Southern Fried French

To Cork or Not to Cork? A Vigneron in Provence Looks to the Future

 
This week we have a treat for you: a guest post by Jean-Marc Espinasse,  vigneron of Domaine Rouge-Bleu in Provence.  Uncork (unscrew?) a bottle of wine, pour yourself a glass, and settle in for an interesting read from a  French wine-grower on the cutting edge.

First up, his bio: I fell in love with wine when my uncle decided to get, 20 years ago, three vine parcels in Chateauneuf-du-Pape to re-create the family vineyard, Domaine du Banneret, which originally dates back from many centuries. As a CPA, I initially made the financial plans for the loans and participated in the first and and all harvests. It was during this joyful epoch that I met with my future American wife, Kristin, author of the blog French Word A Day. I then started then to offer my uncle's wines to US importers and decided to quit numbers to embrace the wine world. Now, besides Domaine du Banneret, I distribute a portfolio of "boutique" french wines to US importers.

 In my dreams, I have often imagined that running a small vineyard just by myself would actually be a realistic project. And whereas I was not expecting it to happen, I was offered in November 2006, 25 acres of old vines with a great potential "terroir". Domaine Rouge-Bleu was born...

4 years after, we sell out our entire production, mostly to the US and to the high end distribution side. Besides wine, I am in love with Mother Nature, U2 band and before all my Dear family.

Lately, you may be asking yourself why screw caps and synthetic corks have replaced some of the natural corks in bottled wine. In fact, there are many reasons :

The most obvious reason for this is the elimination of the taste that cork can bring to wine ["cork taint"] which is so frustrating, particularly when the bottle is a special one.

Another explanation comes from the fact that world production of natural cork is limited, especially these last years, as Portugal, which is the leading producer, has been ravaged by fires that have destroyed a great part of these cork oak trees.

At the same time, world production of wines has not ceased to grow with the arrival of wines from the new world (North America, Chile, Australia, South Africa...and now India and China). So it was necessary to find other solutions for sealing bottles of wine.

But the main reason comes from the actual utility of the cork. Originally, it permitted not only closure of the bottle but also for the wine to be in slight contact with the air, and therefore age slowly and in the best conditions. It should be noted that in the past (up until the 80's), wines were made to age a few years before being appreciated at their best behavior. The natural cork, therefore, had its usefulness.

Today, wine consumption habits have greatly changed. We buy wine at 7 PM and drink it at 7:30 PM. If that's not such a typical scenario, then one should simply note that wines are quickly consumed. And for this, they must be made in such a way that enables them to be appreciated young. These wines are less concentrated, more fragile regarding oxidation and won't get better with aging. Plastic corks or even better screw caps which are almost hermetic, permit these wines to keep their freshness and fruity taste and will also better protect them from oxidation which might degrade them. Of course, this reasoning is not to be used for great wines (ones which should be aged) which continue to be sealed with real cork as they do have the ability to breathe and let the wine evolve throughout the years. That is actually why very old bottles need to have their cork replaced and, at the same time to be filled up with the little wine which went to angels through the cork.

Plastic cork enables marketing, which has become so important in commercial aspects, to express itself, notably by the range of colors and by a personal logo which is easier to create on the plastic cork.

But for people who care about environment, plastic is not always well seen (even if it recycles easily) and that is why the screw cap is now the closure system which has developed the most. One of the issue with screw caps is that it was often associated with cheap wines. But this is now over as some of the most prestigious vineyards, in New Zealand first and now even in Alsace, use this system to bottle 100 US $ bottles of wine.

Now, if you have plastic-corked bottles hanging around your cellar, hurry up and drink them fast without scruples...

Cheers,

Jean-Marc Espinasse

"PS tip" : Sometimes it is not easy to know if a wine is corked. If you have a doubt, pour a little amount of the questioned wine in a glass and add the same amount of water in the same glass. Compare the "flavors” with a glass of 100ml of the questioned wine. If the wine is corked, the cork "flavor" will explode in the wine-water sample. If it is not corked, this scent will disappear in the wine-water sample and you will just need to aerate the wine in a carafe for a while before drinking it.

