Veggie Shawarma

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Veggie Shawarma

This little recipe is just a follow up of my awesome story “The Con Artist”. I hope you read it, because the following recipe is going to make a lot of sense; well, at least, I hope so. You see, when we grew up in the unforgiving world of Rock’n’Roll fueled, penny less like many in the city of Rennes, administrative Capital of Brittany ( we all know Quimper is the real one!), we young Bretons had to treat each other once in a while. As I am writing these words, I noticed that a little red zig-zag appeared underneath the noun; this aggravates me greatly! Anyhow, it also appear to happen for the word “Zigzag” … Sigh! We drank bear during concerts and gigs and yet, we didn’t go to the temptation of “Mr Mc”… If we were lucky enough to have a few credits left, we went to the Lebanese, the Turks or even the Greeks for a soaking Shawarma. There was many different names for it, especially on St Anne’s square, our hunting ground, but we didn’t care… Our left wing upbringing made us all friends… 22 Francs for a Shawarma or a Djeros? Big money then for the poor, but we valued what was good to us!

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St Annes’ Square- Rennes ( Photo Credit Cousin Julien Gillet)

Some of us even dedicated a song to the jolly sandwich, Harvey and brother Gael… Good times really! I decided to do a vegetarian version as I am off meat for some personal reasons, I hope you like it!

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Les Roufles

For The Chickpeas:

  • 200g of organic cooked chick peas
  • 1 small red onion chopped
  • 1 clove of garlic
  • Few leaves of fresh mint
  • Black pepper
  • A pinch of Fleur de Sel
  • 1/2 a lemon juice

Gently blitz all the ingredients in a blender, not too much! You need a bit of texture there…

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Blitz the ingredients

For The Dressing…

  • Two large tbsp of kefir yogurt
  •  Olive oil
  • Fleur de sel
  • Fresh mint
  • Black pepper
  • 1/2 a lemon
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Mint and yogurt dressing

For The Dough:

  • 100 g of chestnut flour
  • 100 g of Buckwheat flour
  • Salt
  • olive oil
  • Water
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Chestnut and Buckwheat Flour

Mix the dough with the two flours, with salt and water and let it rest… Now, you need too look at your chick pea mix, ready to fry…

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Chick pea mix

So, all the ingredients are ready, this is how it goes…

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All the ingredients…

First, make little cakes with the chick pea mix and fry with olive oil… Set aside when done…

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Frying the chick pea mix

Et voila once cooked…

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Fried chick pea cakes

Pour the dough on a very hot pan cake pan and spread gently, the Breton way…

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A gentle spread

The dough should start to look like this, after a couple of tosses…

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Ready to serve

Lay some fresh leaves first, then a bit of dressing, the wee chick pea cakes then and a bit more minty dressing…

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Dressed and all…

An extra bit for the road…

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The final compo…

Since things have changed and that I do not have the lip for meat anymore – especially lamb- I hope you will enjoy this recipe, revisited and from times gone by… Our hearts were in the right place… So were our livers!

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Veggie Shawarma

Keep Well and Eat Happy…

Slán Tamall,

Franck

 

 

 

 

 

The Con Artist

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Young Hungry Breton in fashion mode

You know, when you have to survive, one has to do some pretty crazy things. Well, when I mean survive, I really mean having enough money to have a bite to eat and most importantly, a few bob for a beer or two with your friends. It was in November 1991, and the autumnal air was brisk in Rennes, the Breton Capital. I had recently joined my comrades from secondary school and their rogue theater company called “The Smoking Dogs”, a “troop” made of former students from the college (Lycée) Alain-Renée Lesage, conveniently named after the Breton born playwright from the 17th/18th century. Funny really, the irony, knowing that he was born in Sarzeau, the birth place of our theatrical mutiny, where the father of my friend “ The Hero” had a country restaurant, HQ of our young lucubration. We moved to Rennes, Breton Mecca for students of all kinds: Law, psychology, history of art to just name a few and an absolute magnet for late teenagers and young adults who had a thirst for identity, music and art in general. The City allowed us to be us, yet to feed the need to be unknown again. We were broke but we managed with our few gigs here and there, chipping in when the going was good. I wasn’t an actor in the company, but a musician; Tom, our friend and director had had a vision and he wanted the dark concept of our plays to mix circus themes and live music on stage. I was happy to get the job, accompanying the talented Ronan on guitar with my tin whistles and sometimes playing riffs of bass to the performing actors. “The Hero” and Sergio were in charge of the lights, especially the pursuit projector following the every moves of the comedians, not an easy task!

