I started to post this blog with a lovely photo of sheep grazing in a field just outside the city limits of Arles. I spotted them when we were driving back from our latest wine-buying excursion to Pic St. Loup. I took their photo from the window of the van. But I changed my mind since today's recipe will involve mouton, or sheep. Some people get a little queasy when they see the cute little critters looking so peaceful and serene and then think about eating them. I do not fall into that category. Martha, my best buddy, will not eat fish that still have eyes. Rick Steves, guru of guide books, also has a French phrase book. I spent one evening laughing out loud at some of his entries. Here's what Martha would need: Rien avec des yeux. And good old Rick, bless his heart, even gives you a guide to pronunciation: ree-an ah-vehk dayz yuh. (I have to admit that I made a game out of covering up the French and English and trying to figure out what on earth the phrases were. Strange, I know, but funny as heck for a French teacher.) Another expression in his book is Il est mort depuis longtemps? eel ay mor duh-pwee lohn-tahn? How long has this been dead? Personally, I have never asked that question when dining out. At the market, though, the vendors make a point of letting you know when your meat, poultry or fish stopped breathing. Chickens are sold with some feathers remaining, the feet intact or the head still attached. I have heard shoppers discuss time of death before buying a pig's head or feet. At any rate, I opted instead to publish the photo I took of today's recipe.
I have also taken up knitting again. It's been a while since I made cute little sweaters for my son, Jake, who is almost 21. I found a shop that sells patterns and yarn and am in the process of knitting a pullover for myself. Just another reason to love those sheep grazing out in the field!
It has been a busy couple of weeks around here. We shopped, cooked and ate with a group of Brazilians one Saturday. They were fantastic. Fitting 18 of us around the table was not easy. I spent most of my time getting up and down to serve, fetch and clear. Finally, I just gave up and stayed in the kitchen until needed! Madeleine Vedel's cousin, Kenchy, and his new bride, Melinda (NOT Melissa- or did I get it backwards? Names are not my forte...) spent their honeymoon, voyage de noces, with us. We were hired for a day by Dr. Rose McKenney, a geology professor from Washington state. We took her to visit Claudine, the goat cheese maker, to St. Rémy de Provence to sample (and buy, bien sûr) chocolate made by Joël Durand and to Chateauneuf-du-Pape to sample wine. It rained all day and we were pretty soggy by the time we returned to Arles. Thankfully, Rose's philosophy matches mine- you can't do a thing about the weather so you might as well have fun anyway. White Chateauneuf-du-Pape is divine, by the way. You can't buy it in the states because they don't make enough of it and try to keep it for themselves. You can order it online and have it shipped to you, though. I've given the link to Cave du Verger, in case you are tempted. We also cooked with Rose, preparing a duck and leek dish, a nice, warm treat on a chilly, rainy evening.
By this time, after 4 months in Provence working with Chef Érick, I should be ready for anything when he asks me if I want to go for a walk. I should know by now that Tu veux faire un tour? Or tu veux faire une promenade? can mean a simple walk in town to make the rounds and say hello to everyone or it can mean a drive to the beach in Marseille, an hour away. I should also know to ask specifically where we are going before closing the door to the house. However, I was caught off guard once again this week. Our work was done for the day, lunch was over and the dishes were washed. I took my shower and dressed in my usual jeans, but I put on my suede clogs, my favorite shoes, instead of my usual Nikes and pulled out a nice warm sweater because it was a bit chilly. So, I thought I was ready for a walk in town. Instead we headed for the parking lot and the van. Chef Érick asked if I had been to the town of Fontvieille, about 10 km away. I answered no, the we had only driven through it on the way to other places. I was still thinking we were going for a walk through the little town to see the old fountain it was named for. Wrong again. He had decided that we should go look for champignons or mushrooms in the forest since it had just rained. Now, I do love stomping through the woods. I am a mountain girl and spent many Sundays playing in the woods on my grandmother's farm with my cousins. And I am not a high-maintenance woman, the kind I try to warn my sons against. But I was wearing my new suede clogs. Oh well, nothing to do about it once we had pulled off the highway and into a gravel parking spot. We were a stone's throw from Alphonse Daudet's windmill, if you have ever read his work. It wasn't very muddy, after all, and there was a well-worn dirt road that we could follow. We left the road and looked for mushrooms but found none as it is still a bit too early in the season. We did find a lot of olive trees and we picked some (the first time I've done that!) to take back with us to make olives cassés, literally broken olives, called this because you gently break them open before soaking them. We also found wild thyme and picked some to bring back to the kitchen. At one point, I looked down at the ground and saw fresh animal tracks. I thought that they were deer tracks at first. Chef Érick informed me, very nonchalantly, I might add, that they were left by a sanglier or wild boar. Seeing a sanglier had been a goal of mine for years, much like my desire to see a real moose when we made a family car trip to Quebec a few years back. We saw the yellow warning signs by the side of the road, but I never did see a moose other than the huge statue of one outside an ice cream shop in Maine. Last summer, I did see a whole family of wild boar crossing the highway in front of the car on a trip through the Camargue. We were returning from the beach late one evening, saw them ahead and stopped so that they could pass. I was quite thrilled. I was not thrilled, however, to see fresh traces or tracks while in the woods. I, also very nonchalantly, I thought, asked if wild boars are vegetarians. I was proud that I phrased the question that way, just seeming eager for knowledge. Chef Érick chuckled and told me that they are-- they eat the mushrooms we were looking for, truffles when they are in season, and all the other wonderful things growing in the wild. I must admit that I was happy to get back in the van without encountering one on the dirt path.
