Celandine Salad with Salmon & Grapefruit Mustard Sauce

It's almost April and spring has arrived with alacrity, after two months of mercilessly cold, snowy weather. I semi-hibernated half of the winter, hence my rare posts :( Now, however, I am back. The revival of nature and the green and fabulous atmosphere at the farmers' market make my head buzz with ideas. Cooking is fun when you have so many choices, i.e. fresh veggies and herbs at hand.

This morning, as I was flicking though Mike's iphone, I found some old photos we took in France in August 2010 when we visited France: Bergerac, Dordogne, Aquitaine and Camargue. This last, I should add, is one of the most peaceful & beautiful places on earth. (If you click on the link, a page will pop up and it will bring up memories one of the most precious & beautiful holidays I have taken so far.) 

No matter how much I may sometimes mutter and grumble, France is an ideal location to spend at least a couple of days a year- just to soak up the scenery, enjoy French food down to the last morsel, sip some great wine, make the de rigeur visite aux caves, take some memorable snapshots and listen to Claude Challe: Best of Love CD while driving along winding roads. You've got to hand it to the French: they have turned tourism into a fine art. There are some serious lessons that we here in Romania could learn by taking a few notes while in France, if we are serious about tourism.  Nothing is left to its own devices, no stone is left unturned; any tiny village, site or place of historical, natural or cultural importance is to be 'discovered' - and the French will do their best to make sure you do!

I hate crowds (as I am sure the French do too). As a matter of fact, any time we visit France we try to avoid them, by going in the off-season (April-May and Sept-Oct are the best months), and by going deep to explore the real France.  Yes, despite the best efforts of their excellent tourism marketing machine, there are many hidden corners where you will only find...well, French people!  This is the France of the French - of the locals who live, eat, work, drink, have fun & buy their daily baguette from the nearby boulangerie and cheap but good wines in tens of litres from the local vineyard.

Here are some snapshots of Les Beaux de Provence and Monpazier, the latter a medieval village in the Dordogne region, listed as "one of the most beautiful villages in France"...and while you scroll down, I will have posted a beautiful salad a la francaise, which is very much my style.

Les Beaux de Provence

Vintage car in Monpazier

Les Beaux de Provence

Resting in Monpazier

Celandine Salad with Salmon & Grapefruit Mustard Sauce

Type of cuisine: French, low fat, healthy

for my love

Celandine is a wonderful herb that grows in spring and has "fleshy, dark green, heart-shaped leaves", as it is described in Wikipedia. In Romania we eat  its leaves which have a delicately sweet taste. 

I overdose on it each spring and never get tired of it. 

For lunch today, I played the French card with a little bit of...je ne sais quoi.

Well, I do know, but I am just teasing! 

You will need a small bunch of celandine which you have to wash thoroughly (this is the most boring part!), then peel & skin a grapefruit, chef-style. Squeeze a thick slice to make a small cup of fresh juice and keep aside. In the meantime, make the creamy mustard sauce. 

Mix the grapefruit juice with a teaspoon of Dijon mustard, add a measure of extra virgin olive oil, single cream (or yoghurt), mustard seeds and a pinch of herbes de Provence (or similar).

Place the drained celandine on a plate, with the filet of smoked salmon and the slices of grapefruit. Drizzle the sauce on top and sprinkle some mustard seeds carefully - otherwise, they'll bounce off the plate.

 I am certain you will fall in love with this French-bistro spring salad, so make the most of this beautiful season & maybe even plan your summer holidays accordingly :)

xoxo Yolanda

Blueberry Clafoutis

Today I had a girls' afternoon in! In the kitchen, I must add. Let me explain. My friend Alexy, aka @A_SilverLining on Twitter, came over with the purpose of baking scones together and tasting various jarfuls of Lemon Butter Curd which we bought from Ireland and UK. One thing led to another and we cooked and baked a lot.  We made Grilled courgette salad with zataar and dill, Burned aubergine with tahini and laban (which is heavier than yoghurt), Morroccan broad bean dip, Lentils with (home made) dehydrated tomatoes and roast onions, Beetroot salad with cumin & mint yoghurt dressing, Capsicum Tabbouleh, Blueberry Clafoutis and Scones, of course. 