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Fore God Sake, A Polpette Recipe

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Fore, County Westmeath, Ireland. October 2018

Just down the road from where I live, there lies quite a magical place. Fore in County Westmeath is better known for its 7th century Franciscan Abbey, hard to believe that 2000 monks used to live there at some stage, most coming from France… 1,300 years ago; humbling, I know…

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Butternut Squash Gnocchi

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Butternut Squash Gnocchi with mushroom and whiskey sauce

You know, when it comes to legends and superstitions – or rather popular beliefs- Brittany is not too far off Ireland in that department. Hollsent is our Hallowe’en, when we celebrate the dead, the departed to another world but the rules don’t always start and end in October! Oh no! We have a whole lot of characters that most of us take very seriously, oh yeah! We have of course An Ankoù, from the old Celtic God of Death Ankouvos, the tall, skinny and lanky valet of Death, patrolling our beautiful country at night to collect the passed over souls with his horse, as meager as him,  his squeaky carriage for the lift. If you are unfortunate enough to cross his path at night, well, it was nice to meet you as you are probably on the list and I think it’s too late I am afraid… If you hear the creaking of his cart’s axle, the tip is to run away in the other direction, home will do, hide under the duvet and keep singing “lalalalalala…” and you might have a chance to live for another year!

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Chocolate and Banana Tart

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Banana and Chocolate Tart

I don’t really go back home to Brittany often and if I do it is in September, sometimes in May, but most likely in September. Nine years ago, we went in October, almost to the date and around my sister’s birthday. The weather was amazing and my Father drove all of us to the North Western coast of the Celtic peninsula, an area I have always been a bit less familiar with, yet with breathtaking beauty, giant boulders of granite,  cute villages and lonely lighthouses…

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Chili Sin Carne

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Vegetarian Chili

” You know what would be great lads? Let’s sail our 130 ships to invade England, but instead we will go by Scotland and we’ll take them by surprise by coming from the West of Ireland… It’s gonna be great, who’s in?”. And so I was amusing myself imagining the unlikely conversation between a Spaniard Captain and his crew somewhere in the 16th century while standing on Streedagh beach in Co. Sligo, just off Grange. A place where one can still see at low tide, a wreck of the Spanish Armada, some 430 years ago, quite humbling standing there really, 24 ships were lost in the campaign and around the coast of Ireland due to bad weather and treacherous shores, poorly mapped then and where the survivors at Streedagh met a very grim fate at the hands of the locals and some “Red Coats” joining the killing spree… It must have been quite a sight, and I was there, standing on the strand, taking it all in and thankful for more peaceful times, well at least here and for now.

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Roasted Cherry Toms and Pea Quiche

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Roasted cherry tomatoes, fresh peas and goat’s cheese quiche.

It was a funny day yesterday… I was enjoying my breakfast, a nice mug of breakfast tea in one hand, the other holding the left side of my face, elbow on the table while listening to the usual gobbledygook on the radio, bis repetita placent blabla that it becomes quite entertaining and then voosh! Lights and radio out, silence broken only by the cats purring somewhere under the table. I just cursed a bit but without real conviction, accepting while looking at the ESB reminder pinned on the “do not forget” board in front of me and for the past ten days. The skies were grey, raining and humid, it was going to be a long afternoon… No TV, no internet, too sad out to go for a walk or even a drive so I did what I do sometimes, sat in the hall of the cottage and went through six boxes of pictures, a life documented like many others, six boxes and something like 25 years in the making, moments I remembered a bit more than others, I couldn’t stop…

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