Southern Fried French

Side Trip: Romancing the Raffles

Since notre aniée (the French term for oldest daughter), recently moved to Australia with her family, we spent Christmas in the southern hemisphere, where instead of snow we had palm trees and sparkling skies.  To break up the brutal flight, we made a stopover in Singapore.  In this orderly land of orchids and omnipresent street food, the first stop is always the famous Raffles Hotel.  Built on the waterfront in 1877, it was named after Singapore’s founder and frequented by the likes of Rudyard Kipling, Noel Coward, and Somerset Maugham.

Nothing embodies the romantic, louche lifestyle of the British Colonial era like the Raffles.  Picture arched loggias, ceiling fans languidly spinning, amidst a garden of palms and tropical blooms.  Imagine bringing out your best jewels for dinner and deep conversation in the garden with the litterati and the glitterati, followed by waltzing to the live band long into the night.  In the hot afternoons one sips Singapore Slings--a Raffles invention---in the dark, cool, Long Bar, a favorite hang-out of Joseph Conrad and Ernst Hemingway.

The last time I was there (decades ago), we had a drink in the famous Long Bar, but the rest of the place was closed for renovation.  Like many legendary institutions, this one  has given way to modernization.  Skyscrapers now form the backdrop of the lush gardens. The hotel is still luxe but has been renovated to within an inch of its life; and instead of string quartets on the veranda in the drowsy heat of early afternoon, pop music is piped in from speakers in a shiny new courtyard.  And to try the traditional Singapore Sling in the Long Room?  Well, these days that will set you back $30 a drink.  They did have a nice little museum, though, where you could dream over the lavish Raffles lifestyle, back in the day.  Photos above, from the Raffles museum.  Below, the newly renovated Raffles.

  There’s nothing to say we can’t try the Singapore Sling chez nous, however.  Perfect for a hot afternoon after hunting elephants or whatever, but better plan time for une petite sieste afterwards!

 

RECIPE:  The Raffles Hotel's Singapaore Sling

This recipe from Food.com claims to be the orginal.  Have one if you're dreaming of summer.

1 1/2 ounces gin
1/2 ounce cherry heering
1/4 ounce Cointreau liqueur
1/4 ounce benedictine
4 ounces pineapple juice
1/2 ounce lime juice
1/3 ounce grenadine
1 dash bitters

Shake with ice, strain into a tall glass, and serve with a cherry and a slice of pineapple.

Favorite Reads:  Shelf Pleasure is a new site about books for women with reviews, a book club, and more.  You might want to read my interview with the founders over at the Daily Basics.  

Friends in Burgundy have renovated a gite, all spiffed up and ready to go.  Read about Les Volets Bleu here.

Under The Tower: From the new book "A French Opportunity"

I am very pleased today to share a guest post from one of our readers, Debbie Ambrous.  I met Debbie through this blog, and she has has just published a book called A French Opportunity, about her voyage from small-town Alabama to her beloved France.  Here is Debbie's story:

I admit that I am infatuated with France.  My friends say I must have French bloodlines, with the shadow of castle towers in my background and a previous pathway of ancient cobblestones.

South Alabama blood flows slowly in my veins, with the shadow of the giant Opp, Alabama water tower looming in my past, not castle towers or the Eiffel Tower! My pathway was strewn with sawdust from Daddy’s cabinet shop, not centuries-old stones in a historic lane.  I love it all just the same!  While Daddy’s saws were buzzing and whirling my imagination was soaring to foreign, exotic, enticing parts of the world.  My feet touched many of those places, but the one that seems most like a second home to me is France.

I try to add a petite dab of French mystique with a bit of French accent on the Ambrous name since it isn’t spelled as the typical, ordinary Ambrose.  When I hear, “Where ya’ll from?” I find myself saying with a tilt upward of my nose, “My husband’s family is from France.”  Husband Jim’s accent leaves no doubt that any French nobility or serfs in his bloodline were conceived many years ago.  He throws cold water on my castles in the air image when he blurts out, “We’re from Opp, Alabama, but she fell on her head when we crossed the Seine in Paris, and she hasn’t been the same since.” 

In my book, A French Opportunity, Jim and I stay in a beautiful farmhouse in the Loire valley at Brehemont.This wonderful home with owners from Alabama was our starter house in France.  How fortunate we were! 

We travel further south to Burgundy, Dordogne and the Lot.  We are continually drawn to the warmth of the farmhouses at La Prairie. 