It was a busy afternoon, but it was so much craic (fun, in Irish)! Great chat about the old times while grilling, mixing and delicately & patiently chopping veggies, it was amazing. Before I post the savoury stuff and the much anticipated white tea & rosewater scones, I will share this delicious, amazing, stunning, and totally guilt-free blueberry clafoutis. The recipe is similar to the Sour Cherry Clafoutis which I posted some time ago. Basically follow the recipe, but change the fruit. EQUALLY DELICIOUS. 

Here are some snapshots. Enjoy. 

Alexy, thank you, it was so much fun cooking together. How did time fly so fast? Love xx

Pot-au-Feu

My first Pot-au-Feu was so delicious that it is definitely worthy of a mention on Lemon Love Notes, Facebook, Twitter and other media outlets. :)

Generally defined as "un plat traditionnel de la cuisine française, à base de viande de boeuf et de légumes [...] is un bouillon aromatisé par des herbes (thym, persil, laurier…) et des légumes." In a nutshell, it's a traditional French beef & vegetable slow-food dish imbued with herbs, cooked in a pot (hence the name), and served hot. 

Another worthy-to-be-mentioned detail is that there isn't a strict recipe for Pot-au-Feu, though some vegetables suit this dish better than others. 

Traditionally, carrots, leek, turnips, mushrooms, onions, potatoes, celery, cabbage, garlic go into the marmite (aka cooking pot) where they meet with the lean and fatty parts of the beef or veal: shoulder, marrow, flank, rump, knuckle, topside, sirloin, shin, rasher, or ribs.

source: www.akstoddart.co.uk

The concept of pot-au-feu is rather simple- so simple that it's amazing that so few people cook it on a regular basis. I guess that one of the major challenges this dish has to face is the sheer competition with fast food and living life on the fast lane. Pot-au-feu requires our full attention and it is basically a meal cooked and concocted with LOVE. Yes, the big L- love, as in passion, dedication, tenderness, ardour, agape. It's funny how a dish as old as the dawn of our civilization, has become a gastronomic curiosity with a rather strange  name.

Our ancestors did use the cauldron more often than we do today and they cooked their food slowly. In Food in History, Reay Tannahill mentions that "in the fifth century BC, according to Herodotus, the nomad Scythians 'put all the flash into an animal's paunch, mix water with it and boil it like that over the bone-fire. The bones burn well, and the paunch easily contains all the meat once it has been stripped off'. In this way an ox, or any other sacrificial beast, is ingeniously made to boil itself". pages 16/17

If the dish was tasty, packed with flavours and contained a bouquet garni as the Pot-au-Feu does, little do we know.  Apparently the earliest recipes for pot-au-feu emerged in the first half of the 19th century and one of the earliest names of pot-au-feu was pot pourri, according to hertzmann.com. And what an inspired name! Pot-au-feu is indeed a pot pourri, a delicious sweet soup with tender beef pieces and herbs. 

Pot-au-Feu

Type of cuisine: French/Cuisine des Terroirs/Low Fat

Preparation time: 10 minutes (to wash, peel, cut all the vegetables)

Cooking time: 2 hours  (there is no rush, is there?)

Adapted from Harry Eastwood's The Skinny French Kitchen

Ingredients

beef (sirloin, leg, marrow & shin)

4 baby carrots

4 baby new potatoes

4 cherry tomatoes

4 asparagus shoots

1 stem of leek

1 big white onion

2 spring onions 

2 green garlic stems

3 or 4 bay leaves

1 cinnamon stick

1 tsp of crushed cloves

coriander seeds

1 branch of rosemary

thyme

2 tsp of dehydrated bio vegetables (don't contain salt nor other preservatives)

a small bunch of parsley

a pinch of Camargue salt (fleur de sel)

sumac or ground pepper or crushed mustard seeds for decoration (I used sumac)

Preparation 

Wash all the veggies and put the chunks of beef  in a large saucepan. Add water just enough to cover the meaty bones and the lean beef cubes. Add the bay leaves, 1 tsp of coriander seeds, 1 tsp of dehydrated vegetables and the cinnamon stick. Cover with a lid and let them simmer for an hour. Although not in the original recipe, I took the liberty of adding a cinnamon stick (I love cinnamon and I use it often with beef) and to my relief, it gave the broth an interesting flavour. 

