After writing “The Storm”, I was reminiscing about my favourite tuna sandwich and how it came to be. I used to treat myself to a pan bagnat, originally from Provence. A bakery in the centre of Rennes used to make a beautiful one, with sweet bread, mayo and a hardboiled egg. To recreate this lovely bohemian memory, I made brioche dough, and a homemade mayonnaise with tarragon mustard. The spinach was local and the eggs were a gift from friends in Galway. And this is pretty much how it went, as far away as possible as the tuna and sweetcorn we got in that floating pub…
October 1992, all aboard! We were heading for Cherbourg to catch the St Killian II bound for Ireland. We checked the weather forecast on TV at lunchtime after the news, just before leaving; weather’s fine for sailing. The excitement was palpable when we all met at the Korners’ homestead, my friend Sergio waiting for us with a huge smile of trepidation as he welcomingly opened the front door.
I am not a big fan of Sundays, but I must say that I do enjoy the first part of the day, until at least 1 or 2pm. After that, I find it heavy and boring. After getting up and discussing the mysteries of the universe and other existential topics around breakfast, I always make an effort to dress nice, have a shave, even if it is my day off, and maybe use the more expensive eau de toilette for the day that’s in it; nothing. I realised that every time, I am re-enacting Sundays of the past, where imaginary family members would knock at the door and we could all have a wonderful, worriless and merry afternoon. But of course, they never come, or very rarely and despite my enjoyment at getting the dinner ready, you know, for later with “Blue eyed girl and the Seven cats”and “Doggy Woggy acting as a Dominical commis chef watching my every moves.
“Bara-Kornekoú” with thick custard and stewed apples
“Bara-Kornek” means “bread crescent”in Breton. A Hungry Breton’s creation…
To celebrate the apple season and the end of September, I wanted to do something a bit special. Also to illustrate my previous story I posted a couple of days ago, “Boxin The Fox”, when I had to raid an orchard as I was so hungry on the road… I hope you will like it, this is not a traditional recipe, rather original… You never know, it might enter a Traditional Breton cookbook one day?
First, I decided to make a nice flaky pastry, cut them into discs, fill them with homemade thick vanilla custard ( or Crème Patissière) and gently stewed cubed apples from the garden… This is how it went!
“Boxin the fox”: Irish slang for “stealing from an orchard”.
It was the end of September 1991; I was saying my goodbyes to county Donegal where I had worked for two months on a Rhododendron removal project, on the hills… “Slán Tamall Mín an Lábáin agus An Earagail “. Goodbye until later! I stepped onto the bus bound for Dublin after hugging a couple of newly made friends. It felt like yesterday when I landed in Ringaskiddy in co. Cork; I had got a free ride on a school bus trip, back from Brittany, all the way to Sligo; I hitchhiked the rest to Donegal Town, and now I was heading back the long way around. I crossed “The North” for the first time, Enniskillen and the intimidating British Army checkpoint – now long gone – before Belturbet in County Cavan. What a ride!
Grilled Polenta with roated cauliflower, Irish farmhouse cheddar and plum sauce
I wanted to do a little recipe to pay tribute to our Irish Farmhouse Cheddars; especially after visiting Derg Farm in county Tipperary last month, I wanted to do something a bit new and for everybody. I knew that I had an organic cauliflower in the fridge, but I wanted to drift away – at least this time – from the usual gratin that I have previously made. It had to include Cheddar of course and I wanted to avoid a soup and toasties, even if they are delicious together. The idea came when I parked the car in the driveway; I discovered that I had bought some polenta a few month back and when I opened the fridge, I still had a lot of local plums a friend gave me… Click… Clock… Click… Clock… I might have watched “Ready, Steady, Cook!” a bit too much during my early years in Ireland, but it delivered a lovely dish, vegetarian too, satisfying and for everyone to enjoy! And this, my friends, is how last night went…
I do often come across a bit of ignorance from our mainland European gourmands regarding Cheddar. A cheese named after a little village in Somerset, UK; a few miles from Wales. It also refers to a very particular type of cheese making. Unlike camembert from Normandy, the name Cheddar is not really protected so it can be found well outside its original region of production and therefore, due to obvious historical reasons, is found in all shapes and forms in Ireland. Shape wise, it is mostly square, rectangular, white or red (due to a carotene type dye); not really exciting, I’ll give you that, but then again, neither are a lot of main brands of Camembert, chalky, dry versus “boing-boing” plastic. “Tomaytoes-tomatoes”, same difference my friends! The truth is, real cheddar is a bit like some famous French cheese, from Auvergne, like Salers, Cantal or Laguiole. They are not covered with cloth, but their texture and taste can be pretty similar. I even have a theory that they might be related through old French monks’ migrations to England, the same way Wensleydale is related to Roquefort… But that is a debate for another day.
“Farz” in Breton means or rather refers to a patisserie from Brittany. There is not one household from Armorica, the land of the sea, that doesn’t get served this famous little gem. It is right up there, between the Breton Cake and the Kouign-amann, our famous multi layered super buttered national dessert. Breton Farz, or like the French call it “Far”, is normally made with tea soaked prunes inside and a dash of rum. It is basically a crêpe dough or batter, slowly baked. Everyone has a recipe back home! I decided to jazz the whole thing up with modern flavours, some 70% cocoa chocolate and a little something called Aronia, wonderful and tasty berries I planted two years ago; let’s say between a blueberry and a blackcurrant… Instead of the Farz being made in a big dish, I decided to make small ones; hence the name “Farzig” meaning little farz. I could also have called it “Farz Bihan”, bihan being “small” in Breton, a bit like the Irish “Beag”… See we are so close to each other, much more than one could think. But hey! Before I go any further… What are Aronia berries I hear you say? Well, let me explain…
It was a few years ago to the date, August 2010 in Dublin airport. I was picking up my Uncle and his wife for what was going to be their first visit in Ireland; the second time only I was going to meet him. This was a special moment, a reunification after so many years of tears and sorrow, questions unanswered and self inflicted silences. By hugging each other in the busy terminal, we were finally making peace on behalf of our own stubborn late mothers, unaware of the tragedies that had unfolded before our time, keepers of only a few pieces of a puzzle, fragments of broken lives; this jigsaw was going down!
Ok, ok, I know it’s a bit of a mouthful as far as titles go, but I couldn’t figure out a better way to put it. It was last Sunday, I was tidying the house you see, cleaning the windows, defrosting the freezer, you know the kind of stuff men are known to never undertake… uh? Well not me, every so often, a miracle happens and for some reason, I go nuts. As I was almost finished, I stumbled upon a bunch of bananas that was over ripe for my morning enjoyment, yet, not black enough for a banana cake… Dilemma!
Hungry Breton 