Don’t miss the blogs and bottles at Jean-Marc’s Domaine Rouge-Bleu, and his wife Kristin’s French-Word a Day blog.

And now, cozy up with a bottle  of Rouge-Bleu and a steaming pot roast with red wine that will do it justice.

 

RECIPE:  Burgundy Pot Roast

This recipe is my cross between an American-style pot roast and Boeuf Bourguignon. It’s not essential but nice to cook it a day or two ahead so the flavors can blend. It freezes well too.  If your pot won’t go in the oven, you can cook it on top of the stove.

Serves 4-6.

• Vegetable oil
• A 2 pound (.9 kg) rolled chuck roast
• 2 large onions, chopped
• 4 garlic cloves, minced
• 1 stalk celery, chopped
• 1 large can whole tomatoes, with juice (28oz, 800gr)
• ¼ cup wine vinegar
• 1 tablespoon packed brown sugar
• 1 bay leaf
• Leaves from 2 sprigs of thyme
• 1 ½ cup dry red wine
• 2 cups beef broth, or water
• 1 pound (.45 kg) carrots, sliced 3/4” thick
• 1 pound (.45kg) small red potatoes, quartered
• 1 tablespoon cornstarch, mixed with a bit of cold water

 

Pre-heat oven to 350 degrees (175C).  Pat the beef dry and season with salt and pepper. In a heavy, ovenproof pot, brown it in the oil over medium high heat on all sides, then remove from pan.  To the pan add onions and celery, cook about 5 minutes and add garlic for one more minute, stirring. Stir in nremaining ingredients except for carrots and potatoes, bring to boil, and put the beef back in. 

Put pot in oven, covered, and cook 30 minutes; add carrots and cook 30 more minutes.  Add potatoes and cook another hour or more, until beef and vegetables are tender.  (At this point cool it and refrigerate or freeze, if not serving immediately).

Heat shallow individual serving bowls.  Move beef to cutting board, then skim fat from stew and bring to boil. Stir in the cornstarch mixture if needed, a little at a time, until sauce is at desired consistency. Reduce heat, simmer a couple of minutes, remove bay leaf, and add salt and pepper to taste.  Slice beef and place in large shallow bowls. Put vegetables around beef, using slotted spoon.  Spoon sauce over all, and garnish with plenty of parsley.  

In the Comments this past week: Lots of thoughts on "The Guys" and their camionette.  "Bless their little cotton socks" says Maureen.  And, some chat, and questions, about leeks.  Hope everyone had a Happy Thanksgiving! 

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Unless otherwise attributed, all POSTS, PHOTOS and RECIPES on this blog copyright ©2010 Lynn McBride.  All Rights Reserved.

 

 

“3 Men & A Truck”, Filling a Niche Market in France

Photo:  "3 Men & A Truck" on the job: Ron, Monty the American, Pete the Brit

 People often ask us, “So you live in France--what do you do all day?”  In particular they ask this of my husband Ron, who is fully retired.  And his answer is, apart from café-sitting, dining, wine-tasting, cycling, traveling, and helping Pierre with château maintenance, that he has a small business.   He and two other Anglo buddies are bricoleurs extraordinaire (fabulous handymen), and they call their business “3 Men & a Truck”.

For you to understand their business model, first I must digress and tell you something about French enterprises, shops, small businesses, etc.  The following is a list of the times that they are generally closed:

1.  All Mondays, and of course Sundays;

2.  Wednesday afternoons;  

3.  All remaining days, between 12 and 2 (or 3, or 4) for lunch;  

4.  The entire month of August (often spills over into July) 

5. All holidays (there are MANY); 

6. And last of all, the pesky Fermeture Exceptionnelle (translation: “Anytime we darn well please”).  This one occurs especially when you’ve made a special trip to a distant store.

As you may have deduced, though the French will eat or drink with you any time, they conspire to prevent you from shopping or getting home improvements or any other work done that you might require.

Seeing a need, “3 Men & A Truck” decided to boldly step in and fill the gap. Therefore they are available, for any sort of briclolage, odd jobs, home repair emergencies, etc.,  exclusively during these times:

 Mondays in the month of August between 12 and 2.