I chopped and diced some of the vegetables (the leek, the parsley and the white onion) but because I used mainly baby veggies, I kept the rest intact. 

Method

Watch over the beef as you need to scoop the scum that rises at the surface of the water. After 40 minutes of simmering add the chopped white onion (cut in quarters) and let it infuse its sweetness for 40 minutes or so. 

Have a different pot ready and after approx 1.20 hours of simmering, remove the beef bones and set them aside to cool down. Sieve the soup in the new deep saucepan. Discard the bay leaves and the cinnamon stick. 

This way, you will filter the soup and no sharp shards of bone will find their way through the broth. 

Carve the meat off the bones, keep the lean parts and dump the fatty collagen-looking bits. Put them back  into the clear soup and add the baby potatoes, the carrots, the cherry tomatoes, 1 tsp of dehydrated vegetables, and a small branch of rosemary. Return the saucepan to the cooker and continue simmering.

30  minutes before the end, add all the green vegetables: the leek, the green garlic, the spring onions, the asparagus shoots. 

Taste and season with crushed cloves, fleur de sel, and thyme.  

Decorate with finely chopped parsley and sumac. Sumac is lemony and I love the blend of flavours and textures. The baby carrots and the white onion taste so sweet,while the meat is so tender that it basically melts in your mouth. The soup is clear, but the tiny specks of dehydrated vegetables (onion, carrot, parsley root, parsnip, celery & tomato flakes) have now expanded and formed a delicious kaleidoscope within the soup.

It's strange to think that once upon a time Pot-au-Feu was regarded as "le repas du pauvre", a meal fit for the paupers, for the most unfortunate ones. We are pretty fortunate today to know the recipe of this simple, yet delicate and delicious dish and cook it with love for ourselves and the people we love. 

Harry Eastwood says that this dish is one of her father's favourites and that she wrote this dish for him. Actually, her father "is insistent (and right) about making it a day before you want to eat it, so the flavours literally double in intensity and depth after cooking it". 

...True. If you can't wait till the following lunch, have it on the day with a slice of baguette, ciabatta, or fresh brown bread with cereal crust, then store it in the fridge overnight. 

"The only other imperative with Pot au Feu is to serve it boiling hot".

Trivia

Maybe I should mention under 'trivia' that there "might be occasional aberrations, such as the adoption of meat cooked a l'anglaise- rostbif, for example and even that interesting variation rostbif d'agneau- but, overall, no Frenchman had the slightest doubt that in matters of taste France was superior to all other nations."  Reay Tannahill, Food in History (page 239).
In a way, it's kind of unfair because recently in Ireland Mike had this beef stew cooked in Guinness and it was AMAZING! I was thinking at the time that once I find good quality dark beer in Romania, I will cook it myself.

However, the Pot-au-Feu frenzy is pretty infectious and I've recently discovered this Vietnamese variation on www.vietworldkitchen.com which is called Sup Thit Bo.

At the end of the day, no matter where you live, what you do and where you come from, the classic Pot-au-Feu will be always adapted to the local culture, the seasonal ingredients, and your own unique personality.

Clafoutis aux griottes (Sour Cherry Clafoutis)

Oh là là...what is the rendition of clafoutis in English? None, I believe, as clafoutis is clafoutis in any language and it should remain like this since 'translators, [are] traitors".  To my surprise, I have never had clafoutis before. Or have I? I may have mistaken it for cherry pie... *confused* 

I can't remember. The bottom line is that I have recently bought this wonderful gem The Skinny French Kitchen and, as soon as I came back home from my trips to Ireland and France, I rolled off my sleeves and I started putting it to the test. Yes, yes, it has already passed the test on a couple of occasions. :)  (you have to stay tuned, more - soon - on Lemon Love Notes).  

