Southern Fried French

THE RULES for drinking in France: “It’s 5 o’clock Somewhere” Does Not Apply

The French love rules, and they are mine fields for unsuspecting ex-pats, until they learn the ropes. We had our first taste of THE RULES for drinking shortly after we moved into the château. One afternoon, we spontaneously invited a group of 10 or so French folks who were visiting Nicole and Pierre to come up and have a look at our apartment. It was 5-ish in the afternoon, so as everyone was standing around admiring the apartment, I said, “Would anyone care for a glass of wine”? There was silence, followed by startled looks all around, and then, “Merci, mais non”. It was clear we had made a social faux-pas, but how could that be?

I later quizzed Nicole, who admitted we had breached protocol. She proceeded to teach us THE RULES for drinking/serving alcohol, if one is to do it properly.

Rule number one : You ONLY drink wine with food. You may drink it with lunch, and then again in the evening beginning with apéritifs (served with a few munchies), but not until after the magic hour of 7:00.

We were confused. “In a café, in the heat of summer, you can’t order a glass of nice chilled white wine at 3:00, or even 5:00?”

Non. “At a café or bar,” Nicole said, “you may drink coffee or tea, or un sirope, or even a beer, but no wine until 7.”

Photo: Drinking beer in the afternoon--it's huge.

There was more. Apéritifs may be champagne or crémant (the local version of champagne), or white wine, never red. Red commences only with the serious food. The host always pours the wine (don't touch that bottle, even if it's in front of you), and a French hostess never pours wine—-even the very enlightened Nicole holds to this this one.

And here’s a really interesting rule: a pitcher of water is set on the table at a meal
but not normally offered, since offering it would subtly imply that the guest has
overindulged, and should perhaps make the switch. If you’re offered water, take note!

One more, which is quite a bother: At a party, you don’t pour the first drink until EVERYONE arrives. And the French are not known for their promptness. So very often, chez nous, when the early guests have arrived for a party Ron will cheerfully announce “American rules apply!” Is it just my imagination, or do even the French smile when they hear that illegal cork pop?

Photo, of our friend Dee: Women can't pour wine in France. There may be a backlash.

Why are the rules important? Well, évidemment, such a structure helps keeps abuse at bay. But also the drinking of wine, it turns out, is somewhat of a class distinction. Ouvriers (blue collar types) may be seen in the cafés having their petit blanc at a frighteningly early hour, and sometimes drink it throughout the day. Drinking wine at the improper time marks you as mal éléve-badly brought up--or worse.

It’s close to 5:00 now, think I’ll go have a coffee—-oh wait, there are a whole set of rules for that too! But that, dear readers, would fill up another entire post.

RECIPE: Roasted Pepper Toasts

So, it’s 7:00, time for that white wine, but you must serve it with food! Here is a quick little something to offer with apéros that you can make at the last minute, from ingredients that are probably in your cupboard. With a green salad on the side, it makes a nice starter or a light lunch, too.


1 can white beans
Olive oil
a lemon wedge
2 cloves of fresh garlic, chopped
1 jar roasted red and yellow peppers
Chopped fresh basil (chives or parsley will work too, or the green part of scallions)
Crackers or toasted baguette slices

Rinse and drain the white beans and put them in a food processor with the garlic, a tablespoon of olive oil, a splash of lemon juice, and some sea salt and ground pepper. Blend until smooth and the consistency of a spread, adding more olive oil if needed.

Drain peppers well, and chop.

Spread crackers or toasts with bean spread and top with peppers and chopped basil.

In the Comments this week: Mille mercies, y’all, for the thoughts on the lemon pasta recipe! Carol suggests clarified butter and explains fond de volaille; Jacqueline has a great idea—-meyer lemon oil! Tricia suggests adding an egg yolk to the sauce ( I tried it, it works well). Diane has a lemon tree so we may hear more from her. As for me, I’m going to veer off and add a bit of crème fraiche to cut the sharpness. Happy cooking!

World's Best Pasta: In Switzerland??

One reason we chose the east side of France is because it’s close to the main north/south autoroute, and so it’s easy zip over to Italy, our favorite tourist destination. But we’re closer to Switzerland, and travel there has been a delightful and unexpected surprise. It’s a country that has few parallels when it comes to natural beauty, and it’s full of lovely old towns with interesting architecture and history.