Luxurious Chateau hotels are a decadent treat occasionally so I can improve my mystique and shake some of the sawdust from my Alabama feet, but it’s the surprises along the way that we enjoy most of all.  The following is an excerpt from the book about a trip to a Langeais, France market:

 

If we had lingered much longer (at breakfast), we would have missed the market.  I didn’t know that it started so early.  The parking lot next to the market had some extra excitement.  A chicken was loose and three people were chasing it from car to car.  It would hide behind the wheel of a Peugeot and just as they started to grab it, it would shoot out the other side squawking its cry of freedom and chicken dancing across the pavement to the flower hedges. I was laughing so hard that Jim said I sounded like a cackling hen on the loose too. The chicken rustlers finally got the hen without my help, although I wanted to join the roundup.  I thought I could put that on my list of lifetime achievements.  When the chicken was back in its coop the lady vendor stood next to me and laughingly said something in French.  I don’t speak French but I believe it went something like this, “Back on the farm, that hen wouldn’t walk to the other side of the barn to see the Brad Pitt of the rooster kingdom, but when we took her out of the coop, she flew out of there like a feather duster on speed.  Go figure!  If I had known that I had to chase a crazy chicken in the parking lot, I would have stayed home and introduced that hen’s neck to the Marie Antoinette treatment.”  

Jim wouldn’t let me buy a live chicken.  Instead, I bought green beans, tomatoes, eggs, raspberries and pretty purple and yellow pansies to plant in the garden. How could I ignore the photo opportunities?  A large red-faced man with a few teeth missing was animatedly selling huge heads of cauliflower that were heaped on the bed of a small blue truck. Then we had the Victoria Secret market.  Girdles hung on display with extra heavy-duty brassieres, probably like the ones my Grandmother wore.  Now, don’t expect me to wear those under my simple housedress if I ever live my country home dream!  

 

Debbie, many thanks for sharing your French experience with us.  You can buy Debbie's book, A French Opportunity, in the kindle edition  or in paperback.

In the COMMENTS:  Our last post, "French Confections of the Lustful Kind", made Julie gain weight just reading it.  Suzanne, why DON'T French women get fat, with all these goodies? (I did try to explain it in this previous post, but I'm still working it out).  The photos made Hampton head out for salted caramel ice cream, but Hampton, at least you rode your bike!  Thanks as always for all the nice comments.

French Confections of the Lustful Kind

Photo:  Strawberry cake at Fauchon.  Do not try this at home.

Foodie alert:  If you want to go to the chicest, most over the top gourmet food stores on the planet, then a trip to Paris is in order, toute de suite.  And they’ve made it easy for you:  the two most famous ones are on dueling corners on the same square, Place Madeleine. 

La Place Madeleine is a posh spot, with fancy shops and restaurants surrounding that imposing temple that pays homage to Napoleon's army.  But I go straight for the gourmet shops, Fauchon and Hediard. I like Hediard's store better, but Fauchon also has a casual lunch spot with trendy treats and a bakery/patisserie that will knock your beret off.

Talk about food porn!  You can kill a couple of hours, just drooling over the obscenely beautiful offerings.  Most are priced accordingly, but hey, this is Paris after all.  Still I always seem to find a few little gifts for friends.  Or for moi.  

The other famous foodie destination is of course La Grand Epicerie, but that is in a league all its own, and a post for another day.

Meanwhile, here’s a preview, photos I snapped at Fauchon and Hediard, to incite your lust.

The fruit display at Hediard

Edgy chocolate, From Fauchon.  I call this the Mistral Cake.

Of course there are tastings all over the stores.  Here, house made jams at the ready.

A little boisson to go with your goodies.

Jars of exotic spices (and where do they get those great jars?).  On the right: Yuzu, a Japanese spice made of wild mandarin and lemon.

Coffee beans from all over the world, roasted and ground on site, in the formidable looking machine below, at Hediard.

Top off your visit with a cone of artisanal ice cream at Fauchon.

In the COMMENTS:  RE our pigs, Caterina is living the life in the country, and raising pigs herself--still, if I visit you, Caterina, I'll take some of that trout!  Veronique  of French Girl in Seattle is French but like me, she'll pass on the pig party.  Artist Colleen (see her beautiful paintings here) has family from Germany who did their own butchering, as did Herm of Poems, Photos and Stuff.   Meanwhile Mark is making deer burgers!  Christine of Pen at the Ready, I promise to get back to French recipes soon!