However, in my quest to research it more, I found a more clarifying definition on cooksillustrated.com, which I will copy and paste below. 

"If you mix plenty of unpitted black cherries into what may best be described as a slightly thickened crêpe batter, you will have the makings of a traditional clafoutis limousin—a type of batter cake from the farm country of southern central France. The recipe is old but not ancient, probably dating from around the 1860s. The unusual name (sometimes spelled clafouti) comes from clafir, a dialect word meaning “to fill”. [...] According to Larousse Gastronomique, when the Académie Française defined clafoutis as a “sort of fruit flan”, inhabitants of Limoges—capital of the Limousin region—protested, forcing the institution to change the definition to the more acceptable “cake with black cherries”. Black cherries are the meatiest, juiciest, and sweetest of all cherries—and they’re left unpitted because the pits are thought to enhance the flavor of the batter with a perfume faintly reminiscent of almonds. Whole cherries are also less likely to bleed into the batter. A perfect clafoutis has a deep golden brown crust on both the bottom and the top. And the only way to achieve this is to bake it in a sufficiently hot oven. At too low a temperature, the flour separates from the rest of the batter, settling at the bottom of the pan and leaving a pale custard behind. Though black cherries are the classic addition, clafoutis is made today with all kinds of fruit. In the Auvergne, next door to the Limousin, where clafoutis is known as milliard, it may contain cherries, grapes, red currants, or prunes."

(source http://www.cooksillustrated.com)

A cross between a pie and a cake, this astounding dessert is endowed with one more quality that I highly appreciate: it is as light as a feather and feels as if it were calorie-free :)

Clafoutis with Sour Cherries

Type of cuisine: French, Cuisine des Terroirs / Low Fat

Preparation time: 10 minutes / Baking time: 30 minutes @ 200 degrees Celsius

Adapted from the (wonderful) The Skinny French Kitchen by Harry Eastwood 

350 gr of stoned cherries (can be frozen)

3 free-range eggs

3 tbs of (brown) sugar

3 tbs of flour

170 ml of (low-fat) 1.5% milk (or approx 3/4 cup of milk)

vanilla extract

a pinch of salt (I used Camargue salt)

a slice of butter (approx 10 gr) to grease the dish

caster sugar (to sprinkle on top)

Preparation

Preheat the oven @ 240 degrees Celsius. 

If you use fresh cherries, stone them. If you use frozen cherries from a bag, thaw them and drain the juice. Set aside.

Grease a tin (or an oven-proof dish) with a tiny slice of butter (I use 65% fat butter) and sprinkle some flour. 

Method

Break the eggs, separate the whites and the yolks. In two separate bowls beat the egg whites with 1 tbs of sugar and the yolks with 2 tbs of sugar. Once their consistency becomes fluffy, pour the yolks over the whites, drip the vanilla extract, sprinkle the salt and mix with a silicone spoon. Add 3 tbs of flour and whisk.
Finally pour the milk and mix the batter lightly.

Lay the cherries on the bottom of the tin, then pour the batter over. Put the tin in the middle of the oven. Lower the oven temp and bake for 30 minutes @ 200 degrees C.

sprinkle some caster sugar

As you know, I am not a big dessert person, (apart from my Totally Decadent Raspberry Chocolate Cake with Milk Tapioca Pudding, of course), but in general I have a sweet tooth, especially for low-fat, healthy options. Milk, vanilla, pitted cherries are among my favourite ingredients to use when baking. I have already made clafoutis twice in a week, and I will be a boring as ever as to remake it with seasonal fruit from now on :) This dessert has put me in a mood for more and more French dishes. Like many others, I have  thought that to cook à la française is expensive, complicated, and  fussy, which is totally a wrong assumption. Simple & wholesome, glamourous & stylish, French cuisine is a pleasure to both the eye and the palate. 

Because, we must give it to the French, they do food well. Each Breakfast, Lunch, or Dinner is a celebration of life in itself. The fact that the French take their food seriously is reflected in the poetry of simple gestures made with such ease: buying the daily baguette, a chef putting together the menu du jour in a tiny restaurant/bistrot, sipping an espresso in a street cafe, going to the Sunday local market, eating out in a fancy restaurant, or just having a meal comme il faut: enjoying it to the last morsel with no rush (and no regrets) :)

Le souper tue la moitié de Paris, le dîner l'autre.  Montesquieu, Charles de Secondat. 