We took a long week-end last month and went to Fribourg, a walkable, charming town near Bern, the capital. The commercial area, pretty in its own right, is at the top of the hill, and deep in the valley is the quiet, medieval part of town. You can walk down and take the funicular back up. Here is a factoid I love about the city: the river divides the town into German and French speakers. On the French side they pronounce it free-boor and on the German side, fry-bourg. Love it that these sometimes contentious groups can’t even agree on the pronunciation of their city’s name.

For some whimsical fun: A museum called Espace Jean Tinguely-Niki de St.-Phalle, with fantastical works by a famous Fribourg kinetic artist. He makes these wonderful sculptures—contraptions really—that bump and grind, twirl and pivot. It’s participatory art, you push the button, and off it goes.

If you go: Switzerland in general is chic et chère, but we stayed in a great value hotel called the Faucon, on a nice rue piétonne (pedestrian street) right in the heart of the action, with newly renovated rooms (www.hotel-du-faucon.ch).

A RECIPE CHALLENGE: World’s Best Pasta Cook-off

Our favorite restaurant in Fribourg was Bindella (www.bindella.ch), an Italian restaurant which had that rare combination of fabulous food, stunning ambiance, and reasonable prices. I’m a closet vegetarian, so when I chose the cheese ravioli with lemon sauce, everyone rolled their eyes: boooring! By the end of the meal, they were in a fight for a bite. We agreed it was one of the best pasta dishes we’ve had, EVER.

I will describe it for you: homemade ravioli stuffed with ricotta, always good. But the sauce! Light but deeply and seriously lemony, then topped with the tiniest, crunchy croutons. We all puzzled over what gave it the intense flavor. Lemon zest? Preserved lemon? The taste was much stronger and richer than just lemon juice. Ron said, “Make this sauce!!”.

The next afternoon, I dropped by, hopeful. Luck was with me: The only person in the restaurant was the chef, who was sitting at the bar nursing a beer. I hopped on a bar stool and posed my question. “Lemon zest”, he told me. “ But here is the secret: you must first sauté it, maybe with a few shallots. Then you de-glaze the pan with lemon juice, perhaps a splash of wine, a little fond de volaille ( a sort of powdered bouillon) or bouillon, and reduce it. Very easy”, he said, finishing with a shrug.

Hah. I tried it at home. It was actually quite good, but it wasn’t the same. My skills don’t extend to homemade pasta (on my list to learn) and OK I didn’t have a baguette handy for the croutons, so I faked it with some frozen bread crumbs. It was quite good, but the sauce wasn’t quite that perfect sauce I sought.

Problems: How long do you cook the zest? It burns easily. Then how do you thicken it? My sauce was quite thin. His sauce was thicker and richer, and I suspect he was holding out on me---I think he added copious quantities of butter. He was, after all, on the French side of the river.

And so, mes amis, will anyone take up the challenge? To make the ultimate pasta with lemon sauce, using this concept, or a recipe of your own. I’m going to give it another try too. Allons-y!

RECIPE: My First Attempt At Lemon Pasta

Photo: The restaurant Bindella. Photo above this one: in front of the Hotel Faucon.

Here’s what I did, admittedly with only spaghetti in the pantry and homemade bread crumbs I had in the freezer.

for 2 servings:

Topping:
½ cup coarse bread crumbs from a baguette
1 tablespoon butter
¼ cup grated fresh parmesan
2 tablespoons chopped parsley

1/2 lb. of spaghetti (225 grams)
3 Tablespoons of butter, divided
Zest & juice of 2 lemons
1 small finely chopped shallot
2 teaspoons fond de volaille
1/3 cup white wine

Make topping: sauté bread crumbs in 1 tablespoon of butter, adding sea salt and ground pepper to taste, for 3 or 4 minutes or until lightly browned. Put them in a bowl and set aside to cool. Grate cheese and chop parsley, add to bread crumbs.

Cook pasta. Meanwhile, Sauté the zest and shallots in 1 tablespoon of butter on medium heat for about 2 minutes. Add juice and wine, stirring. Then stir in remaining butter, a tablespoon at a time. Pour over hot pasta on heated plates. Sprinkle topping over and serve hot.

Comments this past week: Joyce is cooking up fried summer squash patties and Rebecca tries a pear tart tatin. I’m hungry! Emily, by all means make the hash with zuchinni, or whatever veggies are in the frige, it’s that kind of recipe!