They figure that there is absolutely NOBODY in the whole country available during these particular hours, so they have cornered this niche market.  Understandably, their hourly rate, given such exclusivity, is extravagant.  They’ve had no takers yet, but expect to when the word gets out.  In the meantime, for lucky friends, their rate is this:  Will Work for Lunch.  Photo: "3 Men & A Truck" take their work very seriously.

There are many occasions when “3 Men & A Truck” have worked long and hard on projects chez nous, which means I provide The Lunch.  A hearty, man-pleasing meal is required after a full morning of work, so here is side dish (to go with a fat roast chicken or some guy-sized pork chops), that might work for you, should you be blessed with some benevolent bricoleurs.  This is also my Thanksgiving present to y’all, as it is fabulous for that particular feast. I know there are many non-Americans among you, but hey, everybody needs a day whose only purpose is to count your blessings!  To Ron, Pete, and Monty:  Bless your Hearts.  And to all my Dear Readers:  Happy Turkey Day next week!

 

RECIPE:  Creamed Leek Gratin

Before I came to France, leeks intimidated me a bit and I didn’t much use them.  The French love them; you’ll see them carrying away armloads of them at the markets.  Now they’re one of our favorite vegetables.

Normally for this blog I develop my own recipes. This one, however, is by Paul Grimes from the late great Gourmet Magazine (What were they THINKING? We can only console ourselves with their excellent cookbook ).  I can’t improve on this dish one little bit.  Well, maybe one could stir a bit of freshly grated parmesan into those bread crumbs…

 

Serves 4 3 1/2 lb (1.6kg) leeks, root ends trimmed 2 cups coarse fresh bread crumbs (from a country loaf) 3/4 teaspoon salt 3/8 teaspoon black pepper 3/4 stick (6 tablespoons, 85g) unsalted butter 1 cup heavy cream Put oven rack in middle position and preheat oven to 450°F (230 C). Cut most of green part off of each leek (discard) and then halve the the white parts lengthwise. Then cut crosswise into roughly1 ½" (4cm) pieces. (You should have about 8 cups.) Wash leek pieces in a large bowl of cold water, agitating them, then lift out and transfer to another bowl. Repeat with clean water, then drain leeks well. Cook bread crumbs with 1/4 teaspoon salt and 3/4 teaspoon pepper in half the butter in a heavy skillet over moderate heat, stirring, until crisp and pale golden, 3 to 4 minutes. Remove from heat. Cut out a round from parchment or wax paper to fit just inside a 12-inch heavy skillet. Cook leeks with remaining 1/2 teaspoon salt and 1/4 teaspoon pepper in remaining 3 tablespoons butter in a 12-inch (30cm) heavy skillet over moderately low heat, leeks covered directly with parchment, stirring occasionally, until tender, about 12 minutes. Discard parchment and transfer leeks with a slotted spoon to 1 ½ quart (1.4 liter) gratin dish (about 10x8”). Pour cream slowly over leeks, then scatter bread crumbs on top. Bake until cream is bubbling and slightly thickened and crumbs are golden brown, about 15 minutes. (My note:  I always seem to need a bigger skillet, or use two if need be). •Bread crumbs can be cooked one day ahead and cooled completely, uncovered, then kept in an airtight container at room temperature. Scatter bread crumbs over leeks just before baking. •Leeks can be cooked and assembled in dish with cream (but not sprinkled with crumbs and baked) 1 day ahead and cooled completely, uncovered, then chilled, covered.

 

Unless otherwise attributed, all POSTS, PHOTOS and RECIPES on this blog copyright ©2010 Lynn McBride.  All Rights Reserved. 

Getting Up Close and Personal with Dinner

Photo:  Cow fields are prime territory for mushroom picking in La Bourgogne.

It’s quiet on our country roads here, but from time to time we see cars pulled over by the side of the road, in the middle of nowhere.  This means we need to be alert:  the hunter/gatherers are out and about. 

The hunters, we avoid (they’ve been known to drink and hunt, which doesn’t improve their aim).  But when we see The Gatherers, we follow suit.  It’s truly a thing of beauty, they way everyone is so connected to the land here, and kids grow up knowing exactly where their food comes from.  In spring The Gatherers  will be scouring the forests for the thin and dainty wild asparagus. In summer they'll be foraging for blackberries for a confiture.  And in the fall, they are in pursuit of the beloved French fungi.  Almost everyone participates.