Dinner kills one half of Paris, and supper the other.  Montesquieu, Charles de Secondat. 

The photos below are a selection from the work of my favourite photographer, Robert Doisneau who once said that...

“The marvels of daily life are exciting; no movie director can arrange the unexpected that you find in the street.”

source: davidspowart.blogspot.com

source: Atelier Robert Doisneau www.robert-doisneau.com/fr

source: Atelier Robert Doisneau www.robert-doisneau.com/fr

source: Atelier Robert Doisneau www.robert-doisneau.com/fr

source: Atelier Robert Doisneau www.robert-doisneau.com/fr

source: www.nouvellesimages.com

Moules vs Mussels

I am back. Three weeks passed in no time, I blinked- and here I am - back home. Time flies when you're having fun. And what a great time we have had driving across Europe from Romania to France en route to Ireland, stopping off when a beautiful village or place would catch our eye, and then sailing for eighteen hours on calm waters to our destination destination. Oh, quelle émotion, to be on Irish soil for the first time in my life. In the meantime, we stopped at night in both Austria and France. When we arrived, night was falling over Reims, la cité des rois, which I first visited in 1994 as an exchange student in High School. Little did I know at the time that Reims is an amazing gastronomic hub for good food lovers. At the time we were not concerned with going out downtown and finding a cosy -so French- bistro to have moules, escargot, or bécasse au champagne (a game dish cooked in champagne). But life is full of surprises and even if people don't change that much, circumstances do, and so does our perception of the world. We appreciate today things we barely noticed in the past. 

   

Bistrot Le Gaulois

2 Place Drouet d'Erlon

51100 Reims, France

       03 26 47 35 76     

Who would have guessed that today I would be totally in love with this simple, yet zesty dish, when years ago  I wouldn't have been interested in seafood specialities nor in moules in particular. And the main thing that draw me closer to Le Gaulois was the sign below, glowing in the dark. I noticed that the place was packed with locals (which always gives me the reassurance that the food is good and that I will not get ripped off as a tourist). 

We sat at a tiny table which barely accommodated two people, two glasses, and a bottle of Perrier, but it was a warm April evening, and the pleasure of sitting outside watching people passing by outdid this minor inconvenience.

It was pretty exciting getting the menu. Although short and sweet, it embraced the beauty and the exquisite flavour of France (as cliched as this may sound...).

Moules Marinieres (vin blanc, oignons, sel, poivre) in white wine, onion, salt and pepper.

Moules sauce piquante (vin blanc, oignons, tomates pelees, poivrons, tabasco) in white wine, onion, peeled tomatoes, peperoni and tabasco sauce.

Moules Champenoises (champagne, champignons, 4 epices, creme, sel, poivre) cooked in champagne, mushrooms, 4 spices, creme fraiche, salt and pepper.

Moules Ardennaises (vin blanc, oignons, lardons, celeri, sel, poivre) in white wine, onion, bacon, celery, salt and pepper.

A tough choice, to be honest, but because we had recently cooked Moules Marinieres ourselves, I decided to stick to a timeless classic, in order to compare and take notes.

Twenty minutes later a huge potful of steaming mussels was placed in front of me and my heart quivered with excitement. What a great melange of flavours and scents, with the salty flagrance of the sea tightly stored in the delicate mussels cooked in local wine and generously sprinkled with fresh parsley on top!  In Romania, where mussels are imported, the salty flavour of the ocean disappears, so you can imagine my amazement when I discovered that these refined little clams were still naturally salted. I attribute it to the beautiful surroundings, the exquisite company *love* - un homme & une femme staying overnight in the Coronation City- because these were the tastiest moules I have ever had.

moules...no more

Mike's escargots

The night went on with crème brûlée which for once I didn't share with my other half :) - I'm always requesting an extra spoon to take a bite of his dessert.

delicious crème brûlée

Taking into account that Mike had veal, a glass of white, red (maybe two) and a dessert wine each, coffee, fresh baguette on the house, and two bottles of Perrier, the bill came as a pleasant surprise: 53 euro, without the (well deserved) tip. We would have left more but we didn't have enough cash, but let's hope this positive review compensates in some way! The service was extremely prompt and friendly, and if I ever get the chance to return to Reims (for longer, I hope), Le Gaulois will be certainly on my to-visit list.

an impressive work of Gothic art

a statue that gave me chills down the spine!