Don’t miss the new blog and recipe list, on the sidebar.

French Dirt, and A French Twist

I am lacking a gene that seems to be hard-wired into the French make-up. I don’t do vegetable gardening. But I greatly admire those who do. I’m an avid and enthusiastic flower gardener, though, and I love growing herbs and lettuces amongst the perennials. Pierre has kindly loaned me a couple of rows of his garden for veggies, but I haven’t had much luck with them.

In any case the markets are so seductive I don’t feel the need, except for one thing: the Europeans don’t know or grow my favorite vegetable, summer crookneck squash. Inspired by Nicole, the master delegator, I decided to ‘sub out’ my squash growing.

On our last trip to the states, I packed a dozen packets of squash seeds. One April day at the Saturday market, the meeting place for many of our European expat friends, I handed out seed packets at our table at the café. A new and exotic vegetable! Free seeds if you share your harvest! I had lots of takers.

Then, I tried my luck with two of the market vendors. One was skeptical, but he agreed. The other was bubbling with enthusiasm. He flags me down every week and speaks tenderly of the seedlings’ progress.

If you grow summer squash, you know they MUST be harvested early, when they are still smooth, small, and pale yellow, which I carefully explained to all my ‘suppliers’. So I was puzzled recently when one of the vendors told me my squash was ready. All I saw was a basket of giant, neon yellow, bumpy gourds. Oops. The other vendor did a bit better, but the squash were still fat and lumpy. “These don’t taste so good,” he said.

But I scored with my British friends Tony and Narissa: they delivered a large sack of perfect, pale beauties, which were delicious.

For my favorite squash casserole recipe, see the blog of August 5. Here is another recipe, a one-dish meal you can throw together in 15 minutes if you are lucky enough to have some of these yellow gems.

RECIPE: Southern Hash with a French Accent

When I first made ‘hash’ for Ron, he turned up his nose at the menu. He pictured the stuff that comes in a can, with corned beef. Nothing could be further from Southern Hash, which is basically meat or fish, fresh veggies, and potatoes, sautéed together in a black skillet. You can even leave out the meat. No need to measure or stress. The possibilities are endless, the gratification almost immediate.

A little French twist: I use French saucisses for this recipe: nature (mild), merguez (cumin, pepper), chipolata (thyme, sage, nutmeg), or herbes de Provence. Italian sausage or chicken sausages flavored with herbs make a nice substitute, but leftover chicken, pork, or salmon will work as well. Or, leave out the meat and maybe toss in some chopped tomatoes and/or fresh spinach at the last minute.

Olive oil
Yellow onions, coarsely chopped
Summer squash, sliced
Red pepper, sliced
Italian or other sausages with herbs, sliced
Small potato wedges, cooked (leftover roasted or baked potatoes, or bake first in microwave)
Fresh garlic, chopped
1 egg per person
A splash of white wine
Fresh basil and/or parsley, chopped (or dried herbes de Provence)
Grated fresh parmesan

Heat olive oil in black skillet until it shimmers. (I tend to cook this on relatively high heat, but adjust as you go). Sauté onions, peppers, and sausage together for a couple of minutes, then add squash and cook until squash is almost tender. Meanwhile, poach eggs.

Add potatoes and garlic to skillet, cook until potatoes brown up a bit. Dish it up on warm plates, and drizzle with a little more olive oil if desired. Top each plate with a poached egg. Sprinkle with fresh herbs and parmesan. Serve it in the garden with a crisp white wine, though a cold beer would not be a bad idea either.

OK y’all, does anyone else make hash? I was curious, so I googled it and came up with everything from Progressive Farmer’s favorite hash (very basic, shortening was involved) to a fancy one with crab, and even a curried turkey one. There is also bbq pork hash, but that, dear readers, is a different story all together.

NEW THIS WEEK: A list of all the blogs and recipes, see the sidebar. Also, I'm gradually adding to the FAQ section. You've asked for a cost comparison between living in the US and France, and also what we miss most from home. I've added some answers, today on the FAQ's page.

Last Summer Fling at the Bistros

This fine French summer is about to become a sweet memory, as La rentrée has arrived. Since all of Europe seems to take their vacation at the same time, La rentrée is a very big deal. It’s the date when kids go back to school, tout le monde goes back to work, and real life returns to reclaim the life of leisure. The weather doesn’t know it yet, though; it’s warm and glorious, the roses blush and flush, and the terraces of the cafés and brasseries are still in full summer swing. A friend visiting Europe for the first time remarked to me, “People sure sit around and drink a lot here, don’t they?” Why yes they do, and there’s nothing better than hanging out for lunch, or an afternoon, in the shade of a parasol at a bistro.