 If you're lucky enough to be in Paris soon:  Our reader Priscilla of the great blog Weekend in Paris is sponsoring a  Paris Tweetup, and you're invited!  The event is designed especially for tweeters and bloggers. 

 Favorite Reads:  It seems like a good week to mention David Lebovitz, who blogs about Paris and has written many fun cookbooks, including the The Great Book of Chocolate.

Partying Down with the Pigs

Have you ever been in a gourmet group? I was in one once, we celebrated National Chocolate Day once a month.  We skipped dinner and had three courses of homemade chocolate desserts (we were younger then).  Here in the French countryside, gourmet groups are just a little bit different.  Illustration by José Reis de Matos.

In our village, there are eight folks who get together every year, as my friend Françoise tells me.  First they stop by a local farm, and they pick out 3 (live) fat pigs.  The pigs arrive a bit later, butchered, on the doorstep of Françoise’s house, and are laid out on a big work table in her garage.  The other three couples arrive, and for two full days, they gussy up those hogs.  Roasts are trimmed and wrapped, ready to freeze. The large hocks are cured in salt water then hung up to dry, to make jambon cru, or raw ham.  Then they make seasoned sausages and boudain noir and boudin blanc (these are fat sausages made from 'parts', the noir with blood and the blanc without.  A taste I think you must acquire in childhood, as just the smell of them will clear out a room full of expats).  They also make fromage de tête, or head cheese, a terrine set in aspic and made from the pig’s head. 

What a party!  There are festive lunches mid-day, of course, and at the end everyone has a goodly supply of porc fermier (farm-raised pork ) in their freezer.

Another couple here has a large group of old friends who rendez-vous in Paris every year to do the same thing, but with ducks.  This year they prepared 27 ducks among them.  They return home with confit de carnard, foie gras, and so on.

Françoise, telling me her story, laughed as I shuddered at the mention of boudin noir.  “We’re true country people here you know,” she said.  And I do admire the fact that the French use every last morsel of the animals who gave their lives for the party.  Still, this sometimes/almost vegetarian is happy not to been given an invite to join the gourmet groups---I think I’ll stick to chocolate.

 

 RECIPE:  Spicy Shrimp Burgers

I didn't have the heart to do a pork recipe after all that, so let's give the pigs a rest and switch from land to sea.  Le Hamburger is all the rage in France right now, especially in Paris, where the big-deal chefs are offering them.  And in the states,where folks are less carnivorous, everyone seems to be experimenting beyond the cow.   Shrimp burgers are popular in the south, and I've tried many recipes before coming up with this one.  Also you can pretend it's summer, and they don't require a grill. For me, the secret to this recipe is using raw, crunchy veggies; if you cook the veggies first, you end up with something similar to a crab cake instead of a burger.  

I tend to keep  a supply of coarse homemade bread crumbs in my freezer, but you could use panko instead.  Make the burgers well ahead so you can chill them. Serves 4. 

 For  the sauce:

• 3 tablespoons mayonnaise 
• 1 tablespoon Dijon mustard
• ½ teaspoon horseradish
• 1 tablespoon of any chopped fresh herbs, such as parsley, basil, chives, tarragon
• dash tabasco 

for  the burgers:

• 1 lb. (454 grams) boiled shrimp, peeled and finely chopped
• 2 tablespoons green tops of scallions, finely chopped
• 2 tablespoons white bulb of scallion, finely chopped
• 2  tablespoons celery, finely chopped
• 2  tablespoons finely chopped radishes
• 2  tablespoons finely chopped bell pepper
• 2  tablespoons chopped parsley and/or fresh basil
• 1 egg, beaten
• ¾ cup homemade bread crumbs
• ½ teaspoon sea salt
• 1/2 teaspoon fresh ground pepper
• 1/4 t. cayenne pepper, or to taste
• 2 tablespoons mayonnaise
• Flour
• 2 tablespoons canola oil

4 hamburger buns 

Toppings as desired:  lettuce, tomato, avocado, red onion slices

Stir together sauce ingredients and chill.  Combine burger ingredients (down to flour) then shape mixture into 4 patties. Cover and chill a couple of hours or more.   When ready to serve, gently roll them in flour and cook them in a cast iron skillet with hot oil for about 4 minutes on each side.  Drain briefly on paper towels. Serve on hamburger buns with sauce and desired toppings.

In the Comments:  Lots of praise for my step-daughter Kelly's new book, Sailing to Jessica.  Please check it out if you haven't!

And to all, my warmest wishest for a happy, healthy new year---bonne année!