As we pulled back on to the road, he asked me if I had seen the Roman aqueduct in Fontvieille. No, I answered, I have only been to see the Pont du Gard, a huge one about an hour's drive away. So, we pulled off the side of the road one more time, a few kilometers away, and I was dazed once again by the traces the Romans left behind. This one was used to transport water to Arles but also to provide the power for a mill to grind wheat. I sat on the rocks for a while wondering about the manpower it must have taken to build this, as well as the engineering skills needed to figure it out in the first place.
The final adventure of the past week took me to Les Gorges de l'Ardèche. It was breathtaking and a little scary for someone who doesn't like edges. It's not heights I am afraid of, rather falling off the edge of something. In this case, driving off the road into the gorge at least 120 meters below. Apparently, in the 60's someone did just that by driving too fast around a curve. It was Linville Gorge on a much grander scale. We drove all the way from one end to the other, arriving at a cave or grotte just in time to be told it was 2 minutes too late to visit, the final tour of the day had just left. Oh well. Too many stops for photos, I guess. We decided to head a little farther up the road to Vallon-Pont-d'Arc to visit an exposition about La Grotte Chauvet. It was discovered in 1994 by three spelunkers and is the oldest masterpiece of prehistoric art, dating back at least 35,000 years. The cave itself is closed in order to conserve it, as is Lascaux in southwest France. This time, we were informed that we were 5 minutes too late. To ease our disappointment, we walked through the little village and found a café. Luckily, we were not too late to have a glass of wine!
I have made a new friend, Isabelle, who is also helping me with my conversational French. She and I went to the cinéma yesterday to see Woody Allen's new film that takes place in Barcelona. It has been dubbed into French and I could understand most of it. Tonight I plan to go see Entre Les Murs, a film about a teacher and his middle school class in the suburbs of Paris. It won the Palme d'Or at the Cannes Film Festival in May, making it the first French film to win the equivalent of the Academy Award in several years. I am quite certain that I will not understand a lot of the dialogue in this movie. The language spoken by teenagers is quite different from my textbook French. However, I look forward to seeing it.
Now that the weather is cooler, it is time for stews and soups. Carbonade de Mouton has already become one of my favorite dishes. This is one of the first dishes I plan to make for my family when I get home in December. Enjoy this with a nice, bold red wine, pasta and lots of good, fresh bread to soak up the juice! After serving, just before taking a bite, salt it with coarse sea salt to really bring out the flavors.
Carbonade de Mouton
A wonderful fall stew which originally used mutton (grown sheep) and is now done with lamb. This is a dish often served to the mariners of the Rhone as they passed through Arles, working the barges up the Rhone to Lyon.
Preparation time : 30 minutes ; cooking time : 2-3 hours
One kilo leg or shoulder of lamb (2.2 lbs)
3 tablespoons olive oil (enough to cover the bottom of the pot)
2 slices bacon chopped in small pieces
One onion, quartered
2 tomatoes, quartered
2 carrots, cut in bite size pieces
1 large turnip, quartered
Heart of celery, quartered and chopped coarsely
3 cups dry white wine
300 grams dry white beans (10 oz) (soaked in water overnight)
100 grams of black olives (4 oz)
3 bay leaves
A pinch of nutmeg
3 garlic cloves, crushed and chopped
Water to cover
Coarse sea salt, to taste
Cut meat into large cubes, (or alternatively ask the butcher to do this for you).
In a large deep dish frying pan, heat the olive oil, add the bits of bacon and onion and stir till lightly browned, add the meat and brown quickly over a high flame till caramelized. Add the tomatoes, the carrots, the turnip, the celery heart, the white beans, the garlic, the olives, nutmeg, salt and pepper. Pour in the white wine. At this point, you can continue cooking the stew in the deep dish pan, or transfer it to a tian or clay pot that can go in the oven. It is best cooked over a flame. Cover with water and cook either over a low flame for 2 hours, or in the oven at 180C/375F for the same length of time.