And in summer, the thing to order here is a main dish salad. They are the preferred French bistro lunch, and they’re huge and colorful and wonderful. I’m not ready to part with them just yet.

Here are some popular salads you might encounter at a French bistro: Salade Exotique (shrimp, avocado, pineapple, endive), Salade de Gésiers (sautéed duck gizzards, very yummy), Cruidités (a plate of veggies like shredded carrots, tomatoes, boiled eggs, potatoes, beets), Salade Fruits de Mer (smoked salmon, shrimp, mussels, veggies), or Salade Gourmande (‘greedy’ salad: bacon, foie gras, sliced duck breast).

To make any of these French salads, just do this: Take a very large plate, maybe a charger. Mound it with a generous quantity of good quality greens. Roquette (arugula) is often mixed in, for a peppery punch. Then arrange your favorite French ingredients on top, garnish with something pretty in the middle, and drizzle with vinaigrette. Et voila! A lovely lunch that is irresistible. And maybe healthy, maybe not (SEE Salade Gourmande).

We had lunch one day this summer on the terrace of our English friends Pete and Dee, and Dee served up a smorgasbord of salads, family style, mostly with produce from their large potager. This is the way we love to eat in summer, and she has a passel of easy salads in her repertoire. Here are three of the recipes the Salad Queen made for that lovely meal, as fresh and tasty as the last days of summer.

RECIPES: Dee’s Summer Salads

White Bean and Haricot Vert Salad with Tomatoes: Steam green beans until tender crisp, then plunge into ice water to cool and retain color; drain well. Put beans in large bowl and add a can of white beans, drained. Add some chopped and seeded tomatoes, and some cooked corn (canned, frozen, or cut off the cob if you’re ambitious). Toss with French dressing #1 (see blog, June 17) to which you have added some crushed garlic, and plenty of chopped fresh basil, or your favorite fresh herbs.

Tossed melon salad with Creamy Herb Dressing: Mix fresh, mild lettuces like butter and bibb lettuce in a bowl. Add lots cantaloupe, cut into bite-sized chunks. For the dressing, mix well equal parts of French Dressing #1 and plain yogurt, plus a handful of chopped mint, parsley, and a touch of fresh tarragon.

Beet, Apple, and Walnut Salad: Arrange lettuce on a platter. In center put a mound of cooked beets, cut small, surrounded by sliced apples tossed with lemon juice. Sprinkle toasted walnuts over all and drizzle with walnut oil and raspberry vinegar.

In the Comments this past week: Some new tomato recipes from Trevor and Genie, and a one-star chef makes an amuse bouche. More flea market stories, and many thanks to Karen for a new source on where to find the brocantes! And back on the “Pardon my French’ blog Comments section, Susan has her own fish story to tell. Merci à tous!

Cruising in the Brocante-Mobile

PHOTO You can get it Here: Bras 1 euro, thongs only 50 centimes.

What do you do all day in France? Our friends back in the states are always curious. Well, Saturday is (veggie) market day, and on Sundays, April through October, toute le monde goes to another sort of marché: Brocantes, or les puces (flea markets). On any given week-end there will be a dozen or so within an hour’s drive, as nearly every village has one yearly. The villagers empty their attics, and a few traveling professionals unpack their vans full of antiques. The villagers also man the buvette, seducing shoppers with grilled sausages, pommes frites, and waffles under a tent with long tables. Sometimes there is an accordion player wandering among the brightly colored parasols of the vendors. There are plenty of kids, dogs, spirited bartering, and a general air of festivity. The sleepy, historic villages of southern Burgundy are beautiful, and it’s a great way to see the area, and maybe score a bargain as well.

Our friends Monty and Ali have a van which holds six, definitely a Party Car, and on Sundays it often morphs into the Brocante-Mobile, with lots of room for purchases. At our market café the day before, we plot our route with friends. There are 3 ways to find out where the flea markets, which are all over France, can be found each Sunday: special on-line sites which list them (google ‘puces’ and the name of the department you’re visiting), the local newspaper’s petites announces (classified ads), and a little book you can find at any bookstore here called L’agenda des Brocantes, published annually for each region of France. We check all three to be sure we know all the choices, then we pick two or three villages to hit that are in the same general area. We connive to arrive before our Dutch friend Rudy, a professional dealer with a great eye who has been known to scarf up all the good stuff before we get there.