Almost two weeks later, on the other side of the Channel, we were in Martine's in Galway with two wonderful friends.

Sorry to jump from one dish to another, from one country to another, and from one city to another, but there is method in my madness. Yes, it's the same delicious ingredient cooked Asian style.

Martine's Restaurant and Winebar

21 Quay Street

Galway, Co. Galway, Ireland

091 565 662

www.winebar.ie

Beautiful would be one simple word to describe this cosy restaurant. Wonderful company, great food and my favourite dish with a twist: Thai Mussels. 

  

We arrived after 8 o'clock and, because we were late (mea culpa), we were asked to wait at the bar - sipping a pre-dinner drink gave us time to go through the menu. Again, a good sign - the menu was short and sweet, simple but packed with flavours, both traditional and modern at the same time, making the most of the local Irish ingredients and turning them into surprising dishes: 

Rack of Lamb: char-grilled with green beans, Dauphinois potato and lamb juice

Slow-cooked Lamb with winter vegetable ragout and gravy


Organic Fillet Steak Burger on a bed of creamed potatoes with sweet and sour onions

Crispy Silver Hill Half Duck with herb stuffing, creamed potato, red cabbage and Grand Marnier sauce.

Apple Tart Pie caramelized with home-made salted caramel ice cream.

Chocolate and Baileys Delice, rich chocolate dessert with praline base and pear sorbet.

However, my eyes fell on the Thai Mussels from the very beginning. Mike ordered it as a starter, while I had it as my main dish and nothing else. And believe me, it was a huge bowl of mussels bathing in a delicately flavoured soup of coconut, fresh lemongrass, chilli and a hint of Thai green curry.

Mike's starter, Thai mussels

Sheila's grilled organic salmon cakes

Crispy Half Duck with red cabbage and Grand Marnier sauce

So different from their French counterparts, the Asian style mussels were equally scrumptious, delicate and imbued with flavours from far away. 

For dessert I opted for vanilla crème brûlèe, described in the menu as "rich egg baked custard topped with a delicate layer of caramelised sugar". A faithful description of an addictive classic. 

vintage drinks menu

crème brûlée - equally delicious on Irish shores

Bread and Butter pudding 

In a nutshell, we had such a great time with Sheila and Tony, the food was mouth-watering, the restaurant was such a great choice and the company was so much craic. Will I be back to Martine's? Definitely!!! In the meantime, I have pinned their site/foodblog to my favourites folder. It's a personal outpouring of love for good food and sustainable, fresh ingredients, "I went into the kitchen about 2 years ago and found a passion for food that I would like to share with you.",  tips, and cooking techniques.

One final note about moules: since I was under the mistaken presumption that  Moules a la Mariniere must contain cream in the wine sauce, I feel obliged to share with you what I have recently discovered. In The Skinny French Kitchen ( a must-have if you love French cuisine, but worry about your waistline) by Harry Eastwood, I read the following:

"There is a myth about this dish in Britain, namely that marinieres is a cream-based sauce. There is a famous French (or Belgian, depending on who you ask!) mussel dish called 'Moules a la Creme', but there is no cream in the traditional Moules a la Mariniere. This means that a huge saucepan full of moules is actually really virtuous. This leaves plenty of extra calories to spend on a nice hunk of baguette or even a side of skinny fries (otherwise known as Pommes de Terre Sautees, see page 62)."