To gather wild champignons and survive the experience, one must have a little knowledge.  There are many varieties in the woods, so you must know your pleasures and poisons.  Anywhere in France, however, you may take your harvest to the nearest pharmacy, where they will screen it for the villains that will sicken, or even kill you (there are in fact a few deaths each year).

If you really want to play it safe, avoid the woods and gather the most common variety here in Burgundy, les Rosé des prés.  These grow in most every cow field in damp weather, where they are well fertilized. They’re easy to identify by their white hats and pink gills, and you can quickly fill up a basket with enough to make a big batch of mushroom soup and have plenty left for friends or freezer.   Photo:  Rosé des prés mushrooms from the fields at the château.

It's France--of course there are rules! The local préfecture decides where and when you can gather mushrooms, though I don’t think anyone pays much attention; every cow field here is fair game.  Other regulations:  they must be a certain size, you must cut them with a knife at the base to minimize damage, and gather them in a wicker basket so the spores can fall and propagate.

Or take the really easy way out:  the French markets are full of baskets of beautiful mushrooms of numerous varieties.   They are of course endlessly versatile in the kitchen.

The other day Nicole cooked mushrooms for us, with that most simple of preparations: sautéed with loads of butter, garlic and parsley.  It’s a dish I love, with the fall mushrooms in a starring role (suggestions below), though it makes a great side dish as well.

For more info, here's a fun book: Chanterelle Dreams, Amanita Nightmares: The Love, Lore, and Mystique of Mushrooms.

 

RECIPE:  Mushroom Mélange sautéed with garlic and parsley

Photo: Fat  cèpes, curly girolles, and the tiny ones are chanterelles gris.

Gather a mixture of fresh mushrooms from your local market or gourmet grocery store.  Wash them (fine to wash them in water) and drain well.   Slice.

Melt a good quantity of butter in a black cast-iron skillet and sauté mushrooms over medium heat, stirring.  They will release their liquid.  Keep cooking until all of liquid has cooked off and mushrooms are nicely browned, adding a bit more butter as they dry.  When done, add several cloves of minced garlic , and sauté for a minute longer.  Add sea salt, pepper, and lots of fresh parsley and serve hot.

You can serve these as a side dish or over a steak, but they make a nice main course as well.  I like to ladle them over baked cheese grits (see recipe, post of 4/2010).  They are also good served over toast points, popovers, or a baked potato, split open.  Or, make mushroom bruschetta by spreading them over toasted baguette slices (cut them up fine for this).

Highlights from 'Comments' this week:  Natalia, Mark, and Pete have firsthand experience with matters of the pig, and Pete’s pig was ‘the gentleman who paid the rent’!  Patricia wants to  paint the confit jars, and if you haven’t taken a peek at this American artist’s work (she lives in Italy), please head over to  her website . Back to the coffee post of the week before, Jacqui is also raving about her Nespresso Machine. And thank you ALL for your nice comments about the blog, which keep me going!

Unless otherwise attributed, all POSTS, PHOTOS and RECIPES on this blog copyright ©2010 Lynn McBride.  All Rights Reserved. 

A Chatelaine’s Tale of Pigs and Pottery

Illustration by José Reis de Matos, http://jrmdessin.blogspot.com/

I’m not much of a collector, but I do have one passion which I suppose would put me in that category: old, rustic French confit jars, the Provençal ones made of clay that are round and fat with tiny handles,  and a gold or green band on the top half of the pot.

I adore their drippy, colorful glazes, the weathered terra cotta exposed at the bottom, their plump, pleasing  shape.  I like that each one is different, and designed with such thoughtful beauty for a practical use. But I never completely understood how they were used.  I saw confit of duck, for example, on the menus here, but never quite got the term.  My French dictionary defines confit  simply as “potted meat”.

