smoked salmon and baked snails to the table.  I was advised which sort of bread to take with the oysters, and to squeeze just the right amount of lemon juice over the salmon.

The atmosphere was fun, loving, fairly loud but never out of place.  The  seafood platters disappeared after a while and the next course materialised as if by magic.   Foie gras and  paté en croute.  This also meant a change of wine, and only then did I notice that as well as several plates ready in front of us, we each had several different wine glasses.  We had enjoyed a dry white wine with the seafood, and switched to a sweeter Sauternes with the foie gras.

There was a pause now, a couple of the women busy in the kitchen, and the man of the house called in to carve.  Our foie gras plates cleared away, bottles of red wine appeared down the centre of the table and from the kitchen there emerged a magnificent roasted leg of venison, accompanied by two large dishes of gratin dauphinois (potato bake) and two fragrant dishes of sautéd wild mushrooms.

This is the point where I realised that when the French sit down to eat, it is a serious business, and first and foremost they talk about ... food.  Everybody was keen to discuss how long the meat had been cooked for, how well the wine suited the flavour of the dish; which variety of potatoes were best for the gratin ...  I sat back and watched ... and understood ... and learned ... and loved every minute of it!

We took our time over this main course, people enjoyed second helpings, wine glasses were kept topped up, children started to look a little weary but nobody was in a hurry.   In fact just as we reached the end of this course, the clock struck 12 and everybody stood to kiss everyone else in the room and wish each other the very best for the year to come.  You can imagine that with twenty people in the room this took  a while, but the movement was welcome, and while we were all standing everyone gave a hand to clear away and ... bring in the next course!

Cheese and salad was next in line.  Clean plates, same cutlery, and we continued with the same red wine.  A stunning cheese selection, and more food conversation until finally it was time for dessert.

Here the children were served with grandmère's chocolate mousse and for the adults there was a magnificent Buche de Noel, not home made but, as is often the case in France, ordered from their favourite bakers.  

This happy, family celebration ended at around 4 in the morning, the tables not quite cleared away, but space made for dancing in front of the fire.  The next day, I'm glad to say that the meals were much lighter, and there was a long walk in the afternoon.  A wonderful way for me to discover family life in France.

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a christmas chestnut cream dessert

Yesterday afternoon,  my daughter Nina came home from school with her friend Laure-Anne.   After they came through the kitchen and said hello to me,   their conversation went a little like this

L-A:  "Nina, why does your mother cook with a camera in her hand?",
N: "Oh don't pay any attention, she's just a blogger!"

This, my friends, is an unavoidable fact  of my daily life and a sure sign of a busy blogger, the camera rarely leaves my side!

So yes, I made the Chestnut creams and yes, I took some pictures and yes it was time consuming but that didn't stop it being fun!

Seriously though, these desserts are a wonderful idea for the holidays.  They can be done days or even weeks in advance, they look good and taste better.

Here is how I make them, using a recipe from the cook book queen Delia Smith.  Here first of all is how her perfect versions turn out,

and here are mine.

Not perfect I know, but home made has its own charms don't you think?

To make eight small or six medium sized chestnut cream puddings you will need

3 oz (75g) good quality dark cooking chocolate

2 tablespoons rum

2 eggs

a 17oz (500g)  tin of chestnut purée (I'll tell you later where you can find that)

5 fl oz (150ml)whipping cream

10 fl oz (275ml) single cream 

2 oz (50 g) white chocolate

You will make the puddings in layers and freeze each layer as you go.  To serve the puddings are turned upside down, so the first layer into the mould becomes the top of the pudding, but I probably didn't need to tell you that!

Queen Delia (and no, I am not mocking, I love her recipes!)  recommends  using small tin moulds;  I do not possess those, so I use my regular ramequins which are slightly larger than ideal

To make the top chocolate layer, melt 75 g dark chocolate and 2 tablespoons of rum in a bain marie.  Careful not to let this overheat because the chocolate will go grainy and be spoilt.  When the mixture is perfectly melted and smooth, let it cool a little then add 2 egg yolks.    Beat one of the egg whites until firm and white, then gently fold it into the chocolate mix and spoon a little into the base of each mould.  Pop your moulds into the deep freeze.

At this point I digress from Delia's recommendations.  "Is this woman mad?!"  I can hear you cry, "how could she dare?!".  Mais que veux tu? I'm just naturally reckless....  Delia likes to finish her creams off with tiny chunks of candied chestnut.  I find it fun to create dark chocolate shapes/letters for mine.  If you want to do like me, this is a good moment to melt the chocolate gently and draw pretty shapes onto waxed paper. If also like me, some an alarming number of your shapes  go wrong, it's good to melt enough chocolate to make extra. Once you feel artistically satisfied,  put them into the fridge for several hours to harden.

After a little pause during which you can cook the kids' supper, do a little light gardening, or just have a drink, the time comes to make the next layer.

Couldn't be easier.   Put half of your pot of chestnut cream into a bowl and stir to soften, then whip the cream until slightly thick, mix with the chestnut cream.  Finally beat the remaining egg white until stiff and fold into the chestnut mixture.  Spoon carefully into the moulds, being sure to get the same amount in each.  We're nearly done ....


There's just time to have another drink and visit a few of your favourite blogs, before putting on the final layer, this is simply the chestnut puree, without anything added.  Thick enough to give a third stripe of contrasting colour when the creams are turned out.

The creams can now be left in your freezer until you are ready to bring them to your table.  If they are to wait longer than overnight, it's a good idea to cover them with clingfilm.

When the grand day arrives, you simply need to melt the white chocolate in the warmed single cream to provide the chocolate sauce, then decide how to serve them.  The most practical way is to present them on individual plates and place before each guest, but if you want some extra fun you could always group them on serving plates and spell out a seasonal message.

And finally, for those of you who have difficulty finding the tins of French chestnut cream, I would recommend popping over to Vicki Archer's new shop and browsing her Sweet Tooth shelves.  I've heard she has stocked up for Christmas!!

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