Moules à la provençale

Moules Marinieres. Full stop. Simple, French and insanely delicious, these small clams bring to mind the zest, the smell of marine air, and the salty taste of far-away seas and oceans. White wine, garlic, creme fraiche and chopped parsley. Fresh baguette and chilled white wine. And there you go, eight months later, you are no longer on stress-free vacation under the August sun, in that little quayside restaurant, but in your humdrum urban kitchen recreating (one of) the most indulging and comfort holiday dishes –

Moules à la provençale.

Tiny urban kitchen:  Moules a la Provencale at home.

On an ordinary, chillier-than-normal April weekend, I decided to go item-shopping, and found fresh moules (mussels) & suddenly I had flashbacks of Southern France - Provence - Camargue - Saintes Maries de la Mer.

view of Port Gardien, Stes Maries de la Mer (rue Theodore Aubanel)

Unforgettable holidays are often completely unplanned: good company, chillout music and beautiful scenery all around, lead you to the most unexpected places; great discoveries are off the beaten track.

Located half an hour's drive from Arles, Saintes Maries de la Mer, the capital of Camargue, marks the end of D570 and the beginning of paradise. It took me less than a moment to fall in love with this magical place where man and nature blend harmoniously without disrupting the environment: grazing Camargue bulls, wild horses and pink flamingos wallowing in the marshes, all live in the proximity of snapshot-happy humans,  tolerant of the ceaseless tourist chatter and wows of admiration.

A boat trip deep into the delta, a simple meal in a quaint p'tit resto right on the sea shore, a sunset walk on the pier, a vibrant gitano concert late at night in a street cafe, the sheer tranquillity of the sound of crickets, the vastness of the starry skies, and - when we were there, the eerie distant colours of the Aurora Borealis (surprising for this latitude) on the northern horizon - all still fail to describe the beauty and variety of this land.

Moules Marinieres en Camargue

The heart of a pearly clam...delicious

Moules...no more :(

Last night, as I was going though holiday snapshots, Mike was making Moules Marinieres, at my request. Frankly, he masters the art of French cooking close to perfection. He's made great French classics to come to life such as Coq au Vin and you may remember his guest post of Boeuf Bourguignon here on Lemon Love Notes.

MOULES MARINIERES

by Mike Waters, 

Guest writer

Type of cuisine: French, Provencale

Difficulty: easy

Cooking time: 30 minutes

Yolanda and I still have great memories of a couple of great meals on the quayside in Sts. Maries de la Mer, a beautiful seaside village where the footsteps of Van Gogh still echo through the tiny narrow streets, with a strong hint of '60s gauche thrown in.  Here, on a still late summer evening, with the sun setting over the marshes of the Camargue, the faint strains of gypsy music in the distance, and the balmy Mediterranean air caressing both the skin and the soul, it is easy to imagine you have just stepped off planet Earth into Paradise. 

That evening, I had Foie Gras and Yolanda had prawns, but what had led to this dinner was the wonderful lunch of Moules Marinieres that we'd had the previous day, just before embarking on a spectacular Camargue boat-trip. This dish was absolutely magical, and it was Yolanda's first experience of it.  I promised to do it at home, and last night, I was gently reminded of that promise!

The INGREDIENTS are easy  to obtain.

• 50g of butter

• 4 cloves garlic, finely chopped

• 8 shallots, halved (or two small onions, coarsely chopped)

• approx 1.5 kg of mussels, still in their shells

• 1 cup dry white wine

• 1/2 cup chopped parsley 

• large pinch ground black pepper

• 1.5 cups (light) single cream

METHOD

Wash the mussels well under cold running water, making sure to remove any pieces of grit and gristle. 

Fry the garlic and shallots in the butter, in a very large saucepan, on a low heat.  Add the mussels and the white wine, cover the pan tightly, and turn up the heat. Allow the mussels to steam in the wine for about 5 minutes (thus should open them), then lower the heat again.  Add the parsley, pepper and cream, stir well, and simmer for about another three or four minutes.

Serve in a large deep bowl, and pour the sauce over.  This dish is delicious with some really fresh, crusty Baguette or Ciabatta, and a side salad.

For wine, I would choose a crisp - but quite buttery at the same time - Chardonnay.  Two Oceans (South Africa), Hardy's (Australia) or Recas (Romania) all go down very well.

just waiting (to be cooked)