As my friend Darlene always says, “It’s mostly junk, but it’s fascinating because it’s French junk”. So true! There are toys, antique or everyday porcelain, vintage linens and lace, home accessories of dubious taste, tools new and old, and everything else you can think of. Some of my finds this summer: a cute set of red and white espresso cups (3 euros); a set of exquisite oversized embroidered linen napkins (15 euros); and a used pink bicycle for my granddaughter (8 euros). The guys wander a bit but most of them end up sipping wine in the shade at the buvette, while the girls hit it hard, hoping to unearth that one hidden trésor. To leave empty handed would be rare, as would making a great impact on your wallet.

Photo: I considered a colander, which monsieur graciously modeled for me.

Today I spot something I want to buy for Ron, an old screw driver with a pretty wooden handle, smoothed by years of use and with the maker’s initials burned into the wood. Monsieur the vendor, bien installé in a sagging deck chair in the sun, is sound asleep, and must be roused for the purchase. He awakens with a loud snort and sheepishly accepts my 2 euros.

When we’ve all admired each other’s purchases and loaded them up, we hop into the Brocante-Mobile to find the best local restaurant (did you know you can load the Michelin guide onto your iPhone? Fantastic). And we’re off to partake of that other great French institution, Sunday lunch. Followed by une petite sieste, of course---a perfect French Sunday.

Photo: The stressful life of a vendor requires a nap as well.

Switching over to markets of the culinary kind, the summer tomatoes have arrived, everyone’s favorite food. We feast on them daily, as you most likely do. But when you’ve had your third Caprese salad of the week, it’s time to branch out. Here are five ideas—but we’re hungry for more! Please share yours by clicking on Comments below , or go to the Share a Recipe section.

RECIPES: 5 Easy Pieces, starring Summer Tomatoes

Tomatoes Baked with Goat Cheese: Pascale, who lives in my friend Ellen’s village, taught her this easy trick: Slice a big summer tomato in half and scoop out the interior (and save it for your brushetta). Fill the interior with a plump morsel of very fresh goat cheese, and bake for about 30 minutes in a 375(190c) degree oven. Top with parsley. This makes a great starter for a dinner party.

When I tried it, I sautéed bread crumbs in butter with some finely chopped shallots and put this on top before I baked it.

Ron’s favorite Tomato Pie: In a glass pie plate, layer slices of tomato with very thin slices of sweet onions, like Vidalias, and a cup of cheddar cheese. Repeat layers, ending with cheese. Beat two eggs well with salt and pepper, and pour over all. Top with bread crumbs and bake at 325 (160c) for 35 to 40 minutes.

Monty’s Tomato Tart: Roll out store-bought puff pastry on a cookie sheet or pizza pan, nice and thin like you were making a pizza, crimping edges. Prick with fork, cover with foil, add pie weights. Bake 10 minutes, remove weights and foil. Spread with grainy mustard. Top with sautéed onions, then tomato slices. Drizzle with olive oil. Sprinkle with salt and pepper, herbs de Provence, and a light sprinkling of grated mild cheese (like swiss or gruyère). Bake for 20 minutes at 350(175c) degrees.

Tomato and Haricort Vert Salad: Steam beans until tender-crunchy and plunge into ice water; drain well. Mix beans with some homemade mayonnaise, to which you’ve added an extra dab of grainy mustard. Arrange on a platter and make a well in the center. Mound tomato wedges in the center. Sprinkle beans with toasted walnuts, and tomatoes with chopped parsley, to garnish.

Tomato Crudités: Slice tomatos onto a big platter. Arrange some thinly sliced red onions over the top, and finely chopped shallots. Put a fan of sliced avocados in the center along with a few radishes, and wedges of hard boiled eggs around the edges. Sprinkle all with fresh basil and drizzle with walnut oil and lemon juice, good sea salt and ground pepper. Pray for endless summer.

In the Comments section the past week: lots of new ways to drink ice tea, including something called an Arnold Palmer, and with vodka (why not?). Plus cats, & dogs too: some shout-outs to the expat cat, and Carol encounters a hush puppy in New Jersey.