One early fall day while Nicole and I were cooking in the summer kitchen together, my question was answered.  We were stirring up a big stew over Nicole’s huge wood-burning stove, the luscious smell drifting out of the French doors into the sunny courtyard.  It was a lazy day, perfect for musing over cooking memories from autrefois, days past.   Nicole grew up in the pretty town of Pau in the southwest part of France, and her grandmother lived on a country road where there were only two other houses. She told me the story of the big festive fall event there:  the killing of the pigs.

These were the days before refrigeration, so pigs were killed in November, when it was cool.  One family killed a pig, and hams and sausages were prepared, cooked and stored by all three families.  Then the next family would kill their pig, and the process was repeated.  With this shared bit of work, each family was set for the winter.

 The various cuts of meat were stored in  huge confit jars, along with a cooked duck or two and perhaps a goose.  They were covered with the rendered fat, which was thick, yellow, and gelatinous. This preserved the meat and also tenderized and flavored it.  Any leftover small bits were stored separately, also in fat, and these are called rillettes (rillettes can be any meat or fish which is mashed up with fat to form a paté or a spread).

Every Sunday, for that luncheon which is the celebratory family meal of the week, la grand-mère would roll her sleeve up all the way and reach deep down into the thick fat of the confit jar.  The first thing she pulled out would be Sunday dinner.  The main course, then, was always a surprise.

Nicole loaned me a fabulous cookbook called Cochon & Fils by her friend Stéphane Reynaud, which includes an exhaustive history of the tradition of killing a pig, using every morsel.  I was going to offer his recipe for confit de cochon, but  I feared for your lives.  It has basically 3 ingredients: pork chops (not lean ones), an enormous slab of bacon, and a great quantity of duck fat. A meat-lover’s dream to be sure, but I chose instead to go with a luscious one-dish saucisse recipe with lots of vegetables, though it’s not really lowfat.  The French aren’t at all afraid to cook with copious quantities of fat, but then they’re skinny and live the longest, so there you go. Some Sunday, then, if you should roll up your sleeves, dip into your freezer, and come up with sausages, this is just the ticket.

 

 RECIPE:  Gratin de Saucisses de Montbéliard, Tian de Legumes au Thym ( Smoked Sausage Gratin on a Tian of Vegetables, with Thyme), from Cochon & Fils

Photo:  Ready for the oven,  Msr. Reynaud's French comfort food

Serves 6

• 6 Saucisses de Montbéliard (use any smoked sausage, like kielbasa, 2 lb  or 1 kg)
• 2 small eggplants
• 6 tomatoes
• 4 zucchini
• 3 large onions
• 6 sprigs of fresh thyme
• 4 bay leaves
• 6 cloves of garlic, coarsely chopped
• 2 tablespoons (25 grams) of butter, melted 
• 1/3 cup. (100ml) of good olive oil
• 2/3 cup (200ml) of white wine
• Sea salt

Cut all vegetables into thin rounds.  In a baking dish, arrange them in alternating rows, standing them up vertically.  Add the butter.  Remove the thyme leaves and add, tuck in the bay leaves and sprinkle with the garlic.  Add the wine and olive oil.  Prick the sausages all over so that their fat will flavor the vegetables, and put them on top. Cover the dish and bake for one hour at 325 degrees (160 C).  Season after cooking with sea salt.

(My note:  Do not salt before cooking. I uncovered this toward the end and turned up the heat a bit.  It will be juicy; dish it out with a slotted spoon, or serve in a shallow bowl with the juices. Serve it with Dijon mustard if you like, or pass the grated Parmigiano-reggiano and ground pepper).

In the Comments this week:  Jon-Henri, Natalie, and Monty have café stories of their own to tell.  Maureen correctly points out that it’s ‘espresso’ in English (and Italian); I used the French spelling, expresso. Johnny bemoans the ubiquitous disposable coffee cup in the US, me too. And even Mickey, my mom who hates to cook, gets frisky with the recipe.  Kristin, our Nespresso machine has been on vacation too!  In the previous week’s post, the comments continue: Suzanne’s bread question clarified, and Mark and Nicole chat about Morocco. 

I hope you’ll check out my article in the October issue of France Magazine on the village of La Turbie, on the Côte d’Azur.

Unless otherwise attributed, all POSTS, PHOTOS and RECIPES on this blog copyright ©2010 Lynn McBride.  All Rights Reserved.